I’ve been in therapy for more than a decade, and the past several years have been the most intense, dealing with loss of family members and trying to understand my anxiety and why it changed so much. Just talking and releasing the emotions and feelings goes a long way toward alleviating pressure, feeling more balanced. But it’s not always there.
“The Bite That Grows Up,” the new record from Pacific Northwest sludge/doom force Great Falls, largely is an imagined group therapy session in the mind of vocalist/guitarist Demian Johnston. It’s a hard listen from that standpoint because, psychologically, there is a lot of torment here, along with anger, guilt, fear, and frustrations. Johnston, whose lyrics could read like letters to himself, his daughter, his mind, isn’t always in a steady place. Joined by bassist Shane Mehling and drummer/vocalist Nickolis Parks, the band puts you through the ringer, battering you and leaving an indelible mark that refuses to go away. This is as an experience as much as a record, and it’s a volatile force that demands every drop of blood.
“A Small Weakness” hulks, guitars smearing, yells buckling and shocking your nervous system, as Johnston’s voice has a tendency to do. Damage ripples in spades, and even when the playing feels spacey, you know the wrench is about to turn. “I’m sorry, I think I’m done, I’m not sure about this,” Johnston howls, as sounds squeeze and squeal, everything pounding like a migraine. “Pinned Against Time” is a quick two-minute bruiser, noise and hellacious sounds making for a cataclysmic storm that’s here and gone, branches and bone in its wake. The playing smothers in every sense, barreling to a stabbing end. “Worse Than Sleep” brings staggering guitars, a rumbling fury, and desperate cries, Johnston wailing, “Where do I start? I don’t have the words.” It only disintegrates from there mentally, impossibly heavy playing leveling buildings, mashing as noise scuffs, Johnston wondering, “Are we to blame? Is it nice where you are?” “Hailstone Numbers” begins calmly, quietly, unsettlingly, yells pulling as the bass plods, floating as desperate cries startle. Drums battle as the guitars spit fire, repeated strikes bruise skulls, sounds converge and overwhelm, and thick mud floods and chokes.
“Nicotine in the Spine” enters with piano before the band is attacking and stomping, the torment thickening before the air gets colder, the pace waylaying anyway. The bass trucks as everything feels like a bulldozer lumbering downhill, the power combusting and making balance impossible, ending in strange keys. “Debt Ethics” is murky with guitars jangling, noise screeching, and then everything coming apart, blistering as the pace shifts. Riffs snake as Johnston’s mood noticeably changes as he call out, “Why can’t you talk? How do I? What do you want? How can I help? Please let me.” “Buildings Full of Rope” is another wrecker, lasting just 2:34 but making certain impact, bringing total demolition and flattening every goddamn thing in front of it. The playing torches, digging claws into your arms, crushing with tornadic force that feels excessive but oddly fitting. Closer “What No One Can Give” jars and stings, Johnston’s yells blistering. Constant worries about his daughter’s safety eats at his psyche, “Father, please calm down, take your pills,” quaking from Johnston’s throat. The movement chugs as the bass thickens, momentum rises, and guitars cut, the pressure building before finally relenting.
“The Bite That Grows Up” is a record that makes immediate impact, as Great Falls playing and violent tenacity are impossible to ignore. The raw emotion, guilt, anxiety, and anger flow thick, and if you’re not mentally prepared to hear a 40-minute coming to terms that is nakedly sobering, then maybe you should proceed cautiously. This is an album that will play long into future rotation, and its mark is indelible, a scar for life.
For more on the band, go here: https://greatfalls.bandcamp.com/
To buy the album, go here: https://www.neurotrecordings.com/store
For more on the label, go here: https://www.neurotrecordings.com/
