SPOTLIGHT: Chelsea Wolfe’s ‘The Dark’ is a Chilling Exploration of Beauty Found in Grief
SPOTLIGHT
SPOTLIGHT
☆ BY KYLEE WIENS ☆
IF CHELSEA WOLFE’S 9 STUDIO ALBUMS—35 years of music experience and collaborations with the likes of Converge and Tyler Bates weren’t enough to convince you of her musical prowess, perhaps her latest studio album, The Dark, will. Wolfe is an artistic force, conveying mastery of goth, folk, metal, art rock and even trip-hop genre conventions woven through, across and between her impressive body of work. Despite each album’s critical acclaim and commercial success, Wolfe still approaches each new album as a clean slate—an opportunity for connection with listeners and for candid introspection. The Dark is no exception. Ten tracks create a vivid emotional and sonic universe, one that celebrates darkness while embracing the unknown.
Wolfe recognizes darkness as a concept that is nuanced and complex, and says this album is meant to explore all of its intricacies. “[The album] is also just a love letter to dark culture…there's so, so many of us that love dark art and film and things that deal with the occult. And for me, the dark is very romantic and full of possibility.” In many ways, this album is a return to form for Wolfe’s earlier work—gothic themes are explored in a stripped-down, folk presentation. The result feels intimate, frill-free and disarmingly candid.
The album aptly begins with “Cold,” a hauntingly beautiful realization that Wolfe must distance herself from a proverbial “you” who is bringing her unhappiness. Lyrics “I'm not running away, I'm running back home / I need to know who I am without you” evoke the kind of stark emptiness that a necessary but painful decision brings. The track is reminiscent of a barren and lonely scene—a suburban parking lot, a windy field at twilight or an abandoned strip mall. Her vocal delivery is set against a backdrop of simple acoustic chords and keys that seem to dance on each sensation of sadness.
“Humours” is a gothic ballad that viscerally portrays the self-isolation that so often comes with heartbreak. Lyrics “I built a house around me / Just to hide from your gaze / What an awful waste” directly speak to the shame and paranoia of trying to rebuild a life after devastation. “Halo” marks a subtle shift toward the optimistic with lyrics “Left my sickbed, fled out and took flight burned up, glowing from the light / show me the way out of this long night.” This turn feels almost surprising just shy of the album's midpoint, but Wolfe explains "I'm also someone who just has determination ingrained in them. I think it's passed down in my matriarchal line, and so even if I'm singing about something really sad or difficult, there's this little thing inside of me that says, ‘We're not going to give up.’”
The eponymous track “The Dark” tells the tale of someone entering a forest at its darkest point, travelling its darkest path, and ultimately finding themselves in the chaos and confusion. At this point, listeners become more privy to Wolfe’s pervasive sense of self and indomitable spirit. Wolfe explains, “I feel like I'm definitely stepping into a new era. I think a lot of that has to do with just where I'm at in life as a woman in her early 40s. I am changing and expanding in different ways, and so I'm putting a lot of that into the music. But at the same time, it feels like a return to form in a way too.”
This return to form is palpable in the album’s latter half. “Turn the Key” elicits many of the gothic, hardcore elements of Wolfe’s previous work, while “I’m Not There” is an utterly devastating, yet completely honest surrender to the grief of change.
“Death is Not The End” is delivered like a whispered prayer, with minimal instrumental arrangements in the track’s former half lending way to a dramatic crescendo in the latter. The result feels theatrical and operatic, presenting the album’s emotional apex with grandiosity. “Dancer in the Sky” is an ambivalent conclusion and explores the intricacies of heartbreak through breathy vocal delivery. Lyrics “Deepest blue of night reminds me / Of all we left behind / It doesn't еven matter / Does it еven matter?” prevent a cliché bow-tie ending, and instead present an honest reality of grief that is complex and full of questions.
Wolfe’s The Dark is a candid, intuitive and self-reflective meditation on the complexities and nuances of moving through difficult emotions. There is certainly pain, loneliness and confusion in the dark. However, listen closely, and you’ll also hear the beauty, strength and courage that can be found in it too. That is the mark of Wolfe’s artistic prowess; she crafts a sonic universe layer by layer, each containing unique meaning and impact.
