Julia Wolf Finds the Line Between Innocence and Adulthood on Pressure
Track By Track: The New York musician takes us behind the scenes of every song on her third album.
Photo courtesy of press
The title of Julia Wolf’s new album makes a lot of sense. Pressure carries a lot on its shoulders, balancing feelings of lost innocence, human competition, obsessions, destiny, the entanglement of insecurities and empowerment across 11 trap-pop bangers. Featuring a production cohort of Cody Tarpley and Lynn Gunn, Wolf’s third LP runs on metal textures and electronic interpretations of emo and shoegaze. A longtime DIY artist, her approach this time was less hands-off yet the collaborative spirit rushes through restless, digitized captivation, landing somewhere in-between Evanescence and Jane Remover. As industry pressures sunk in during the aftermath of her 2023 release Good Thing We Stayed, Wolf turned the camera onto herself. “I wasn’t feeling seen or accepted,” she says. “So I wanted this album to really express the emotions that came with that: the soft doubt, the lack of confidence, the comparing myself to literally everyone that breathes. This was my chance to really lay it all out and be the most honest I’ve ever been.”
Pressure tackles negative spaces with similarly solemn storytelling, but even her moodiest impulses are captured in prismatic, glitchy, head-splitting sequences. It was a holistic, challenging endeavor. “I’m talking about how I would travel to the end of the earth to destroy this person, and using the sonic palette to support that,” Wolf says. “That’s why it gets so heavy. I’m yelling my face off to emphasize how much I really need this person out of my life.” Julia Wolf was kind enough to give us her thoughts on all 11 tracks to coincide with today’s release. Read the breakdown and listen to Pressure below.
“Kill You Off”
“Kill You Off” is about the loss of innocence and rage that comes with feeling betrayed as a young child. A lot of feelings from my youth have definitely carried over into my adulthood where, now, traveling “3000 miles” to kill off the person to blame is something I wish I could do. But along the way I’m also questioning my faith, passing billboards that remind me Jesus “heals, he saves,” yet am left wondering why that salvation couldn’t reach me back then, and why it isn’t me reaching now.
“Pearl”
“Pearl” is really about the frustrations I was dealing with of someone blatantly copying what you do while simultaneously showing support because they admire your work. It’s pretty blunt but I’m trying to show how laughable the charade is, pointing out how someone can try all they want but the transparency in their actions makes it all feel like a joke.
“Fingernails”
“Fingernails” is about my fear and vulnerability when falling in love with someone. The imagery is meant to show how tormenting it is to not know how someone else feels. It’s about wanting to give a person everything, even if it means sacrificing parts of yourself, but also worrying it won’t be enough. There is a push and pull of insecurity, and longing—aching to be seen, but unsure what that will entail.
“Loser”
“Loser” to me feels like the agonizing sequel to In My Room. It’s pretty revealing in terms of how dark my brain can get when it comes to loving someone I feel I’ll never measure up to. Admitting things like chugging NyQuil and burning over coals is just to show how low my self worth gets. It’s the pure struggle of obsession, devotion, and begging for connection, constantly in fear of losing someone due to a wrong move on my part, hence the drafting texts in the notes app.