Hail, Deer Tick!

ON THE ROCKS Christopher Dale Ryan, McCauley, Tobiassen, and Dennis Michael Ryan. 

DARKNESS AND LIGHT
Saluting Born on Flag Day
By Chris Conti

Just five years out of high school, Deer Tick bandleader John McCauley III is far too young to be dishing out such scorned and lovelorn, whiskey-sopped couplets like he does, yet with Born On Flag Day (Partisan Records), McCauley has mastered the art of endearing the broken man to his listeners, less than two years after his homemade (and recently re-released) one-man debut War Elephant displayed his undeniable charisma and talents. Yet a Pitchfork.com review of War Elephant referred to McCauley as "a lithe songwriter with a black lung and a bad liver" and dismissed the debut as "languid alt-country arrangements." It was raw and ragged, but it's hard to knock cuts such as "Baltimore Blues No.1," "Christ Jesus," and "Art Isn't Real (City of Sin)." McCauley takes full advantage of his seemingly shredded voicebox; the raspy, nasal gurgle of Tom Waits and the stoned southern drawl of Tom Petty work as a complementary combination while gracefully stumbling toward the darkness on the stripped-down harmonica gem "Smith Hill" into "Song About a Man," two of the more stirring moments on Flag Day. "Little White Lies" is a front-porch, bluesy lullaby, and the delicate strumming on "Houston, TX" coasts along like the feel-good heartbreaker "Diamond Rings 2007" on War Elephant. Flag Day benefits from a full ensemble, with the quartet ably veering from the '60s surf-rock twang (and stinging fretboard work) of "Straight Into a Storm" to the closing, sad-sack ballad "Stung." But it's the clanging and jangly —and irrefutably addictive — album opener "Easy" that easily steals the show. The opening minute of feedback and noodling give way to a foot-stomping gallop of a riff coolly blown open during the chorus. McCauley is even more entertaining and engaging while losing it during the final 30 seconds. "You were never there," he seethes over and over like a shitfaced, jilted lover, while drummer Dennis Ryan keeps pace with his endearing lunacy.