Wolf Alice // Visions of a Life

British alternative music has been waxing and waning since the landfill indie of the mid-00's - remember Milburn? Larrikin Love? Dogs Die in Hot Cars? Wolf Alice is here to change that.

Arctic Monkeys schlepped off to Joshua Desert to unearth their inner Elvis; the Temper Trap were the twee-indie poppers du jour, as ubiquitous on adverts and soundtracks as Phil Collins' In The air; by 2010, the only 'indie' track to even remotely dent the UK Independent Singles Chart was Heartbeat Song by math-rocker nerds The Futureheads, squatting uneasily in between Katy B's debut single and a succession of Example songs with increasingly diminishing returns. EDM had crashed the party, with everyone clamouring to throw some David Guetta-featuring calamity into the charts - rap, pop, r&b, everyone went 'dance'. Indie was dead.

Along came Alice, forming in 2010 and quietly reinstating alt.rock into the zeitgeist. The North London quartet (Ellie Rowsell on vocals and guitar; Joel Amey on drums; Joff Oddie on guitar; Theo Ellis on bass) released their first EP Blush back in 2013, a venom-laced grungy debut with a distinct feminine edge.

The band's name itself is a statement of intent and aesthetic, taken from a short story by horror queen Angela Carter about female adolescence, themes that resurface in the group's work, from Heathers references on the acerbic Beautifully Unconventional to the coy text-speak of Don't Delete the Kisses - a perpetual teenage faze, all rushing excitement and bloodthirsty angst.

Yuk Foo was the entry point for many into Wolf Alice's new record; incisive, snotty, bratty, visceral, raging and with a fresh new mullet, Rowsell and co. deliver their most punk output to date, screeching "Am I a bitch to not like you anymore?/ Punch me in the face, I wouldn't even fight you no more/ Cause you bore me/ You bore me to death", wishing she could sleep with everyone she meets just to release the pent-up apathy. No one would want to be on the receiving end of this character assassination but shit, if it ain't cathartic...

WATCH YUK FOO - WOLF ALICE

Alice's full throttle moments are diffused with intimate, sparse melodies interspersed throughout the record: After the Zero Hour has folk-tinged harmonies and is reliant for the most part on Rowsell's hushed voice; St Purple Green's gospel ode to her grandmother is haunting and beautiful; Planet Hunter's murky, underwater chords are reminiscent of Disintegration-era Cure; and Don't Delete the Kisses' wistful anthem is one of the most heart wrenchingly swooning songs of the decade.

'Don't Delete The Kisses' is one of the most heart-wrenchingly swooning songs of the decade.

Wolf Alice's sophomore album, as with debut My Love is Cool, plays with noise and quiet, seamlessly veering from whispering shoe gaze to riot grrrl snarl with the flick of a chord, coalescing into the tune of the last great indie rock band. Rowsell cites The Girls by Emma Cline, loosely based on the Manson cult wives, as an influence and the idea of being suckered in by a master manipulator led to Formidable Cool, one of the album's lyrical lynchpins: "at the community dancehall/ pink lights flicker/ his hand in somebody's knickers/ he only has to look at you twice/ to claim you his love fool", is her seething whisper atop a noir-y guitar. "I knew it was all an act." Rock hasn't turned such a dithering eye towards poseurs since 'Fake Tales...' and Rowsell is as evocative in her craft as any scribe.

The eponymous final track is Visions of a Life, bowing out with a menacing masterstroke of self-doubt and reverb-soaked claustrophobia. Echo fills every breathing space, chords writhing underneath doom-laden lyrics: "I'm a curse to my friends, to be condemned/ Mistakes I made and won't mend". It's easier to play the villain than to make amends and lick your wounds.

As adept at channelling balls-out fury as creating dreamy lullabies, Wolf Alice have world domination at their feet. Asserting themselves as key figures in the pantheon of British rock history, with Visions of a Life they have revived a dying genre and created a towering achievement on par with their incredible debut.

By Erin Doyle for Avant Garbage