A Remi Wolf gig is a high-octane event. On stage, the US singer hurls herself around, a flurry of bright colours and curly hair throws. The audience lap it up. “It’s just a big house party normally,” she tells me, over video call from her hotel room in San Francisco. “I get people dancing and screaming and really up on their feet and cheering.” The shows embody Wolf’s personality: confident and energetic, but always in control. “I want to have complete control over my own career,” the 26-year-old agrees, adding that she’s glad she has the skills to back it up. “If I didn’t, I don’t know where the f*** I’d be right now. Probably in a ditch.”
Wolf’s music is rainbow-bright and trippy, with hyperpop elements woven in. Even the titles are fun: there were the canine-themed EPs You’re a Dog (2019) and I’m Allergic to Dogs (2020), followed by remix record We Love Dogs in 2021. That same year, Wolf (no, it’s not a stage name) also brought out her debut studio album, Juno, and a deluxe version that dropped this month. Her lyrics are a word-salad jumble peppered with expletives: “You got an ice cream cone on your leg motherf****er/ I got two fish kissing on my cl*t motherf***er,” she raps on “Liquor Store”.
On songs such as “Quiet On Set”, her love of video games and nostalgic children’s TV shows also come into play. “I was an adult gamer when I was in eighth grade,” she says. She’s the oldest of four siblings, so the children’s shows soundtracked her home life well into her teens. She juxtaposes this with her exploration of more adult themes, such as heartbreak and addiction. On “Sexy Villain”, she riffs on the “crazy ex” trope, singing: “He’s a keeper, big believer/ Long as he don’t check the freezer.”
This chaotic sound has already attracted the attention of artists such as Lorde and the Red Hot Chili Peppers, both of whom invited Wolf to support them on tour this year. She has a song named after Chilis’ singer Anthony Kiedis; unsurprisingly, he’s a fan. “I just can’t even fathom how that even happened,” she says. “They’re one of my favourite bands of all time and it’s in Florence… It’s just a beautiful pile of pasta.”
Being half-Italian herself, Wolf feels an affinity to the country despite being raised in Palo Alto, California. Her parents are retired athletes, and Wolf began skiing competitively when she was just seven, making for an unconventional childhood that prepped her for tour life. The following 10 years were spent competing for the US, but by the time she was 17, her love for music had started to drown out her sporting ambitions. She hung up her skis and picked up the guitar, instead. “[Now] I’m like, ‘Oh, OK, why don’t I try to integrate [the two].’ And I’m figuring out how to do that,” she says. “But yeah, it’s so bizarre. I can’t believe that was me.”
Shortly after quitting the slopes, Wolf’s teacher suggested she try out for American Idol. It was a mercifully brief sojourn into the cutthroat world of reality television; clips on YouTube show a young Wolf in her first audition, singing Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get It On”. She counts it as a blessing that she didn’t make it past the first few rounds. “If I had done, I would have not been here,” she says. “They just throw you directly into the industry, you have no ability to become yourself. I am so, so happy I didn’t make it through… I mean, I was barely even aired.”
It wasn’t until Wolf began studying music at college that she was able to develop her own unique sound. At the same time, she dabbled – from the sounds of it a little too much – with alcohol for the first time. In 2021, she told The Guardian that she got sober during lockdown because she “would eventually die or not be able to function”. She’s less keen to discuss it now, simply referring to this stage of her recovery as a “journey”.
It’s understandable that Wolf might want to keep some things to herself, in this era of over-exposure. She’s comfortable with social media, although just last week she told fans that a successful TikTok video had been bombarded by trolls calling her “fat”. There’s pressure from the industry, too. In the last month, artists including Charli XCX, Halsey and FKA twigs have all complained of their labels badgering them to create content for TikTok. Wolf – who went viral on the video-sharing platform thanks to her 2020 collaboration “Photo ID”, with Euphoria star Dominic Fike – says this isn’t her aim.
“I can’t think about it like that,” she says. “Once you get into that spiral, your process is ruined and it’s not authentic any more.” I ask Wolf if she sees social media as part of the work, or the real her. She pauses. “Nobody’s ever asked me this question,” she says. “It’s definitely a bit of both. Even before I had this job, I was such a Tumblr kid.” She says she’s “totally herself” online: “There’s no front, there’s no bulls*** going on. All I can do is just be me. Like truly, that’s honestly all I can do.”
‘Juno (Deluxe)’ is out now
