โThe Wolvesโ finds Max Norton stepping out from behind the drumkit and fully into his own skin. Tampa-born and Nashville-bred, heโs spent years powering other artists on some of the worldโs biggest stages, from Coachella and Bonnaroo to late-night TV. After a spell living and writing in London and now settling in Muscle Shoals, Alabama (โthereโs just something in the water,โ as he says), Norton is clearly in that restless, searching chapter of his story, and this single sounds exactly like that feeling in motion.
The track opens with a high, trailing harmonica line that glows at the edges, riding over thumping drums and a deep, meditative guitar pulse. It feels like headlights on a long highway at dusk, since it gets so steady, hypnotic, just a little haunted. Nortonโs vocal slips in gently, contemplative, and introspective, so it lands on the heavier side. He sings, โSitting here waiting for a sign / to come my way / passing the time,โ portraying that familiar feeling of being overwhelmed, but already itching to move, too tired of being stagnant.
As the verses unfold, he wrestles with that tug-of-war between persistence and fatigue, as he sings, โseems like Iโve been trying my way / Iโm out of luck, but I guess Iโll stay,โ capturing the grind of pushing forward when every route leads to the same crossroads. Then the chorus lifts, as his voice soars lightly yet with real depth as he sings of โrunning from the wolves on my tail,โ asking the universe to โthrow me a bone, tooth, and nail.โ Those wolves feel like doubt, fear, time itselfโalways chasing, never quite catching.
The arrangement never grandstands, but it grows subtly with each pass, mirroring the resilience at the songโs core. By the end, โThe Wolvesโ comes off as a weathered, honest, and stubbornly hopeful traveling companion, still driving on even with the pack right behind.
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Review by: Naomi Joan