The Wildhearts - Satanic Rites of The Wildhearts

Too Heavy for Pop, Too Catchy for Metal, Too Honest to Ignore—Meet Your New Favorite Old Band.

Do you remember the first time a band made chaos feel strangely comforting?
For some it was stumbling down a Wildhearts YouTube rabbit hole and wondering how one band could sound like Motörhead, The Beatles, and Therapy?—all in the same song. It didn’t make sense, but somehow, that was the point.

The Wildhearts were never built for the mainstream. Lineup chaos. Addictions. Vanishing for years only to erupt back onto the scene like a Molotov cocktail. Ginger Wildheart’s story alone reads like a rock ‘n’ roll Greek tragedy—complete with public meltdowns and private resurrections. They were too melodic for metal, too raw for pop, too punk for radio. And that’s why so many of us still care.

Their latest album could’ve been a mess. Instead, it’s a reckoning. Satanic Rites of The Wildhearts is their eleventh studio album, the first since Ginger's much-publicized battle with addiction and mental collapse. It arrives not as a desperate grab for relevance, but as a declaration: The Wildhearts are still here, still swinging, and still weirdly necessary. Raw, loud, melodic, messy, and reaching for something that still matters.

But does it land? Let’s dig into what the critics think.

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🔥 What Works

Melodic Mayhem Reborn

It doesn’t take long for the chaos to click. From the first punch of guitars, critics like Louder are calling it “arguably their most cohesive and complete yet.” This is not nostalgia-core. It’s evolution without compromise. The riffs hit hard, the hooks are razor-sharp, and there’s an urgency here that doesn’t feel recycled.

Is this the most dialed-in they’ve sounded since the 2000s?

Songs That Actually Mean Something

Not every band that plays loud plays with heart. But Ginger does. Tracks like “Hurt People Hurt People” don’t just rock—they reach. Behind the noise, there’s empathy, vulnerability, and soul. It’s rare and real. “Love, acceptance, understanding—all things I’m still learning,” Ginger told a fan recently on social. And you hear that journey in the lyrics.

Unapologetically Wildhearts

No trend-chasing. No auto-tuned detours. “Scared of Glass” could’ve dropped in 1995 or 2025—it doesn’t matter. The riffs slam, the melodies soar, and it’s all unmistakably them. Callbacks to Thin Lizzy, AC/DC, and The Ramones feel earned, not borrowed. You get the sense that they’re writing the songs they want to play, not the ones they think you want to hear.

Production That Serves the Sound

There’s power in restraint. SonicAbuse praised Dave Draper’s production for letting the songs breathe without dulling their edge. It’s tight without being sterile, big without being bloated. You can feel the air between the riffs, the grit in the vocals. It’s the kind of production that honors the chaos without taming it.

Do you miss the scruffier production of older albums?

Lyrical Honesty That Hits Hard

What’s left after you burn everything down? Apparently, clarity. From “Prove Me Wrong” to “Cease and Desist,” Ginger lays it out bare. MyGlobalMind calls it “brutally honest but never wallowing.” There’s pain here, but also fight. And maybe most importantly, there’s reflection. The album doesn't glamorize the struggle; it wrestles with it.

A Band That Still Feels Dangerous

The Wildhearts sound like they’ve got something to lose. And that urgency pulses through every note. Critics agree: this isn’t just a decent comeback. It’s a mission statement. The unhinged energy of their early years hasn’t disappeared—it’s just been sharpened by time and trials. And that’s powerful.

👉 Want the full story?
Unlock the second half of the review to hear what critics didn’t love—and find out if Satanic Rites delivers all the way through.