Originally a 2010 self-release, the self-titled debut from Boston bass/drum duo Olde Growth is given a second look thanks to MeteorCity. The 46-minute offering plays to a wide host of riffy influences, and the duo do well in carving out an identity for themselves among the melee of energetic songs. Of the seven tracks on Olde Growth, only the feedback interlude “Red Dwarf” is under five minutes long, but the cuts nonetheless move quickly one to the next, and no matter what tempo they’re working in – thrashingly fast, drearily slow or somewhere in between – Olde Growth pull off an immediacy in the music that might be their greatest asset. Parts abound in the songs, and there are both chorus-based and more linearly-structured passages (the third track is a three-parter), but as complex as bassist/vocalist Stephen Loverme and drummer Ryan Berry get, they don’t lose sight of either the thickness of tone or the subtle melodicism that finds its way into sections of Olde Growth, and that works much to the album’s benefit.

Being a duo with bass and drums and playing this genre, one would be remiss to not cite Om as an influence – conceptually if not musically. If that reference shows up anywhere, it’s in the late-album instrumental, “Everything Dies,” or the contemplative, subdued beginning of 10-minute closer “Awake.” The bulk of Olde Growth owes more to the likes of Sleep and High on Fire (if you want to stay in the same family tree of bands), with some more bombastic tertiary-feeling desert influence and a dose of Acid King’s expansive doom in the clean-sung sections of “Sequoia.” Loverme, in addition to writing inventive riffs on which the songs are based, has a good sense for varying his vocal approach. Screams, shouts and melody are all well placed over the music, starting immediately with a rhythmic/melodic interplay on opener “The Grand Illusion” that provides Olde Growth’s most memorable chorus. Lyrically centered around the occasional bit of epic stoner nature worship (see “Sequoia”), with “Cry of the Nazgul/The Second Darkness/To the Black Gate” being – appropriately enough – a trilogy based on J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings, Olde Growth prove consistent mostly in terms of the quality of their material and the heaviness of atmosphere they affect. Everything else on these tracks feels like it could change at a moment’s notice.

In such cases, it’s often easy for a band to come across as overly angular, but Loverme and Berry avoid this with the injection of stoner groove like that which shows up in the break of “The Grand Illusion” or for the bulk of the sludge-laden “Life in the Present.” They’re not technically focused by any stretch, but the duo does work well together and that’s essential to the album’s success. Early into “Cry of the Nazgul,” Berry’s drums seem to cut through the mix more than is warranted, which, honestly, I don’t know how you avoid when Loverme is on the low end of the low-end and there’s nothing else to fill out the sound, but the abrasion doesn’t necessarily feel like it’s anything more than Olde Growth wanted it to be, and “The Second Darkness” is faster and more melodically aware, setting up one of the full-length’s arguable apexes in “To the Black Gate,” where Loverme layers his vocals over a frantic riff/crash combination. If not for what was still to come on “Sequoia” and “Awake,” it would probably be the most satisfying moment on the album.

One gets the sense in listening there’s still growth to come melodically. “Sequoia”’s aforementioned Acid King vibe, when it comes to the fore, feels rudimentary, and for Olde Growth’s first album, I wouldn’t necessarily expect otherwise. Listening to that track and digesting it over the course of “Red Dwarf” and the instrumental “Everything Dies” (no perceptible relation to the Type O Negative song of the same name), I’m more inclined to laud Loverme and Berry for their boldness than I am to lament their yet-undeveloped melodic sensibilities. Both “Sequoia” and “Awake” showcase remarkable atmospheric potential for Olde Growth, and after the fury of some of the early material – which gets echoed in the closer’s midsection – it’s encouraging to have the shift in approach. In any case, as I said before, Olde Growth is consistent atmospherically, and that applies to “Awake” as well. As the song dooms to its lumbering finish (is that a guitar I hear, or is Loverme just doing wacky stuff with pedals?), the sound isn’t quite crushing in a metallic sense, but leaves nothing to be desired in thickness nonetheless.

There’s been a decent amount of buzz surrounding Olde Growth’s Olde Growth, at least amongst those who have a clue what the fuck stoner metal is, and it’s well earned. Loverme and Berry showcase noteworthy potential here, and most important of all, they rock. I’d be interested to hear them work within the framework of the genre and play up more of the melodic side of the songwriting while also keeping the brashness in the music, but of course that’s easier said than done, and for what they’re doing in the present, they do an excellent job with it. For a genre that’s been declared dead more times than I can or want to count, Olde Growth prove there’s still life in the church of the riff, and Olde Growth will no doubt stand as one of this year’s strongest debuts. It’s a must for followers of the heavy.

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Tags: Boston, Massachusetts, MeteorCity, Olde Growth

This entry was posted on Tuesday, April 26th, 2011 at 11:16 am and is filed under Reviews. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.