Listening to Deer Tick really lets me flesh out my whiskey-soaked alter ego, Treehouse. Treehouse lives in a shithole van with his brother Throat-Chain somewhere on Cape Cod drowning in sorrow, love-lost depression, and High Life.
John McCauley, the band's front , makes a perfect soundtrack for the life of Treehouse. McCauley croons country blues with a Winston-scratched rasp over steel guitar tinged folk rock melodies. The band sounds like they're from some dirty South Carolina backwater, but they're from Providence- go figure. It's good, sad, America music.