Occasionally, when I am soaking up the contents of a new album and trying to articulate in writing an emotional response to what I hear, one word or thought may come to mind that perfectly illustrates both the music being played and how I feel about it. With Deer Tick‘s Coin-O-Matic, an eleven-song, forty-five-minute experience of top-drawer Americana writing and performance, the word I keep returning to is ‘pure.’ There is a purity to what is on offer here; it is unfiltered, there is no artifice or pretence, there is honesty and a clarity of intent, and the pathway to executing their vision does not feel like it was blocked in any way. Deer Tick know what they are doing, they are at ease with the music they make, comfortable in their own skin, and they know how to put a song across in an emotive yet tub thumping rock ‘n’ roll formation. Furthermore, they are not bound by the primitive template allowed within the standard rock song; their love of the middle eight is almost retro in how much thought they apply, and Deer Tick think nothing of a curveball chord change or a closing musical passage in a previously unplayed key, either. In doing so, they have fun with the songwriter’s craft, playing around with it in the same way the twentieth-century masters might have done.
Talking of masters, the closest likeness I can apply to this record is a big one, but a great one, for the suggestion that they are drinking from the Springsteen well is hard to ignore. Have a listen to ACI and try to argue it is not some distant cousin of Cadillac Ranch. But this isn’t a criticism becuase they are wearing this influence honestly and doing something brilliant with it. There are regular opportunities to make comparisons with The Boss when reviewing contemporary music, but most of the time, all it means is that the act is American, a little anthemic, and they rock. But Deer Tick have the full gamut of Brucey bonuses in their arsenal; the writing has the lightness of touch that, if covered by the right kind of artists, could easily push this material into the pop field. This is not meant to cheapen it either; it simply means the compositions have deeply embedded melodic and key-change-based brush strokes to the extent that, when you remove them from their bar-room rock band dressing, they stand up as detailed, well-written songs in their own right. Sweetest Things is a particularly good example of what I am talking about here, the band’s sonic wardrobe pulling out a soulful dressing as the lead vocal hits a sultry higher register that is quite the style change from the meaty growl heard on other tracks. But this is the presentation Sweetest Things needs, and the band walk unafraid in pursuit of it and in so doing, offer a sneaky glimpse to the multiple dimensions in their work.
Now two decades into their career, Deer Tick are showing a sense of place and purpose, drawing on the oddball mythology of their native Rhode Island as much as the musical instincts they have honed together since their bar-band beginnings. The album’s title nods to a long-defunct vending-machine outfit once tied to Raymond Patriarca’s crime empire, a reminder of the half-mythic, half-mundane characters that coloured everyday life in Providence and still haunt singer/guitarist John McCauley’s imagination. That local seediness becomes a kind of emotional backdrop on a record tracked at the band’s home studio, self-produced for the first time, and sparked by the looseness that comes from shutting the door on outside expectations. Dennis Ryan engineered the sessions for immediacy, while Steve Berlin of Los Lobos and former member Rob Crowell slip into the arrangements like old friends dropping by. It makes for a set of songs stuffed with reckoning and the stubborn pride of a small state that rarely gets sung about. McCauley and Ian O’Neil both hint at wanting to give Rhode Island its due, trusting that the regrets, missteps, and minor outlaws of their home turf carry a universality listeners will recognise in themselves. Ultimately, it was the closing five-song sweep that confirmed the album’s quality to me; there is nothing ‘front-loaded’ about this ‘Coin-O-Matic.’ From the juicy riffage of Eyelid, through the wild mercury folk-rock of I Am An Island, the 1920’s ballad toppings in 507 Smith, college rock reverie in Exit Door and finally the friendly, irrefutable power chords on Candy Cigarettes, Deer Tick assert their strengths. They have effectively stuffed a devastatingly potent ball into rock’s cannon; now they are taking aim, and with the release of this album, a long-storied band should assuredly hit all their targets.
Coin-O-Matic (June 5th, 2026) ATO Records
Pre-Order: https://ffm.to/coin-o-matic