laudanum at 33
This seems like a song that has existed for hundreds of years but was somehow blocked out or forgotten. Now it should be sung in churches or any holy place on Earth because it's addressing a divine and exalted retribution.
Distressing subject matter delivered with such confounding beauty and purity. This song occupies an intense, uncompromising and ultimately empowering musical space. It will claw you back to listen again and again, louder and louder.
supported by 196 fans who also own “All Bitches Die”
This album gurns and churns with the dense, atmospheric power of an angel wrestling the forces of hell.
Wolfe's voice is an ethereal swirl, but it can cut like a blade. Her guitar, meanwhile, is a reaper's scythe, and with it, she flails like a Balrog summoned deep and raging from the bowels of Middle Earth.
It's an album of dreams and nightmares, a sludge-gaze torrent of painful questions hurled into the void.
A brave, bold and empowering listen. Michael Mueller