Birth of Violence

Central to Birth of Violence, the Northern Californian's stunning voice and insular lyrics tie everything into one clear, bewitching vision.

The music carries the listener throughout each track, making for a meditative experience. With Birth of Violence, Chelsea Wolfe offers a compelling work brimming with emotion and dreamy wonder.

The juxtaposition of her soft yet strong vocals draws you into her ghostly world, both dark and thrilling. Birth of Violence is a work of art that will please old fans and draw in new listeners too.

Instead of the fire-burning street-taking bloodlust of your 20’s, the fight in your 30’s feels seated deeper in the belly. Birth of Violence feels like it’s about that fight: finding strength, power and will, and rising up to exert it all in the face of unending victimization and marginalization. Wolfe draws parallels between the treatment of women throughout history and the treatment and disregard of Mother Earth, also in the throes of shaking off her human oppressors.

This is the work of a brilliant artist who is singular in both talent and vision. [14 Sep 2019, p.54]

The result is charged and post-apocalyptic. [Oct 2019, p.90]

With Birth of Violence, she takes a momentous step forward with songs that initially mask their sophistication behind plodding, strummy, dreamy facades. Because of Wolfe’s newfound ability to communicate so much more with less, you could call Birth of Violence a tour de force—only Wolfe has mastered the art of eschewing force altogether.

Chelsea Wolfe's creative versatility is on full and fearless display here once more, her music both invigorating and intoxicating on Birth of Violence.

Gloominess is nothing new in traditional American music, but Wolfe layers the sorrow with a compelling sense of urgency. [Oct 2019, p114]

This is, arguably, the most consistent sounding album she has ever produced, and although it may not appeal to every one of her fans, it’ll certainly have old fans relishing in the brooding spiritual journey it provides.

With melodies that are stretched thin and simplistic lyrics that feel even more so next to the sophisticated arrangements, Birth Of Violence’s dark beauty is like standing outside watching the stars in winter: stark, beautiful, and a little numbing.

Birth of Violence isn’t Wolfe’s best album, or her most intense, or her most accessible. But what it is is a combination of elegant songcraft, dread-fuelled musicianship and otherworldly vocals. ... Birth of Violence no longer stands in the centre of the crossroads, it opens up a new road... down.

Rather like Bruce Springsteen's lo-fi masterpiece Nebraska, Wolfe re-creates a sparseness (albeit with modern production methods) that shows off her best assets, doing more with less.

The result is an album that displays Wolfe's versatility and ability to stir power from whispers as easily as she does howls. [Oct 2019, p.39]