It's no coincidence that
She Reaches Out to She Reaches Out to She
doesn't sound exactly like any of
Chelsea Wolfe
's other music. Made in the wake of her decision to become sober, her seventh album reflects the ways she had to transform in order to survive. However,
Wolfe
knows that rebirth isn't a clean break, and as she envisions her past, present, and future selves working together to heal from trauma and addiction, she reinvents her music by reconciling the old with the new. The blend of
Hiss Spun
and
Abyss
' foreboding,
Pain Is Beauty
's brooding, and
The Grime and the Glow
The Birth of Violence
's hauntingly direct songwriting that can be heard on
She Reaches Out¿
extends to the album's creative team. Alongside regulars
Ben Chisholm
,
Jess Gowrie
, and
Bryan Tulao
is producer
David Sitek
, an inspired choice to bring fresh energy to
's music.
Sitek
is an expert at collaborating with magnetic vocalists like
Karen O
Celebration
's
Katrina Ford
and creating soundscapes rich with depth and detail. All of these qualities are abundant on
. Not only do the album's intricately detailed productions and arrangements envelop
's audience, they take an active role in depicting her struggle with equal measures of beauty and terror.
Though
focuses on change,
hasn't lost any of her ability to make her listeners' hair stand on end. When she sings about "bathing in the blood of who I used to be" over gut-sinking bass on "Whispers in the Echo Chamber," it's still not adequate preparation for the onslaught of wicked riffing that follows. Even when the album doesn't explode, the tension is unrelenting; on "Everything Turns Blue," the buckling beat and queasy synths give way to a spine-tingling breakdown filled with echoing, wraithlike vocals.
's voice barely rises above whispers and coos, but it's always the main attraction on
, particularly when she uses the haunted, fragmented elegance of trip-hop to frame her catharsis. She takes the ache
Portishead
Massive Attack
brought to the style to extremes on "Tunnel Lights"' glowering desperation, "The Liminal"'s frostbitten dread, and "Salt"'s mesmerizing brooding.
, and company push themselves even farther on wild sonic trips such as "Eyes Like Nightshade," an unearthly collage barely grounded by percussion that rattles like chains, or "Unseen World," a sinuous blend of Middle Eastern strings and cascading beats. As dark as the album gets, the remarkable clarity
brings to her journey through fear, anger, sorrow, and strength suggests that change is possible. "Dusk" offers a satisfying, if not entirely happy, ending, revealing a sense of determination -- and one final eruption of guitar -- that delivers a well-earned feeling of closure. Hopeful in a deeply honest way,
chronicles an evolution that brings out the best, most adventurous aspects of
's music. ~ Heather Phares