Sampling: Old Growth

OLD GROWTH
UNDER THE SUN
Bakery Outlet Records, 2008

By Nick McGregor

Bakery Outlet Records calls St. Augustine home, but luckily for Oldest City music fans, the label (dubbed “Bako” to in-the-know locals) hasn’t limited the geographic scope of its signees. Point in case is Portland, Ore.’s Old Growth, whose 2008 sophomore album Under The Sun was released by Bako earlier this year.

Combining the most authentic type of driving rock ‘n’ roll with elements of grunge, alt-country, and post-punk, Old Growth creates a straightforward masterpiece – hard-hitting in the right places, melancholic and reflective in others, and anchored throughout by the relentless riffage of lead guitarist and singer John Magnifico. The band also offers up a heaping pile of youthful lyrical angst, channeling influences that stretch from early Neil Young to alt-country pioneers Uncle Tupelo to underground rock heroes The Replacements.

Opener “Machine Life” kicks off with a steady drumbeat and bluesy harmonicas, placing Under The Sun squarely in Americana-with-grit territory. “Machine Life” finds Magnifico howling in an echoed, grunge-worthy voice about the downfalls of working life, opening up a lyrical vein that also touches on failed relationships and pained ties to home. “Wasted The Day” features heaps of ‘90s alternative inspiration, while “Bury My Body” rides a slow, melodic crunch into a hollering sunset.

“Twenties” may be the strongest track on Under The Sun; shards of guitar mix with sludgey bass lines to explore the best moments of grunge rock, without all the original fuzz and distortion histrionics. Contrasting splendidly with the creeping “Twenties,” the propulsive, sing-alongy “Southern Charm” makes itself as coarsely endearing as Social Distortion’s famous covers of Johnny Cash. And who can resist vocals about difficult yet irresistible Southern girls?

“Southern Charm” also stands out because of Magnifico’s impassioned guitar playing, which, after Under The Sun’s 40 minutes, resembles the perfect distillation of every true guitar-driven rock ‘n’ roll record made since the late 1960s. Closer “Roam” comes as close as possible to an ideal alt-punk-country blend, with snappy drums and plenty of instrumental calisthenics giving way to poppy snarls about the complacency of domestic life.

But the most telling lyric from Old Growth comes on “Twenties” when Magnifico laments, “At times I feel I’ve seen so much/But then again I feel so young.” Nothing serves as a more fitting thesis for Old Growth’s brand of lived-in, rootsy punk ‘n’ roll. Kudos to Bakery Outlet for allowing us to share in the band’s splendor.