I’ll be honest. Maybe you’ll relate.
When my favourite bands release an album, I still get as excited as I did when I was a kid and Bon Jovi put out New Jersey in 1989.
But there’s always that thing in your mind (it’s called overthinking)—what if? Like, what if it’s no good?
And these days, I’m expected to write something too.
So look, as ever, we’ll get this said. Outside of my family and my football team, there’s nothing I love more than The Wildhearts. You want proof? When my first niece was born six years ago, my first words to her as I held her were, “Hello, sweetheart, aren’t you gorgeous? What’s your favourite Wildhearts song?” (This is not a joke).
So look, Ginger has regrouped, retooled, rebooted, and returned with the first Wildhearts album since 2021, with a new band including Ben Marsden and a returning Jon Poole.
He’s also not working with Dave Draper this time. Instead, the album is produced by Jim Pinder, who has bands like While She Sleeps and BMTH on his CV.
That perhaps accounts for the more modern sheen on opener “Eventually.” Has Ginger sounded harsher in decades? Probably not. But then comes the sweet hook. Dig deeper, and what do you find? Nihilism wrapped in a velvet glove—and what we might call a trademark beatdown.
When it comes to “Scared of Glass,” there’s only one band that sounds like this. And Ginger ramps up the folk sound in his voice.
The instrumental musical passages really take you back to the early days, and that soulful ending? No one saw it coming.
“Troubadour Moon” is a beauty. Coulda been a contender. The story of a never-was telling his war stories—”coming to terms with being an ordinary man.” This was the one that, when you heard it as a single, convinced you that this was an album we could be delighted with as fans.
“Fire in the Cheap Seats” is one of those that could go anywhere—from the acoustic intro to the modern prog sounds elsewhere. “There’s a fire in my brain,” he sings, and that perhaps explains a lot.
“Kunce” is kinda a State of the Union from the pen of Ginger. There’s no way he’s not playing this live. And as an aside, “They say ‘holibobs'” is already the best line of 2025—and, of course, there should be a place in hell for these people.
If I say that “Maintain Radio Silence” has the feel of the old B-sides from back in the day. I hope everyone realises that’s a compliment. After all, they were some of the greatest songs ever made. And any song that contains the line “You’re not the shit, you’re not even the toilet, you’re just warming the seat” is a belter, right?
Although it sounds like The Wildhearts (it just does), there are some things they’ve never done before. “Blue Moon Over Brinkburn” is arguably the best thing here—reminiscing on the bad times, boasting a phenomenal chorus, and showcasing a dazzling array of disconcerting sounds.
“Hurt People Hurt People” tackles mental health issues head-on, delivering a powerful message of hope—and I can attest to the fact that Ginger means every word of this.
“I’ll Be Your Monster” deserves bonus points for containing the word “exponentially,” and the sax (played by Shining’s Jørgen Munkeby) ensures a Hanoi Rocks vibe as he takes on all-comers.
“Failure Is the Mother of Success” finishes it off. It was the first single and, simply put, embodies the experiences of the greatest.
And when he sings about “getting through the lows to make it to the highs,” you start to reflect on your own highs and lows over these 30 years—and how The Wildhearts have always been a part of them.
They still are. And The Satanic Rites of The Wildhearts is a brilliant document as to why.
Rating: As ever, The Wildhearts are the only band that will never be given marks out of ten on this site. Their music remains too important to me to be scored.
