Salty The Pocketknife

Album Title: Self-Titled
Release Date:
Genre: Hard Rock
It could just be a coincidence that the day I listened to Salty The Pocketknife was the same day I got the worst migraine ever in my life – but I doubt it. The noise of the album is something like a mix of Tool, Primus, and a schizophrenic Julie Andrews not taking her medication. It could equally be compared to a blend of Rage Against the Machine, Primus and Colm Wilkinson finally looking at his ugly Phantom face.

Really, describing a song off the album would lead you to believe I can tell where one starts and the other ends. Not even the 2 second gap in between tracks can help me there; noodling guitars and extreme vocal gymnastics start and stop abruptly, paying absolutely no attention to rhythm and/or melody. It seems Salty The Pocketknife sacrificed absolutely every element of good songwriting for an "original" sound, and failed miserably. Instead, the album plays more like a pastiche of signature sounds from other bands, held together by…nothing.

And let's face it, Salty The Pocketknife is likely only getting press because the bands bassist just happens to be Dustin Diamond a.k.a. "Screech" from everyone's favourite 80's after-school-special, Saved By The Bell. Well, now I understand why getting an interview with the lad has been so hard: I wouldn't want my name associated with this album either.

Writer: Erica Basnicki

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