Campers and backpackers are well familiar with ticks, and no tick is more bothersome than the deer tick. Not only do deer ticks climb all over you and suck your blood, they can give you Lyme Disease, which, if left untreated, effectively ruins your life. That said, despite the unsavory association, Rhode Island's Deer Tick is anything but unpleasant. And their new album Divine Providence is a triumph.
Previous releases, such as 2009's Born on Flag Day and 2007's War Elephant, were decidedly more countrified in their approach. But somewhere between The Black Dirt Sessions and Divine Providence that changed: on this release it's rawk, rawk, rawk. The guitars are dirty, the drums hit hard and the vocals are off-key. The sound is ramshackle and immediate. It is the kind of music you would expect blaring from the jukebox in a bar on Friday night.
It would be an understatement to say that there is a current of alcohol throughout Divine Providence: some songs reek of it. From the marshalling squalls of ""The Bump,"" where lead singer John J. McCauley III warns, ""I can take a tree / And tear it from its roots,"" to the noisy rendition of ""The Star Spangled Banner"" at the beginning of ""Something to Brag About,"" as well as the numerous interludes of studio chatter and all around goofiness, there is a sense of intoxicated bravado and abandon to most of Divine Providence: the whole band sounds bleary eyed and blotto.
At times, Deer Tick resembles The Replacements: ""Let's All Go To The Bar"" would have fit nicely on The Mats' Hootenanny, with its brash call and response as McCauley and co. barrel towards the nearest bar like it's their last night alive. And at times, McCauley straight up rips off Paul Westerberg: on ""Main Street"" Deer Tick plods through a loud song of regret, peppered with clever, think twice word play (""Some girls hair never let me down"").
While the loud guitar songs, dominate, there are a few slow numbers: ""Chevy Express,"" where McCauley ruminates about big questions in his car, ""Electric,"" with its plaintive organ line and string section, and ""Now It's Your Turn,"" which plays the power ballad dynamic straight, with its buildup to a blistering guitar solo.
The closest thing to a dud on this album is ""Clowning Around,"" which invokes innumerable country tropes (dark American secrets, the Devil, your father's ghost, etc.) and features a bizarre circus-y ending. But otherwise, Divine Providence is a near-brilliant album that repays relistening. A-
