Remi Wolf deserves all the flowers that grow from this Mud

In the early morning hours of Friday 9th October, California’s alt-pop empress, disco-funk genius Remi Wolf released her fourth long-play project Mud (2026). And by Friday morning, I mean I got back from a Thursday night out at around 3am, saw the blessing of a notification that one of my most anticipated albums of the year had finally dropped and listened to it right then and there. Hallelujah.

If the trio of singles preceding this album were a tasting menu of the messy, honest world of Mud, they were perfectly selected. And yet, nothing could have prepared me enough for the other eight tracks. I was slack jawed in awe on my first listen, of course.

Speaking of the former, Wolf kicks off and gently slides up the volume on the album with the track ‘Bottle’, the second single of the roll-out. It’s a fantastic opener; the polite synth beats paired with the tentative, restrained electric guitar and Wolf’s smooth tone allow the album to introduce itself. With ‘Bottle’ as its header, Mud (2026) sidles into its voice. Immediately listeners know this project is going to be more grounded and revelatory than Wolf’s typical oeuvre, leaving behind the absolutely major production of debut album Juno (2021) in favour of live instrumentation and intentional, enunciated lyrics – dutifully following the belted catharses in Big Ideas (2024). ‘Bottle’ is true to its words: ‘I grew up and I stayed the same’. Listeners will recognise Wolf’s signature neon hyper-alt-pop style but are newly introduced to her open and earnest heart, which she has kept in her pocket for long enough.

Where Wolf’s emotion typically sits in the tension and tempo of the playful hyper-production and abstract lyrics of her songs, in Mud (2026) she slackens the reins and allows herself to express almost precisely what has been falling short in her life. Every layer is spread thick on a plate of delicious bass rhythms, drum patterns and vocal harmonies that is sure to translate phenomenally to the live shows. The unabashed, loud sensitivity that Wolf untangles in this work is tenfold the musical magnetism of the rest of her discography. The only thing that is consistent with her other albums is her voice: otherwise, it’s so clear that Wolf has matured in both music taste and lyrical skill.

Standouts include track 5, ‘Jamie’, a melodramatic breakup ballad with sultry spoken-lyrics reminiscent of ‘Motorcycle’ from Big Ideas (2021). The track builds to a guitar and vocal crescendo – the kind that’s always stunning in the hands of Remi Wolf – much like quite a few of the tracks on this album. Don’t even get me started on ‘Twiggy’. Everyone loves a good bridge, but rarely have I heard such a phenomenal build as the one Wolf and collaborator Jack DeMeo cracked in the three years it took to create ‘Twiggy’. Frankly a historic first single of an album cycle – the day it came out I wrote about it in my journal…

A gapless transition here or there on the album would have taken it even further. There are charming little snippets of voice memos or studio cuts at the end of a few of the tracks, but they are abrupt and for the truly settled album that this aims to be, a little more crossfade mixing would’ve hit the spot.

In the title-inspiring track, ‘Covered in Mud’, Wolf admits in a spiral of insecurity that ‘nothing I write sounds like the hits on the radio’, but I would argue that’s exactly what cements her as such a staple in the alt-pop sphere. Her musical, lyrical and collaboration prowess is so completely original and inimitable that those with good taste have already heard of her even if this cycle is the first time they’re tuning in. Remi Wolf deserves all the flowers that grow from out of this Mud.

Words by Erin Gascoigne-Jones.