Old-school Portland rockers have often complained to me that the current PDX music scene is too polished, too acoustic and too twee. They miss rock and roll. I get that. Portland could fill an entire ark of folk-pop sub-genres, and even with the thriving local metal scene, good ol' fashion riffage can be tough to find.
"Bloody Knuckle Beach" is an exercise in juxtaposition: The instrumentation here drags everything so far down into the mud that the listener expects the vocals to growl and roar, but John Magnifico's lead vocals hold some distant promise—and they really start to soar when his bandmates chip in for harmonies. I don't know where Bloody Knuckle Beach is—a particularly violent surfing spot, I'd imagine—but all Magnifico wants is to get back there. The desire to return, both physically and emotionally, to somewhere in the past that holds more promise than the crushing responsibility of the present is a common theme in Old Growth's songs (both Magnifico and bassist Luke Clemente sing about it on the new disc), but here it's especially aching. By the songs final sludgy chorus, Magnifico sounds like a tired kid throwing a tantrum as his parents drag him off to bed: "I can feel the saltwaterrrrrrr."
WWeek 2015