I’ve been doing this a long time. And along the way, I’ve learned a couple of things. Chief amongst them is never to pretend you know something you don’t.
Someone always knows more about a band than you do.
So here’s a confession: I know Wolf Alice are a big deal. I know they’re playing arenas in the autumn, that they’ve won Brit Awards and Grammys and the like. But I’m not aware that I’ve ever heard one of their songs until “The Clearing” arrived.
So you listen, don’t you? Out of curiosity. And before you know it, they’ve sucked you into their orbit. The strings mean there’s gravitas here. There’s skill. There’s something a little beguiling, a little unsettling perhaps. But when you open a record with a track like “Thorns,” you’re making a statement.
The piano forms a key part of this. “Bloom Baby Bloom” grooves around it—like Kate Bush fronting Ben Folds Five. And when things get a bit more soul-oriented on “Just Two Girls,” it sounds almost jaunty.
Wolf Alice are a band where anything could happen. The acoustics of “Leaning Against A Wall” feel like someone busking in your living room—until it rather breathlessly intones “is love our greatest performance?” Up to then everything is pleasant. Then you stop dead in your tracks. WA have a habit of this, it seems. Peel away any layer and it gets dark.
So even the summer breeze that is “Passenger Seat” leaves you on edge. It shouldn’t, but it does.
The glorious tinkle of “Play It Out” sounds so world-weary and cracked. And there’s something bleak when she sings, “in sickness and health, I promise to cherish myself.” You can’t help but wonder—what struggles led to this?
“Bread Butter Tea Sugar” is arguably the best thing here. It has more time changes than Genesis in the 1970s, and Wolf Alice are surely but a heartbeat away from full-on prog.
“Safe In The World” is calm, even content, while the harmonies and strings of “The Midnight Song” are both beautiful and bleak at once—like a rugged coastline in a November storm.
The folk tinges continue with the relentless “White Horses,” where Joff Oddie takes centre stage in the verses, at least. But let’s be honest—no one upstages Ellie Rowsell for long.
She is brilliant. There’s no other word for it. And as she lays all her hopes and dreams out on “The Sofa,” what becomes clear is how normal those things are. They’re just delivered in an extraordinary way. And as the last line on the record—”I hope nobody comes to tame her, she can be free”—points out, Wolf Alice will keep doing what they choose.
Look, here’s the thing. I’m a bloke of almost 50 who is going to spend Saturday at a rock ’n’ roll festival because his favourite band is playing.
I’m not supposed to understand this world. And I won’t pretend I do. But a lifetime of listening to music means I understand a couple of things: first, I know when a band is genuinely interesting. Second, I know when a record is good. On both fronts, “The Clearing” makes that clear.
You already know this. The world seems to have caught on. Me? I’m just catching up.
Rating: 8.5/10
