Wolf People @ Cargo

Expectations are either quashed or amplified when you see a band for the first time. It’s that make or break moment that rests on the shoulders of triumph or despair. Like a first date in many ways. Will she be as attractive as she is through a pair of binoculars from the tree in her back garden? Or was that just her sister? Judgment day has arrived…

As Wolf People enter the stage, smoke starts to fill the air in Cargo. I haven’t seen a smoke machine in a long darn time, and although some venues stand firmly against it, this is the sort of haunting alt-folk affair that benefits from such additions. Slowly escalating eerie coos start to trickle through the cracks in the feedback, at first dripping into mystified pools of electric folk until it builds in to mountainous solos that clamber up and up until lighting strikes and ravenous musical thunder screams.

Constantly building, with a riff that resembles Black Mountains' ‘Don’t Run Our Hearts Around’, ‘Silbury Sands’ burns, engulfs, and ascends into a rousing pound of trippy rock. But when ‘Morning Born’ drops, it becomes fundamentally clear that ‘Salbury Sands’ is the tip of the psych-burg. It commences as a near-Celtic folk squeeze of ambient vocals that ring through the ages of seemingly medieval notions, before its Fairport Convention credentials slowly disintegrate. From these dying embers come the monstrous rock and roll fires of '70s Zeppelin, as guitarists Jack Sharp and Joe Hollick let their fingers run over fret boards like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Wolf People’s debut record, ‘Steeple’, is clearly influenced by the 1970s. But what confirms its authenticity is the diverse range of influences – from the harmonies of Laurel Canyon with Zappa and his groupies running wild in scenes of hallucination, all the way to the Continental Hyatt House with over-indulged rock stars prancing around in women’s blouses, grooving to torrid guitars that sound so important they become like the roar of God himself.

Wolf People - Silbury Sands by All Tomorrows Parties

Jack Sharp’s voice contributes largely to Wolf People's significance. He could’ve easily slipped comfortably into a harmony-based CSNY folk collective, crafting melodic Fleet Foxes / Low Anthem ditties. But instead he’s chosen to utilise his gift and lend it to rock and roll. 'One by One from Dorney Reach’ embodies this notion religiously. Its ‘Immigrant Song’ riff judders and undulates before the inevitable fret-play kicks in and guitars, once again, run rampant through the debauched hamlets of feedback and distortion.

Recorded in a 17th century barn in Wales, 'Steeple' has clearly benefited from such archaic surroundings. Tonight, however, shows something else. Wolf People clearly have one foot in the past and an adoration for their musical heritage, but every other part of their body, instruments included, is leaping forwards into the modern age as they commence their takeover of rock and roll.