supported by 110 fans who also own “Why Aren't You Laughing?”
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