A sea of black smothers The Forum by the time singer-songwriter Chelsea Wolfe graces the stage to present an evening of modern gothic revelry.

Things are notably different since the last time she brought her electronica-infused folk metal stylings to Australia in 2022 on the back of Tasmania’s Dark Mofo; for one, the venue is larger; her band (previously absent due to illness) is present and accounted for; and she has a bevy of songs from her newish album, She Reaches Out To She Reaches Out To She, to loosen upon the crowd.  

The darkening of the stage lights is preceded by Melbourne-based opener Aphir, whose pulsating electronica and penchant for celestial ambience mesh well with what’s to follow.

Walking onto the stage sporting an unassuming confidence as well as an oversized Uboa shirt in homage to the show’s initially intended support act, Aphir spends much of her set with a mic in one hand and a drumstick in the other, maintaining command over an array of gear and effects. A few songs in, she gifts the audience with brand new songs, Messengers and Moratorium, fittingly introduced for the first time live while supporting Wolfe’s tour. 

Soon after, the question of the unattended mic and Novation keyboard to Aphir’s right is answered when she’s joined by frequent collaborator Lack The Low, who lends a greater singer-songwriter heft to proceedings to a handful of songs, including The Marker and Convert The Masses. The pair share a hug before Aphir launches into her final song for the evening, offering one last bout of pulsing beats and lively gnashing. 

The crowd is suitably prepared by the time the lights dim down to introduce Wolfe and company, who seem to almost materialise into their stations amidst the enveloping darkness. Wolfe herself seems almost to float towards the microphone, clad in long black, with a voice that shifts between mournful ethereality and a wailing indignation.

The performers’ silhouettes and the moody, often minimalist lighting inform much of the show’s brooding visual identity. At its best, the lighting, whether latticing Wolfe or illuminating her from the waist up, lends an expressionist, almost inhuman character to her performance. Standing siren-esque at the microphone stand for the early portion of the set, Wolfe’s occasional thank you towards the audience does little to break her intoxicating spell over them.

Beginning her set with her latest album’s opener, Whispers In The Echo Chamber, Wolfe and her band kick things off with crushing industrial fervour, much to the crowd’s delight. Subsequent tracks from the 2024 LP, including Everything Turns Blue and Tunnel Lights, further showcase the band’s deftness in oscillating between the mechanical and the emotive.  

For the more classically industrial House Of Self-Undoing, the tempo picks up, and Wolfe begins to stalk the stage like a forlorn spirit. The band maintains a tight hand as they wade through the mire of distortion that crashes in and out throughout the set.

Afterwards, the mood slows back down again before Wolfe dons a guitar, to the audience’s elation, to enter into 16 Psyche. Headbanging becomes almost compulsory, and is most certainly had for the next few songs as the set takes on a doomier style, which continues with The Culling and Dragged Out before a more cinematic, almost dark Western character is introduced.

The guitar is then shelved momentarily before Wolfe reasserts her wistful, spectre-like presence with Unseen World and Eyes Like Nightshade, exploring the stage with embellishments like a pendant, a shaker and what appears to be some sort of black (of course they’re black) chimes; she motions with the items almost as if they’re sacred artefacts and it’s here where the show feels like the audience has been invited into the forbidden privacy of a witch’s sabbath. 

Wolfe’s striking electronica is back in force by the time her latest album’s popular closer, Dusk, meets the audience. The sound throughout the set is an impressive balance of miasmic chords and heart-pounding beats. Despite the pleasantly overpowering sludge favoured in many of the songs, the texture continues to shine through. Whether it be the grating of a cymbal or the crackling keyboard ambience, no detail is missed, and Wolfe’s eerily powerful vocals are no exception. 

Interestingly, the band mellows out towards the end of their set, going acoustic for a rendition of Flatlands, before the band briefly exits and Wolfe is left playing The Liminal solo with an acoustic guitar in what almost transforms the show into a surprisingly intimate affair.

Despite the shedding of people, the audience remains just as gripped by the enigmatic frontwoman as they were from the first song, and the moment proves Wolfe is equally capable of captivating a crowd whether she’s standing strident and alone or backed by a band. 

Wolfe leaves the crowd stomping the floor in a rapturous response before she and the band enter once more for a handful of heavier material. The choice to lull the crowd into what is technically the show’s finale with her quietest numbers is an interesting one, allowing the encore to serve as one last satisfying ascent before the curtains close. Overall, the offering is an intimate and powerful one, effortlessly showcasing the many colours of Wolfe’s evolving sound in a tightly paced and resplendently gloom-filled evening that evinces a dark star that continues to shine brightly.