Listen to the article
Listening to the British rock band Wolf Alice can induce an acute identity crisis. It’s a bit like not being able to decide what to wear until you realize the evening has passed and you never went out.
If anything, their mercurial streak is part of the band’s eccentric charm — fair enough, there were folks at K.B. Hallen on Thursday still bellowing at one another with hefty pints in hand, even though the music had shifted from loud punk to a sophisticated meditation on the passage of time.
