Filmed in Salem, Massachusetts during the recording of Hiss Spun, “The Culling” video portrays the thin line between dreams, memories, and possession. The visuals are inspired by the 1996 film Romeo + Juliet, along with the work of artist Bill Crisafi, who co-directed the video with Wolfe. Ashley Rose Couture created the costume design from hair, tree bark, and other organic materials.
In the video, Wolfe plays the part of the possessed, the demon, and the necromancer overseeing it all. The video emerges as European tour dates commence, including support shows with Ministry. Immerse yourself in the video at the link below, and read on for full tour
listings and further information about Hiss Spun.
SEP 23 San Francisco, CA @ The Regency Ballroom
SEP 25 Seattle, WA @ The Showbox
SEP 26 Portland, OR @ Crystal Ballroom
SEP 28 Salt Lake City, UT @ Crucial Fest
SEP 29 Denver, CO @ Cervantes soma order tracking Masterpiece Ballroom
SEP 30 Albuquerque, NM @ Sister
OCT 03 San Diego, CA @ The Music Box
OCT 04 Los Angeles, CA @ The Regent
OCT 06 Las Vegas, NV @ Brooklyn Bowl
OCT 07 Phoenix, AZ @ Crescent Ballroom
OCT 09 Tucson, AZ @ Rialto Theatre
OCT 12 – 14 Perris, CA @ Desert Daze (CW Only)
Chelsea Wolfe on tour – http://chelseawolfe.net/shows
Chelsea Wolfe: guitar, vocals
Ben Chisholm: bass, electronics
Bryan Tulao: lead guitar
Jess Gowrie: drums
“What I want is to open up. I want to know what’s inside me. I want everybody to open up. I’m like an imbecile with a can opener in his hand, wondering where to begin—to open up the earth. I know that underneath the mess everything is marvelous. I’m sure of it.” –
Digging beneath the mess of the world to find the beauty underneath is perhaps the most consistent theme in Chelsea Wolfe’s expansive discography—a theme that ties together her ceaseless explorations in unorthodox textures, haunting melodies, and mining the grandeur
embedded within ugliness and pain. With her sixth official album Hiss Spun, Wolfe adopts Miller’s quest to become empowered by embracing the mess of the self, to control the tumult of the soul in hopes of reigning in the chaos of the world around us.
While past albums operated on the intimacy of stripped-down folk music (The Grime and the Glow, Unknown Rooms), or the throbbing pulse of supplemental electronics (Pain Is Beauty, Abyss), Wolfe’s latest offering wrings its exquisiteness out of a palette of groaning bass, pounding drums, and crunching distortion. It’s an album that inadvertently drew part of its aura from the cold white of the New England winter, though the flesh-and-bone of the material was culled from upheavals in Wolfe’s personal life, and coming to terms with years of vulnerability, anger, self-destruction, and dark family history.
Every Chelsea Wolfe album is cathartic, but never before has both the artist and her audience so desperately needed this kind of emotional purging.