‘Wolf Creek’ Soundtrack Secures First-Ever Vinyl Release With ‘Blood-Filled’ Record

Happy Halloween: Wolf Creek is about to haunt us all over again with the news that its soundtrack is coming to vinyl for the first time. And it’s not just any old vinyl: it’s a “blood-filled” record.

Arriving in early 2026, the surprise record is being released via Impressed Recordings in partnership with Rubber Records.

Horror fans will be able to experience the film’s score like never before, with a new remaster and pressing on 180g vinyl in Impressed Recordings’ first-ever blood-filled record. The record will also arrive with exclusive spooky artwork and liner notes.

The Wolf Creek Original Motion Picture Soundtrack was created by Grammy Award-winning composer and producer François “Franç” Tétaz. Released in 2005, the original soundtrack album was nominated for the ARIA Award for Best Original Soundtrack in 2006.

For the soundtrack, Tétaz utilised prepared piano, along with Alan Lamb’s unsettling telephone wire recordings from outback Western Australia, and a string quartet, to create a philosophical accompaniment to the film.

The music on the soundtrack features atmospheric soundscapes, sparse instrumentation, and amps up the dread with ambient music, all of which capture the haunting menace of the film’s Mick Taylor.

The record is an exclusive Collector’s Edition Release. There’s a limited pre-order window, which opens today and closes Friday, 15 November. There’s free shipping Australia-wide ahead of the official release on Friday, 27 February 2026. You can pre-order your copy here.

In a statement, Tétaz explained that the Wolf Creek score was born out of experimentation and improvisation during the studio sessions. “I was searching for a voice for the outback that was unique to the film,” he said. 

“With a tight budget and timeline, I worked with a piano frame, laptop and prepared guitars, strings, bass clarinet, percussion and Alan Lamb’s recordings of abandoned telephone wires.”

Tétaz added that the telephone wires—actually a “giant decaying aeolian wind harp stretched across the outback”—successfully made a sound that introduced viewers to the myth of Mick Taylor and the vastness of the location.

“The sound is eerie, unknown and full of degradation,” Tétaz continued. “Anthony Pateras whacked and tore at his piano frame to create visceral metallic violence. Dave Brown’s guitar, prepared with alligator clips, flicked and resonated with an e-bow, added an intimate twitch and nervous ticks for the abandoned mining sheds and rusted out cars. The sound of decaying metal.”

He concluded, “In the aftermath of all the violence, the survivors are left to face the outback terrified and alone. I wrote a series of pieces for the wires and string octet to provide pathos and empathy for the survivors. 

“As much as the film is pure horror entertainment, the score helps to expose us to our fear of the unknown. What we don't know, we fear. The outback is Mick Taylor.”