Every now and again a track jumps out from the pack and immediately makes me want to listen to the whole album. In this case, it was ‘Reformed (Try Love)’ by Wolves. The band, despite being around for a few years, are releasing their self-titled debut in September on Scottish label Ripcord Records. The album, self-described as the culmination of years of chaos, reinvention, and ferocious live shows, feels like a statement of intent from a band finally ready to put their flag in the ground.
The opening track, ‘LEECHES!’, is an energetic start, buzzy guitars and call-and-response vocals delivered at a relentless pace. The aforementioned ‘Reformed (Try Love)’ is sharp, acerbic, and unpredictable, blending Dillinger-style chaos with a tinge of early Gallows, plus a touch of spoken word that makes their inspirations crystal clear (not for those with more delicate sensibilities!)
‘A Stolen Horse’ reins things in slightly with a mix of clean and screamed vocals, adding a touch more melody without losing any of the bite. The aggression comes roaring back on ‘All or Something’, built around a thumping breakdown. Across the album, Wolves blend genres with ease, folding in mathcore complexity, post-hardcore dynamics, and punk’s raw edge—all channelled through an undercurrent of frustration and urgency. The production is agile and precise, allowing each shift in tempo and tone to land with impact.
‘New Live, Same Eagle’ shows a different side to the band, opening with atmospheric guitar that feels almost alien compared to the album’s more aggressive nature. But the screamed vocals and spoken-word sections keep the tension alive, building patiently toward a swirling crescendo. It’s one of the clearest examples of their ability to balance chaos with control.
That balance also plays out in the structure of the album, which mixes shorter, full-throttle metalcore blasts with a handful of longer, more expansive tracks. ‘Thirteen Crows and One Pigeon’ merges spoken word with screams in a way that feels almost like the album’s narrative voice, while ‘A Guide to Accepting One’s Fate’ and ‘Nicaea to See You (To See You Nicaea)’ are lean, aggressive, and unapologetically direct.
Closing track ‘Emergency Equipment’ stretches out again, weaving multiple vocal styles into an almost serene mid-section before slowly winding back up into a brooding build and an epic, cathartic finale.
Wolves have created a debut that’s evidently been a long time in the making, but the result is a confident, razor-sharp record that feels both meticulously constructed and dangerously volatile. It’s quite a rare combination, ferocious, fearless, and utterly uncompromising. A band to keep an eye on.
