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Album Review: Cairiss - Wilderness (2026)

  • 3 hours ago
  • 6 min read
Artwork: Freya Brown
Artwork: Freya Brown

Written: 23rd July 2026


Back in 2014, blackgaze band Cairiss released their landmark demo Disgraced, which amassed over two million streams. An EP - Fall - followed in 2016. Now, more than ten years later, they return with their debut album Wilderness. Crafted across years of writing and self-reflection, the album follows a conceptual journey through trauma, loss and recovery, weaving together themes of identity, grief and hope into a deeply personal narrative. Vocalist Freya Brown states, “The album was written during intense periods of pain and recovery, and reflects a personal journey in understanding, surviving and ultimately integrating experiences that once felt unliveable. Wilderness gives a voice to the parts of us we never tell anyone.”


Wilderness merges the lines between blackgaze, post-rock and post-metal and opening track Nervosa is a perfect example of this. Beginning with gentle, yet nevertheless, slightly ominous acoustic guitar, the track builds steadily for the first minute with Alex Taylor’s insistent bass hinting at the sudden crescendo to come. When it does, electric guitars, drums and bass intertwine in an intoxicating post-metal collision. The first vocals arrive after two and a half minutes as the music falls away and ethereal female vocals take the lead. Phantom hands trace my skin / I'm counting ribs to sleep again / The weary paths are warm below / Faraway clouds dappled with snow. Nervosa portrays a traumatised protagonist reduced to scattered pieces, wandering through a sea of desolation. The balance between these lighter moments and the cries of torment as the vocals take a darker, guttural turn is characteristic of much of Wilderness, signifying the internal dichotomy that dwells within the narrative.


Much thought has clearly gone into the arrangement of the songs and while the thunderous central section has much aggression in its personality, the melodic changes occurring in the background add colour and vibrancy. The penultimate minute is almost ambient in nature and the shoegaze aspects of the band’s personality come to the fore. However, the feelings of endless dread resurface in the song’s tortured climax. Brown is clearly unafraid to lay bare her experiences in telling her story, “Nervosa was written whilst I was in eating disorder treatment. I was deeply afraid and barely knew who I was anymore. I was left with fragments of myself and no clear sense of how to rebuild.” Nervosa – its eight minutes rushing by - is a formidable opening track, introducing both the psychological weight and thematic depth that underpin the journey ahead.



Second song The Guide – which reaches almost nine minutes – is another compelling blend of post-rock and blackened rage. Soaring vocals sit above the abrasive intensity of the growling vocals yet neither threatens to overwhelm the other. Following the isolation of Nervosa, The Guide introduces the first glimmers of hope. Immersive, shimmering guitars give an expansive, poignant quality to the music, while the underlying work of the rhythm section adds a feeling of something cathartic building within the protagonist. A quieter moment in the middle of the song allows for some elegant guitar work and more delightful vocals. Please love you / We can give you everything. Yet the feelings of shame, self-doubt and fear remain and a tumultuous musical explosion threatens to derail the path to redemption. I don't deserve love / I carry this blame / It eats at my stomach / I'm always ashamed / Another round / With nothing to show. The visceral concluding part of the song is one of my favourite moments on the album and features some stunning guitar work from Martin Williams and Ethan Bishop. Throughout, Cairiss make astute choices with dynamic and vocal changes, preventing the composition from ever settling into comfortable repetition.  


Far less musically turbulent than what has come before Integrate exudes an introspective and reflective aura. Structured almost like a conversation between the male and female vocals, it examines loss of self that occurs during a co-dependent relationship. It is well positioned after the opening two songs and adds a completely different atmosphere to Wilderness. Based around delicate guitar (both acoustic and electric), Integrate draws us closer and gives us a window into something extremely intimate. Freya Brown explains, “The song speaks to those of us who have found themselves locked in toxic dependency, and how difficult it can be to disentangle yourself from that dynamic.” There is a striking vulnerability to Integrate and despite its moments of grace and tenderness, there are times when it almost feels as though the listener is intruding upon something deeply personal. Rather than creating distance, however, this candour strengthens the connection between band and listener, demonstrating just how convincingly Cairiss inhabit the emotional landscape at the heart of the album. It may not possess the dramatic peaks and troughs of Nervosa or The Guide but its quiet power is no less affecting.


Dissociate, built around circling lyrical phrases, serves as a twin to Integrate but in the words of Freya Brown, “speaks to the disconnected ruminations of existential dread that often accompanies the aftermath of a traumatic experience.” Beginning with a sense of foreboding, this lyrical cycle is initially mirrored by the repetition of the guitar phrasing. Once the song ignites, we are treated to a truly ferocious passage during which bassist Taylor and drummer Connor Frapwell demonstrate the rhythmic cohesion that exists between them. In what is the most varied track on Wilderness, sections of choral vocals, post-black metal and ambience follow, creating a frenzied and volatile feel that illustrates the probing nature of the human mind and that despite our desperate search for answers, some experiences may forever remain beyond our understanding. Maybe it’s all for nothing / And I've already lost it all / Maybe I'm just hoping / That one day I'll come home.



Retrace and Wildfire end the album with the former framing vulnerability as a courageous step towards safety and the latter shifting the narrative towards one of clarity and a sense of purpose. Wildfire maintains the album's fusion of light and shade, pairing uplifting, expansive melodies with passages of blackened intensity that rank among the most impactful on the record. There is a genuine sense of momentum within the song, as though years of hardship are gradually giving way to acceptance and renewal. Brown's lyrics leave little doubt that a transformation has taken place and even the growled vocals carry a positive message. The biggest reason I can see / Is just how beautiful life can be / When dreams and thoughts unwind / And leave the world behind / I don’t want to fade / Into misery / I want to dance with synergy / From now until the end of time.

The soaring guitar solo that emerges during the second half of Wildfire is a particular triumph, radiant and transcendent. When the harsher vocals return, they no longer feel consumed by despair; instead they suggest salvation is finally beginning to eclipse the darkness that has lingered throughout the album. Cairiss wisely avoid offering a simplistic resolution, however, and the final roar serves as a reminder that the future remains uncertain. My favourite track on the album, Wildfire provides a fitting and profoundly moving ending.


Photo credit: Marie Korner Photography
Photo credit: Marie Korner Photography

The success of Wilderness lies not in any single riff, vocal line or song but in the way every element serves the wider journey. The narrative is unflinchingly honest without ever feeling self-indulgent and the band display an impressive ability to move between blackgaze, post-metal, post-rock and more delicate atmospheric passages while maintaining a strong sense of identity. The contributions of Freya Brown, Lydia Williams and Martin Williams are central to this achievement, their differing vocal approaches allowing the album to inhabit a wide range of moods while never losing sight of its core purpose.


There is a sincerity running through every note of Wilderness and it is this, as much as the musicianship, that makes the album so rewarding. Fans of Alcest, Deafheaven and Sylvaine will find much of interest here, as will those who enjoy the dark, ethereal qualities of Suldusk. After more than a decade away, Cairiss have returned with a debut album that feels both deeply personal and remarkably mature; a challenging and immersive work that contains an ambition and breadth of vision that make it one of the more striking blackgaze releases of the year.



Wilderness is released on 31st July 2026


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