Chelsea Wolfe once binned an entire album, rather than release something she wasn’t comfortable with. This was years ago, “aged 20, 21, maybe”, and she’d recorded a collection of what she calls “shitty singer-songwriter” material, her first proper go as a solo artist. Much as this was a matter of taste, it was the lyrics that were the real stumbling block. Having poured her heart into it without knowing when to say when, when she stood back and looked at the finished article, the results were, she remembers with a wry smile, “way too much diary-rocking”. “I recorded it, and immediately after I realised that it was way too personal,” she says. “I realised, ‘Oh, I don’t actually feel super-comfortable with this yet.’ So I trashed that album.”...