It’s strange to think that the career of Chelsea Wolfe has only been prevalent over the last five years, especially considering the high acclaim that the U.S singer-songwriter has gained. In this relatively short time frame she has released four albums, along with several extended plays, and given how prolific this inimitable artist is, her sound has grown with every release. From the minimal and insular debut ‘The Grime and The Glow’, through the mesmerising chaos of ‘Apokalypsis’, she reached a new level of grandeur on her critically lauded 2013 album ‘Pain Is Beauty’.
If there was any pressure to follow-up the power that was unleashed on ‘Pain Is Beauty’, you wouldn’t notice it when listening to ‘Abyss’. Whereas in the past, the music was produced in-house by Wolfe, and her creative partner Ben Chisholm – for ‘Abyss’ they opted to relocate to Dallas, TX to work with producer John Congleton (Swans, Xiu Xiu, Modest Mouse) resulting in her most expansive, confident and extroverted record yet.
Within seconds of the droning guitars that open ‘Carrion Flowers’ the blackened tone is set for the next hour of darkness that is ‘Abyss’. Chelsea Wolfe’s ability to paint a picture with her music knows no boundaries, conjuring a bleak and wretched image of despair, with layers of distortion underneath her haunting vocal passages. She appears at her heaviest on the monolithic ‘Iron Moon’, as it carries hues of doom metal, twisting and turning between monolithic highs and serene lows. Wolfe counteracts the unhinged nature of the music by exposing herself lyrically, crooning “My heart is tomb / My heart is an empty room / I’ve given it away / I never want to see it again” with brooding eloquence.
While ‘Abyss’ is far from a simple album, or indeed easy to digest, it is home to some of the most accessible compositions we have seen from her. ‘Maw’ builds into a swirling haze of reverb, while Wolfe’s vocals reach glass-shattering heights. ‘Grey Days’ is redolent of Kate Bush’s bold “Ninth Wave” section of her 1985 album ‘Hounds Of Love’, and the stripped back ‘Crazy Love’ shows Wolfe at her fragile best. However, while there are moments of searing beauty, there is no light in the darkness that shrouds ‘Abyss’. The desolate build of ‘Survive’ escalates into a wall of noise with harrowing intensity, refusing to be contained.
As with all of Chelsea Wolfe’s records, they have a soundtrack like feel to them, and ‘Abyss’ is no exception. This is not the score to an art house horror like you would expect, but more of a backdrop to the most heartbreaking black and white film you could pull from the darkest place in your mind. ‘Color Of Blood’ is filled with the raw emotion that comes with a great celluloid love loss, and the disjointed title track that closes the album spirals out of control – like the euphoric release of revenge when an antagonist meets their demise.
‘Abyss’ is by far and away Chelsea Wolfe’s most accomplished, and domineering work to date. She has raised the bar once again, and pushed herself to create a powerhouse of a record that pulls you from pillar to post emotionally and physically, and cemented her position as the queen of darkness.
GLEN BUSHELL