by Nolan Conghaile
DeWolff’s Fuego! Brings a particular kind of joy that doesn’t arrive lightly. It isn’t giddy or ornamental. It rises from the gut, works its way upward through sweat and breath, and lands at the heart. Fuego! lives squarely in that space. This is joy as combustion by a band that plays with the energy sparked by groove, grit, and the shared language of musicians who know exactly where the flame comes from.
Rather than presenting a museum-piece homage to their influences, DeWolff approach Fuego! as a communal act. These are not covers in the polite sense; they are songs re-entered, reinhabited, and re-ignited. The band’s deep affection for Southern rock, blues, and soul is never disguised, but neither is it treated as a sacred artifact. This is reverence with dirt under its nails.
From the opening moments of “Judgment Day,” there is a looseness that feels alive rather than casual, that’s the energy from the eras where it was live to tape, capturing the trust in the song’s internal engine. The band understands that the power of this music lies not in precision but in conviction. Groove is structural, making each performance shine with the confidence of players who know when to press forward and when to let space do the talking.
That understanding comes fully into focus on “The Fan,” the album’s gravitational center. This is an example of where DeWolff stops sounding like interpreters and starts sounding unmistakably like themselves. The psychedelic undercurrent is thick but controlled, swirling rather than smearing. Pablo van de Poel’s vocals are emotive with an energy that is grainy and grounded in the body rather than the ego. The addition of backing female vocals widens the track, adding color and dimensionality to the emotional field.
What truly defines “The Fan,” though, is the band’s sense of architecture. Luka Van De Poel’s drums keep time and build the shape of each phrase’s narrative, building each section with groove and intent. Guitar and organ converse rather than compete, their improvisations unfolding as extensions of the melody rather than departures from it. When the guitar leans into that classic ’70s distortion of thick, saturated, and unapologetically physical, it feels right, and Poel’s playing is impassioned. This is DeWolff at their most revealing. Robin Piso’s organ playing brings a special energy to the band that understands how to cultivate a mood to a controlled climax, not forced.
Joe Bonamassa’s guest appearance on “The Fan” is the perfect collaboration. His solo doesn’t interrupt the flow; it deepens it. There’s no sense of hierarchy here, no spotlight-grabbing, just shared fluency in the classic blues-rock vocabulary. Bonamassa and DeWolff speak the same musical language, one shaped by blues-rock tradition but animated by immediacy and feel. The result is heart and heat in equal measure, a moment that feels less like a communion of souls.
Elsewhere, Fuego! continues to balance ferocity with Southern rock blues grit. “Fire and Water” carries its soul lineage openly, while “Faster and Faster” barrels forward with the urgency of a band unafraid of momentum. Even the closing medley, “Fire and Brimstone / Hawg Frog / I Walk on Gilded Splinters,” shows the band’s live energy charms. It feels ritualistic rather than sprawling, a final invocation that gathers the album’s energies into one slow-burning finale.
What’s striking about Fuego! is how decisively it points forward while looking back. DeWolff sounds like a band deeply in the energy of creating music in the moment, live and tamed. The songs have their structure and moments of discipline, but still bring that dangerous live feel. You can hear the live band energy in every track. The physicality, the trust, the sense that these songs are meant to be felt in a room with other bodies, not just processed through headphones. Fuego! reminds us that at its best, rock music is about lineage carried forward with conviction and joy. DeWolff keeps the flame alive and invites us to stand close enough to feel the heat.
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