Witch Fever - FEVEREATEN (2025) Hi-Res

Concocting a potent sonic assault that recalls the foreboding darkness of Black Sabbath, Savages’ monochrome post-punk and the dirty breathlessness of Bleach-era Nirvana, the Manchester quartet create a confrontational racket that takes no prisoners.

Witch Fever weave doom, punk, goth and noise into the fabric of their second album, FEVEREATEN. Alongside Chris W. Ryan’s production, the four-piece band sounds balanced and unified. Continuing on from their debut, Congregation, FEVEREATEN unpacks religious (and other) trauma through allegory and personal narrative.
Amy Walpole’s raw, nearly feral vocals anchor the album in its emotional core. At the centre of it all is a steady, driving heartbeat: great for screaming into the void about our disenfranchisement. The album builds a familiar sense of otherness, underwritten by experiences coming of age – and now living as adults – under authoritarianism. At the midway point, SAFE features a haunting and ethereal cello theme.

Going next into the title track – a marching song that starts slow before exploding – the album takes a breath before plunging back into Witch Fever’s full tilt punk gallop. Walpole’s bandmates – Alex Thompson (bass), Alisha Yarwood (guitar) and Annabelle Joyce (drums) – get to showcase tightly knit, hard-hitting instrumentals, building a huge, dynamic sound. The album hurtles forward from there, pulling the listener through relentlessly.

FEVEREATEN is an act of catharsis scaffolded by rage, disappointment and hope. At their most connected moments, Witch Fever are prophets of a kind, delivering the listener to a space where big things – noises and feelings alike – are welcome.