There aren’t many people – except the people that make them big plastic advertising hoardings that cover the seats in football stadiums – that welcomed lockdown, when it hit last March, but DeWolff might be in the minority.
They are, after all, a band that has made a career out of doing what they wanted to do. And, for album nine, they were – as Pablo van de Poel pointed out in interviews before the release of “Wolffpack” – afforded a blank slate and time to think. “I figured: never in our lives are we going to have this much time again to soak up inspiration, to write and create,” he said.
That in itself is interesting, given that the bands whole thing last time out on “The Tascam Tapes” was the raw, the primal, this one comes from the opposite end of the spectrum. This is one that has layer after layer put on top.
It says much for the skill of the group that both of these approaches work incredibly well and the two albums – almost seen as two sides of the same coin – are both equally superb.
The outright expansive nature of this one is shown as early as the opening to “Yes You Do”. The organ of Robin Piso to the fore on something that has a touch of Deep Purple about it, but there’s a funkiness, a soul, on this one – and that acts almost as a golden thread throughout the album.
“Treasure City Moonchild” sees the other van de Poel – drummer Luka – to the fore in a real creative way, but the guitar of his brother steals the show. Managing to find a real dirty fuzz that comes straight of the 1970s.
The breadth of material here is perhaps best shown by the next one. “Do Me”, on which the band have never sounded more soulful – and if that’s not strictly my thing, you can’t deny the skill with which its done.
“Sweet Loretta” is much more what you signed on for. Bluesy, quirky, and proper catchy, it is the band at their best, and “Half Of Your Love” has echoes of Prince.
The lavish, broad and lush soundscape that this lives on, is in no small part due to the amount of special guests here. “…..You Do” featured the bass of Ian Peres (ex of Wolfmother – who when you think about it are natural bedfellows) but elsewhere artists like Dawn Brothers, blues rockers The Grand East, singer-songwriter Judy Blank, the riotous Broken Brass and French singer-songwriter Theo Lawrence all appear.
One of the most interesting things about this album is that none of the songs are too long. For all that “Lady J” seems like its going to go off down some Gov’t Mule type rabbit hole – and it always seems that DeWolff are mere heartbeats away from becoming a full on jam band – there’s a snappiness about it all.
It must be said, though, that if you didn’t know that they were European, there’s no way you’d guess. They couldn’t sound more American if they were driving down Route 66 in a drop top Cadillac, “Roll Up The Rise” is your proof.
But, say whatever you like about the tangents they go down, when you boil it down, DeWolff are basically just a damn fine bluesy rock n roll band. One capable of really rocking hard like on “Bona Fide”, and sounding pretty much exactly like the Black Crowes would if they added a horn section on “R U My Saviour” arguably the best thing here.
“Hope Train” finishes things off, but it does in such a way that shows the sheer ambition they have. Beginning as an acoustic strum, it morphs quickly into something like a wall of sound, if it was conceived by The Doors, but if its title suggests a bright new tomorrow, then DeWolff are already looking past that and onto the next thing.
Such is the way with creatives I suppose, and they’ve never sounded more creative than here.
Rating 9/10
