Is ‘Last Man on Earth’ still Wolf Alice’s finest live song?
No one tell Ellie Rowsell, but I really, really liked Wolf Alice’s final single before The Clearing.
‘White Horses’ was a futuristic take on 1970s Americana, with their suitably looking drummer taking the helm on vocals. Singing about love having magnetic properties, it was a hypnotic journey through folk tinged psychedelia that not only got me outrageously excited for the band’s fourth album, but arguably became my favourite of theirs, full stop.
But the spirit of outrage culture aside, Rowsell’s performance in that song is perhaps one of my favourite things about it. Her distorted vocal hook in the chorus is undoubted proof of just how important she is in the current musical landscape. Even as a secondary player, her voice is flawless, distinctive and proves she is the de facto leader of the band and someone whom they can safely follow into whatever creative breach they fancy.
Of course, this isn’t exactly cutting edge journalism. Wolf Alice have released three albums, first two were nominated for a Mercury Prize and the third won one. Now, rather frighteningly, their fourth sounds like their very best. So, of course, to say Rowsell harbours one of music’s most captivating voice feels obvious.
Let’s not forget that, as ‘White Horses’ crucially reminds us, behind her charisma stands a band bursting with their own arsenal of artistic ideas that align with their leader. Together they spin a never ending web of sounds that range from the raucous ‘Giant Peach’ to the expansively romantic ‘Don’t Delete the Kisses’.
It’s what makes their live show so enthralling, for it captures the essence of what has always made a good show: the slow build up and release of tension. But in that space between both sentiments is a song that is arguably their greatest live number.
‘The Last Man on Earth’ is a vulnerably stripped back number that removes any such idea that Rowsell and the band are one, and instead thrusts her firmly into the spotlight. Rarely does she quiver in that space and instead she always leans in to the emotional sentiment of the song, delivering a final rally cry in what feels like an otherwise isolated planet.
In fact, take my experience of the song. I’ve made it clear that I enjoy Wolf Alice in the higher octane environment some of their songs can conjure up. So in the 2022 Glastonbury rain, when I stood waiting for that moment and Rowsell instead sat at the edge of stage, to hint at a tapering down of pace, I assumed this wouldn’t be a moment for me.
But she sat, in pure tranquility, in an otherwise chaotic environment and captivated a hefty audience without even lifting a finger. In pure silence, we all stood and gave her the space to deliver what was a profoundly impactful vocal performance. It was, to my own surprise, the sort of performance that amplified the sense of raw humanity you crave at a festival like that. I didn’t think it was until then, but it might just be their best live song.
