Sometimes, ends come unannounced. In the mid-2010s, Britain nurtured a second generation of the unfortunately named genre, “soft grunge” (ironically, an outgrowth of emo and hardcore). At its forefront were Milk Teeth, Wallflower, Muskets, and, the era’s breakout stars, Bloody Knees. They released only four EPs, but bumped shoulders with national stars like Wolf Alice and Soft Play. By 2019, they had disappeared, and so had their contemporaries.
In 2026, soft grunge’s descendants are as prominent as ever, from Midrift to recent One Step Closer to the doom-shaded Die Spitz. What Else comes perfectly timed. Recorded in 2020, the question lingers: is it a time capsule of a brief moment, or did Bloody Knees forge their own timeless path?
Bloody Knees’ love of Oasis set them on a more polished path than their slacker-rock-turned-soft-grunge compatriots Broadbay, the New Tusk and Birdskulls. The sound present in Bloody Knees’ latter-day work was among the most detached from its hardcore roots, veering the genre deep into indie rock. The band always had an undeniable knack for pop songwriting, and that is evident on What Else more than in any previous effort.
At every moment, there is a hook. Just take the opener, “What Else”: the earworm drums of its Madchester-esque intro; the fall and rise of the verse’s bass; the guitar counter-melody of its chorus; the infectious second-verse vocal melodies. Along with “IDRCAT”, “Settle Down” and “Right Now”, it is part of a tetralogy of tracks that continues the template set by the group’s previous effort, You Can Have It (2018). Closer, “Right Now”, is the highlight of the album, with its upbeat, effects-driven, punk-infused baggy.
The third track, “My Paradise”, has a surface-level reminiscence of its forebears, with its tried-and-true soft verse giving way to a loud, fuzzy chorus. Although here Bloody Knees have reworked it. Instead of the expected clean electric guitar tone, its verses are acoustic, foreshadowing something new. That culminates in “Be More”, when Bloody Knees shed their past face, in their least grunge-y, least emo-y track on the album thus far.
Instead, we are met with a “Stop Crying Your Heart Out”-esque piano ballad. There are some airs of Suede in its theatrical swing. However, it is largely monotonous neo-1960s soft rock. That is the point when unsuspecting, classic Bloody Knees fans may jump ship. It is the first sign of this album being their most Britpop-leaning effort.
The two following tracks, “Super Sunday” and “Oh, Monday”, continue in a similar direction, but are much dreamier, sparse and reverb-heavy. The former’s dynamic fall and rise help keep interest, creating something akin to a Britpop take on Title Fight’s Hyperview (2015). A pivot of this kind was never unthinkable for Bloody Knees; their Gallagher-ian piety was obvious on You Can Have It. Yet, rather than redefining their sound for an album, this pivot is only a mid-record tangent.
“I Won’t Wait” returns to an upbeat punk template. Its melodies may be less provocative, but the song reignites a fire with its noisy, effects-pedal-driven breakdown. That momentum is broken again on the following track, “Slowing”. Acoustic and Beatles-esque, it settles into a softer tone, with cello and bells, perhaps the record’s prettiest and calmest moment. Unfortunately, the shift leaves it feeling detached from its surroundings.
What Else is not perfect, but its release is more than nostalgia. Its softer songs may be overly influenced by Britpop, to the point of being derivative, but in 2020, that was uncommon. Bloody Knees’ most impressive quality is their unique genre-mixing amid pop hooks. On What Else, this is reserved for its upbeat songs, which make up only six of the ten tracks.
Were What Else to have been released when it was intended, it’s possible we would be heralding Bloody Knees as initiators of the recent Britpop-hardcore trend of High Vis or Militarie Gun. In fact, in some moments, vocalist Bradley Griffiths sounds like a less nasally Jimmy Wizard from Higher Power. Although a hardcore album, this is not. The record arrives alongside Wallflower’s reunion and the revival of Muskets members Alex Cheung and Joe Phillips’ soft grunge influence in the buzzing, melodic hardcore newcomers Turn of Phrase. In 2026, perhaps the hardcore scene’s ever-broadening landscapes have room for its ancestors.