How ‘Bros’ by Wolf Alice defined the sound of 2010s adolescence
At 13 years old, a decade seemed like an infinite space that would never be reached. The concept of time passing felt so far off in the distance, something that only adults talked about, something that didn’t happen to you. And then it did. Here I sit now, as I approach my 23rd birthday and wonder where the time went. An adolescence slipped away in the blink of an eye, and a time warp that only the soundtrack of dreamy indie rock could master. It’s a call that Wolf Alice answered only too well.
From an outsider’s perspective, charting the band’s evolution over the years has also felt like a highly personal one, as their sonic efforts have also rung true to the notions of growing up and creating a new version of oneself. Granted, that sounds really pretentious, but the point is that you’ll only ever find a rare few artists who speak to you in just the right way, at just the right time, through the beats of your life – and growing up in the 2010s, Wolf Alice epitomised just that.
Take their 2015 breakout song ‘Bros’ as the starting point, a naïve melody of dreams, ambition, and immature cares. Now a decade on, looking back on the tune makes you realise the exact crossroads of the moment it was released in, as childhood was on the cusp of transitioning from pure innocence into an unfettered new world of social media, new horizons, and the true reckoning of the early part of the 21st century. It was exciting only because we didn’t know what was coming next.
That sentiment was expressed by Wolf Alice’s lead singer Ellie Rowsell herself, who described ‘Bros’ in an interview at the time as “an ode to childhood imagination and friendship and all the charm that comes with that.” But that statement is intriguing – not because it’s untrue by any means, but because although the band have long since left any illusions of childhood behind, the unbridled charm has always remained, making them a definitive sound of any sonic era they command.
This is easily traced through every aspect of the band’s subsequent discography, from the rudimentary love affair of ‘Don’t Delete the Kisses’ to the soaring sonics of ‘The Last Man on Earth’. In fact, as I write this, I stuck on the latter tune – and I was instantly transported back in a weird vortex of years. It’s bizarre how a song you haven’t heard in a while can do that to you, because all of a sudden, I was back in pandemic days, battling against the perils of an online university degree, and just having no concept of what the future would hold. Life was insular – and, in a way, I too felt like “the last person here”.
Jumping to the present day in the Wolf Alice time capsule, four years have simultaneously felt like an eternity and the blink of an eye, and suddenly they’re back with wild vivacity in ‘Bloom Baby Bloom’. It may have taken ten years of development to truly realise it, but Wolf Alice are putting the cards on the table for the state of youth, before ripping them to shreds, because why reflect on the rush of this current life when you can sing it?
All of this is to say that what started out as naïve nostalgia looking back on the romance of childhood has turned into a real force of reckoning, both for Wolf Alice and all those who revel in their wake. A decade has flown by fast – but who’s to say what will happen in the next, and how the band will be there to soundtrack its every beat. I, for one, can’t wait to find out.
