Send "Deer Tick " Ringtones to your Cell 
| Pitchfork |
 From the sound of "Choir of Angels", the opening cut from roots rockers Deer Tick's The Black Dirt Sessions, you might think that frontman John McCauley has found some much-needed salvation. Still very much an old soul, his weathered vocals and done-me-wrong worldview has put him in league with characters who have been around much longer than McCauley's 24 years. "The lonely road is behind me," McCauley sings over a melodramatic organ on the doo-wop tinted track, and there's conviction in his words. It sounds like a pretty nice place to be.But Deer Tick are still a long way from the Promised Land. Over the course of three albums, it's become clear that McCauley likes his band just the way it is and is not interested in growth or deviation. And since Deer Tick have never really stood out, another round of slightly-better-than-average, plainspoken alt-country tunes isn't an invitation to invested listening. It's become increasingly difficult to get behind this band that keeps fighting the same fight-- win, lose or draw. Deer Tick have gained a reputation for their raucous live presentations, but on record is another story. The addition of ex-Titus Andronicus guitarist Ian O'Neil seems lost here, with McCauley spending a good chunk of time behind the piano, leaving the rest of his band to contribute the odd embellishment. Working within such an uncluttered space, most of the weight has to be carried by McCauley alone. Occasionally, he hits the mark-- "Goodbye, Dear Friend" might be heavy handed, but it's a kind and uncomplicated elegy that finds McCauley carrying a drunk comrade to bed "like a pallbearer," and too soon the chore transforms into sad reality. And "Piece by Piece and Frame by Frame", a rejection tale with all the trappings of a murder ballad, finds him waxing pathetic again, but this time in the guise of a delusional, almost frightening love-fool. The approach suggests that a Nick Cave anthology would open up a world of possibility for him....full text |
| Slantmagazine |
| There are a lot of ways to get away with facsimile. As bands multiply and ripoff-able influences become scarcer, the ability to twist and reshape tropes has become almost essential for bands working in familiar genres—short of coming up with something truly revolutionary, of course. Duplication can certainly come off fine when it's handled deftly, with some cleverness and a little sense of humor, but Deer Tick's The Black Dirt Sessions ignores both of these points, offering a muddy dose of soul-baring alt-country that feels unaware of how tired it all sounds. The mix of fatigued piano thumping and overstated gravity leave it irreparably marred. Deer Tick has never quite crossed over from playacting into making a sound totally their own. War Elephant and Born on Flag Day were hardly original, with one foot in old-time country and the other in classic rock, but they were fun and raucous enough to shrug off those negatives. The band further flexed its alt-country muscles on last November's More Fuel for the Fire EP, which made the most of its short running time and probably stands as the band's most accomplished effort. To follow that by tackling the gentler edges of the genre seems like a natural progression, but the switch in dominant inspiration to more modern acts like Whiskeytown and Son Volt proves shakier ground. The result is energetic but mostly dowdy and unimpressive. That said, there's nothing outright disastrous here. Despite lead singer John McCauley's nasal voice, the music hits its marks and the lyrics stay generally solid. The problem is mostly that the staleness here only points out how fully the band has adhered to old formulas. Serving as last year's pilot artist for NBC anchor Brian Williams's "Bri-tunes" series probably hasn't helped, granting the band a whole new audience while adding the danger of plunging them into comfy dad-rock oblivion. Despite their young age (McCauley is 24), there's still a definite strain toward classicism, but the drippy sincerity makes the commonness of these influences harder to ignore. Elements like the honky-tonk piano on "Mange" and the uplifting guitar solo that follows go a long way toward lightening the mood, but they are few and far between. The Black Dirt Sessions delivers emotion baldly and with high-flown force. A focus on piano further leads to an indulgently bare atmosphere. The straining for weight is never more apparent than the plunking minor chord strikes on "Piece by Piece and Frame by Frame," which sound like someone repeatedly sitting on the left side of the keyboard. The use of female vocals as an emotional amplifier on tracks like "The Sad Sun" is equally insipid. The worst offender may be "Christ Jesus," which gets religious and deadly serious, leaving McCauley to shred his vocal cords to ribbons in a last stab at solemnity. As a closer, it's a fitting summation of an album that feels far too blandly somber, ignoring the feel-good clamor that can make Southern-rock revisionism so much fun....full text |
| Consequenceofsound |
| Deer Tick is at the realization point of their coming of age story. Every band has one, and on their third record, they get their first kiss with Wendy moment. It’s been a rough road, but they’ve finally arrived. The Black Dirt Sessions is the acknowledgment of where they’ve been and finding out what being ‘grown up’ is all about. When John McCauley reflects, “The lonely road is behind me” on the opening track, you know this record’s something to pay attention too. With more Cash than Skynyrd in the writing, the album makes for a strong but very dark record at times, with “Blood Moon” and the heart-wrenching confessional “Christ Jesus” releasing the biggest demons. It’s an emotionally powerful record that gives the best writing from the band to date, presenting their bare honesty in a way that’s less whiskey and more rehab. The choked up “Goodbye, Dear Friend” is the most sobering, with down pianos telling an intense and depressing story of loss. A reworking of the gut-wrenching “Christ Jesus” still tears McCauley apart at the end as he screams for his life, but by trading thick base lines for pianos, it adds a little light to the blackness while still cutting deep....full text |
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