one from the vault: deer tick
Tattoo artists may just pocket the money without a comment, but there must be some occasions when their kinder, wiser natures surface, and they ask the client: are you sure? You do know this is permanent? Like, for example, when John MacCauley, aka Deer Tick, decided to get a tattoo of the California Raisins on his upper arm. What do we make of this? Is it a youthful mistake? Or a sign of a healthy sense of humor? All I can say is he makes better decisions in the studio. His new one, Born on Flag Day, will be out on June 23rd, and it would make great sense to talk about it here, now (it’s good) but…you know how sitcoms, during a writer’s strike, or when they’re just lazy, or when one of their stars has recently been arrested for possession, will cobble together a ‘flashback’ episode? Well, things have been crazy here at the Blue Trenchcoat lately, so we’re digging out something from long, long ago that I never ran, and it is…
A Review of Deer Tick’s War Elephant, in 10 Parts
1. I’d heard the name Deer Tick from a student of mine, and also just generally burbling around in the persistent music promotion babble-sphere. Deer Tick. I realize now that I made an unconscious connection to the band Deerhoof, and so assumed Deer Tick would be difficult and celebrated and not much fun. This was wrong. Inevitably I make all kinds of assumptions about an artist before actually hearing the product, the primary one always being that he/she/they won’t live up to the hype. This is usually a good bet, because the chatter is constant and constantly stoked by the promoters. Most CDs arrive in the mail accompanied by a one-sheet that says three things: 1) This band sounds like someone you absolutely love combined with someone else you absolutely love, all filtered through the imagination of someone else you absolutely love, 2) This band actually sounds like no one other than themselves, because they’re out to change the music world, and 3) Everyone already loves them anyway, so you’d better jump on board, or you’re going to be behind the times, idiot.
2. So there is skepticism. This is dispelled by the first twenty-eight seconds (give or take) of the first track, “Ashamed,” which reminds me again how confidence manifests in patience, and (later) what an invaluable talent it is to know when a song is over. And man, is he going to get sick of “The Next Dylan” type comments. (In fact, he has said that he hadn’t heard much Dylan before recording War Elephant. His friends have since bought him some Dylan. He likes it.)
3. The hype problem isn’t just due to hype professionals, though – after all, if you read six or seven hundred of those promotional one-sheets, it does dawn on you that they’re not informative. The other problem is of course us, people like me, who either under- or overrate everything, because the dispiriting, dull truth is that most CDs fall into the all-engulfing Not Bad but Not Great category. So we try to spice it up, and in doing so sometimes we seize on a pretty good band and call them the next Bob Dylan.
4. So expectations remain low. Too often these days I hear so much about the artist before actually hearing the artist, and the listening experience is disappointing. This is partly due to allmusic.com, a website that I rely on, that I love, but one that also tends to treat anyone who has ever recorded a note as a misunderstood genius. I read these essays about Pere Ubu and Art in Manila and gear myself up for music that will change my life. And for the most part it doesn’t – it sounds like Pere Ubu. But this, this Deer Tick guy, he seems good.
5. Here we are, only on track 2 “Art Isn’t Real (City of Sin)”, and this still seems good. Of course, many artists frontload their CDs, and if these are the best two tracks on the album, I like them, but this is not lightning striking my stereo and granting me super powers.
6. It occurs to me that, because of my title here, some readers may want an actual description of the album. Singer-songwriter-ish, raspy, honky-tonky, a little raucous, accessible, etc. Another one of the problems out here in music appreciation land is that so many of us love to do this that we burn up all the descriptives. And then we try to Original Metaphor each other into submission, so Deer Tick’s new album becomes the letter Q on fire, or France’s medical system as imagined by a fresh plate of zucchini. I like this stuff and it’s still worthwhile to attempt an effective description, but sometimes you have to throw your hands up. If it were possible to say what it sounded like, why would he record it?
7. I can’t avoid mentioning that Pitchfork provided a typically snarky review, which brings us back to the fact that no matter how well-spoken a critic is, sometimes he’s useless, because his experience is not yours. When I read that review, I’m convinced – he sure sounds like he knows what he’s talking about, and I feel naïve for liking Deer Tick. But the thing is: I like Deer Tick.
8. Here we are on track 4: Ok, this is great. This is where I expected the tail-off in quality, and instead, this is where the album really starts. He just placed himself into an entirely different mental category, that is, moving from He’s Got Promise to Who Cares What I Think? Judge Not, Let the Man Work, Etc.
9. There is no part 9.
10. The moon is full, the air is warm, WHAT IS THIS GUY’S TOUR SCHEDULE? I feel like eating the earth – granted, partly this is because I got a good parking spot at Ralph’s, partly this is because I had a full day of work & I’m done, but partly this is because our man Deer Tick has reminded me that I like music. Music fun.
Now, after all that, here’s a track that isn’t on the album - it’s from the Splice Today compilation, Old Lonesome Sound, which, I mean, wow, and stuff.