Review Summary: Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide
Chelsea Wolfe has always been an artist most comfortable sitting somewhere between worlds. In a 20-year career and across quite a hefty discography, she has established a particular, compelling sound based on dark / gothic rock, doom metal, and electronica led by her characteristic, expressive voice that has now grown into an instantly recognizable brand. My first introduction to it was when a printed, local metal magazine praised 2013’s
Pain Is Beauty, yet I was ultimately drawn more to the sludgy heaviness of
Abyss and
Hiss Spun, however I think I’ve enjoyed most of her endeavors, including the rough debut
Mistake In Parting, as well as the 2021 collaboration with Converge on
Bloodmoon. Then came
She Reaches Out to She Reaches Out to She in 2024, where much of the guitar-driven identity was temporarily pushed to the sidelines in favor of a more synthetic palette of industrial electronics and trip-hop. Ninth studio album,
The Dark, returns from that detour back to familiar territory, but this time in a somehow more expansive manner.
I don’t think Wolfe was particularly interested in simply recreating her old sound with this album. The elements are all there: piano, melancholic acoustics, intimate songwriting, and the sense that you’re hearing someone alone in a room (or, in this case, in a forest), but this time, artist and music alike feel more purposefully outward-reaching. The concept of the dark represents more a place of renewal and metamorphosis, as themes of personal grief, toxic relationships and the resilience to them are discussed a lot in the lyrics. There is less of the sonic density that dominated past records, yet that more open musical ambition does not chip away from the inherent darkness that occupies any Chelsea Wolfe release. Apart from the known co-songwriter Ben Chrisholm, this time producer and composer Jennifer Decilveo (The Strokes, Hozier, Miley Cyrus) also contributed on the tracks of
The Dark, with the touches of the latter being more or less evident once the album unfolds.
The opener “Cold” is a good introduction to this new balance. Acoustic guitars, restrained piano and deceptively gentle vocals that carry considerable emotional substance as well as a generally accessible structure that may surprise longtime fans that yearn for Wolfe’s heavier work. Immediately after comes “Seethe” (featuring Troy Van Leeuwen of Queens of the Stone Age on the guitars), one of the most engaging pieces on
The Dark, and one that has her older self looking through the window. The song’s memorable basslines, and dark alternative-rock swagger, have a gothic flavor that’s almost playful, although Wolfe’s menace remains intact. “Seethe” would easily fit in a murky corner of a ‘90s alternative rock playlist, comfortably beside The Cure and Placebo. Not to mention, it ends as abruptly as the finale of The Sopranos.
With a convincing first two-track statement,
The Dark continues in more seductive momentum on “Humours” and “Swallower”, which both feature eerie melodies as the record almost approaches gothic pop. The hooks are never as obvious as in a regular rock album, while at the same time remaining as some of the easiest to follow Chelsea Wolfe material to date. Lyrical inspiration from The Last Of Us has been mentioned for the moving fifth track “Halo”, and on the title track that follows,
The Dark’s different identities come together most successfully. Characterized by a candid dark- folk texture, it employs a recurring theme of the album where a plain introduction slowly evolves into something larger and more spacious. The central conceptual brush of overcoming fear is elaborated further here, as the metaphor of one becoming the most frightening presence in the woods in order to reclaim strength and confront what’s in the way.
Welcoming back a bit of thickness into the equation, the guitar lines on the first seconds of “Turn the Key” almost had me believe I was listening to “16 Psyche” again. Wolfe’s voice works perfectly against a heavier backdrop, and the track progresses effortlessly with nice double vocals / synth additions here and there, ending up one of my favorites on the record. A turn to a more vulnerable side is taken on “I’m Not There”, whose introduction brought PJ Harvey in mind (as it has often happened in Chelsea Wolfe’s discography). The well-earned transition from the fragile, elevated first part of “Death Is Not the End” to the slow-paced guitar echo in its middle section made me smile, experiencing top-notch drone / doom metal that she’s totally capable of, even for a moment. Once the final track “Dancer in the Sky” arrives, Wolfe goes as epically symphonic and grand as she’s ever been. This one is for the arenas.
The most interesting aspect of
The Dark, for me, is that while it stands as one of Chelsea Wolfe's brightest records so far, it somehow never betrays its concept, or compromises her fundamental commitment to introspection. Embracing more direct songwriting results in material that feels less enigmatic than before, yet she’s completely honest and thoroughly effective all along. This showcases an artist confident enough to stick with a conceived vision all the way, while clearly possessing the compositional talent to make it a reality. Wolfe may benefit from the fact that she can afford this generosity with her audience, creating an album that’s unmistakably hers and has a gripping effect once one approaches it under the appropriate light. Or dark.
