We humans have an innate fear of darkness. The dark signifies the unknown, that which lurks within the shadows. But to be in the dark does not mean to lose oneself, nor does it represent danger. It can instead mean possibility, a simple change of perspective. For Chelsea Wolfe, darkness is a gift, and that has been the crux of Wolfe’s conceptual work for years. Her recent release, The Dark, serves as a love letter to the mysteries that thrive in obscurity.
Wolfe’s ninth studio album released August 21, one week before the lunar eclipse was visible in the West Coast night sky. Whether this timing was intentional or not, it seems only fitting that this transformative art piece would enter the world in a moment befitting of change and self growth.
“There is a message on this record, in the song ‘The Dark,’” Wolfe tells me from a screen as I, in the beginnings of a gloomy, grey Portland fall, ask about her darkness. “Become the darkest thing in the woods. Become the thing that you fear, in order to overcome [it].”
Wolfe will grace Portland with her presence at the Roseland Theater on the Dark World Tour this September 20. All at once goth, folk, and pop, The Dark is a profoundly new sound in the Chelsea Wolfe repertoire. The Northern California-based artist has been building her own mythos for a long time, from her beloved lo-fi debut, The Grime and the Glow (2010), to a plethora of experimental hits like Abyss (2015) and She Reaches Out to She Reaches Out to She (2024). She has a knack for pulling industrial grit into cinematically glitchy gore. But The Dark has tidied the place up a bit, replacing grainy discord with a freshly-tuned piano, dusting off the grime as her spirit keeps organized chaos.
There is no right or wrong way to create, and Wolfe seems to imbue a sort of playful wisdom that’s palpable in her sound. “I had this phrase ‘dark whimsy’ written at the top of my lyrics page,” she tells me. “I wanted to infuse a little bit of that, because I feel like I’m at an age where reconnecting with the playful nature of creativity is important. Not getting overly serious about every single thing that I’m doing.” In that state of play, experimentation takes hold. And while The Dark is more hifi than some of her previous works, that lighthearted touch can be felt through teamwork.
Working with longtime co-writer Ben Chisholm, The Dark saw additional collaborations from influential artists like Nine Inch Nails’ Robin Finck and Justin Meldal-Johnse, Pearl Jam’s Matt Chamberlain, and Warpaint’s Stella Mozgawa. “I felt like we were trying to leave a little bit of space for them to infuse their own playfulness, magic, and wisdom to the songs,” she adds.
Co-producer Jennifer Decilveo assisted the writing process as well, pushing Wolfe to think differently about her music. “There were songwriting sessions with Jen where I would go in with maybe just a verse melody and really build the song together. A song like ‘Cold’, for example. I had the verse and the bridge written, and I thought the bridge was the chorus. So I was like, ‘Oh, we’re pretty much done, we got a verse and a chorus. And she was like, ‘There’s no chorus here,’’” Wolfe smiles. “It was challenging for me because I was pushing my vocal range. But I wanted to be challenged. I wanted to be pushed out of my comfort zone.”
Wolfe walks off the beaten path in songwriting, traversing through noise like a cavern, calling out and following the echo. “I’ll choose a sort of craggly path off to the side that just calls to me a little bit more. I’m not doing it on purpose,” Wolfe explains. “I write a song like ‘Cold’ that’s very clean, direct, and focused. At the same time, I’m like, ‘Why am I doing this? I want to go back in the studio and write, like, a crunchy lo-fi doom song.’ There’s just always two sides within me that are battling each other.”
The Dark sits pretty in this duality. It is dark and light, moon and sun, living and once lived. Wolfe walks me through her inspirations—not musically, but visually. She’s inspired by the desert landscape, the father-daughter relationship in The Last of Us, and the morbidly fantastical What Dreams May Come. Something that really struck Wolfe in her writing process was the gothic horror film The Others.
“There’s this concept in the film where the people in the house are haunted by the ghosts, and the ghosts are haunted by the people,” Wolfe explains. Struck by this idea of mutual haunting, Wolfe finds this theme runs parallel with many living human relationships. “If a relationship isn’t working out, it’s not always one-sided. Sometimes it’s just two people who are not right for each other, but it’s really hard to let go. This album is a lot about letting go.”
Whether letting go of ill-fitted relationships or of our own past selves, the gift of darkness seems to be in simply facing it. It takes a certain courage to live honestly and to be honest with ourselves. The Dark is the culmination of Wolfe’s own grappling with grief, growth, and self acceptance, proving that the self is indeed ever-expanding. While we may not see the end of the tunnel, that doesn’t mean it’s not there. If we only keep walking forward through darkness, the light will come.
Chelsea Wolfe will be playing with opening act Jonathan Hultén at the Roseland Theater, 8 NW 6th, Sunday, September 20, 8:30 pm, $47.50-$332.25, all ages.