Review: Cairiss – Wilderness

Published by Vince on

Artwork by: Freya Brown

Style: Blackgaze, Post-Black, Post-Metal, Progressive Metal (Mixed Vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Alcest, Sadness, Draconian, Sylvaine
Country: United Kingdom
Release date: 31 July 2026


There’s a lot of fixation on extremes in today’s world. Maybe it was like that in yesterday’s world, too, I don’t know. Regardless, you can’t seem to land anywhere without something—a movie, video game, book, music, et cetera—being lauded as either the justification for the continuation of human existence, or the reason we should be struck from the Earth. Gone, it seems, is the appreciation for “good” (at least, in regards to Internet circles). Then again, this is hardly a surprise when all of our platforms—hell, our entire society, practically—are run by algorithmic systems designed to feed on and reward our outrage. That’s what makes working at the Subway so rewarding: not only do I get to (virtually) be around a bunch of cool people, but we also understand and appreciate the value of the creative middle ground. Not everything can be a masterpiece, but that hardly means it isn’t deserving of your time.

Which brings me to UK newbies Cairiss, and their debut LP Wilderness. Bridging Alcest-ian blackgaze with the shimmery post-black of Sylvaine, led by the beauty-and-beast dynamics of vocalists’ Lydia Williams and Freya Brown, Cairiss bring a progressive flair to the usual repertoire of jangly riffs, wind-whipped tremolos, and stampeding blast beats. Brown’s anguished blackened howls, partnered with Williams’ lilting sirenic cleans, channel the primal duality of the natural world, savage and serene in equal measure. Guitarists’ Martin Willimas and Ethan Bishop take more than a few side trails along the way as they carve a path through Wilderness, injecting their melancholic and vicious post-black with dashes of progressive introspection and warm folk, like rays of moonlight piercing the canopy of a twilit forest as you huddle around the fire.

For me, blackgaze’s headiest trait is the genre’s ability to seamlessly integrate sounds of gossamer beauty and primal vitality into a cohesive whole, and Cairiss showcase this splendidly. Take closer “Wildfire”, for instance, which crackles and stirs the soul as campfire-ready acoustic guitar beckons Williams’ gentle vocalizations, like a forest spirit drawing the world to a dewy wakefulness before Brown crashes in, her anguished blackened howls raw with awe and reverence for life, and the hope to be found:

The biggest reason I can see
Is just how beautiful life can be
When dreams and thoughts unwind
And leave the world behind

The song resonates with a heartfelt realization, that “happiness and pain [are] one and the same”, and ends with Brown and Williams coming together to proclaim with force and fire a desire to celebrate life until the end of time—not via the rejection of misery or pain but rather by accepting them as part of life’s multifaceted tapestry. All the while, Bishop, Williams, and drummer Connor Frapwell reinforce the lyrical themes through rousing instrumentation that never fails to underpin the ghostly sorrow haunting the song’s idyllic focus. The rest of the album similarly explores themes of pain and healing, presenting itself as a journey wherein every track fixates on a particular “psychological response to suffering.” And, while I wouldn’t necessarily have picked up on that without reading the lyrics, Wilderness overall does a fine job of conveying that sentiment sonically, through the anguish of Brown’s blackened howls, Williams’ plaintive operatic lilting, and effective instrumentation that blurs the lines between hopeful and hurting.

Along the way, progressive explorations add to the record’s theme of journeying. Take the almost bluesy solo at the midpoint of “The Guide”, which emerges from the wilderness of tremolos and crystalline vocals like a veteran explorer, torchlight in hand, to offer sage advice and guidance, before returning the wanderer to their frosty path—albeit, with new knowledge in hand, given shape in the rousing solo that backends the track. A flickering hope within the black heart of despair, revealing glimmers of shape and context to be further explored on the paths ahead. While the band do a solid job of establishing their theme and keeping it moving via propulsive songcraft, there is an unfortunate sense of sameness that begins to creep in to the record, a faltering in standout compositional moments that leave much of the work on display sounding always great but never quite rising to any truly meteoric heights. Like wandering off the beaten trail of a forest, Wilderness loses sight of actionable landmarks as one descends into the midsection, leaving the listener stranded in a copse of similar-looking trees.

Luckily, the album’s forty-three minute runtime refuses to let rumination become stagnation (despite several tracks eclipsing the seven-minute mark). And before you know it, you’ve broken through the treeline of this forest of suffering and emerged into the heartfelt and cinematic conclusion that is “Wildfire”. Brown’s final lingering cry feels like a powerful reminder that life is beautiful not through a denial of our pain, but rather by embracing and transforming it to further our understanding of happiness. Wilderness may be a few landmarks short of breaking up the blackgaze scenery, but one can’t deny that this little forest Cairiss has planted makes for a rather pleasant—and introspective—hike.


Recommended tracks: The Guide, Retrace, Wildfire
You may also like: Silhouette, Nostalghia, Violet Cold, Svalbard
Final verdict: 7/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Facebook | Instagram

Label: Independent

Cairiss is:
– Connor Frapwell (drums)
– Ethan Bishop (guitars, vocals)
– Freya Brown (vocals)
– Martin Williams (guitars, vocals)
– Alex Taylor (bass)
– Lydia Williams (vocals)


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