Afton Wolfe - Ophiuchus (2025)

Singer-songwriter Afton Wolfe is arguably the most conceptually artful troubadour that we have heard since Tom Waits. The reference to Waits is rather obvious in Wolfe’s deep, gravelly voice and in his off-the-beaten-track concepts. Yet, Wolfe also possesses the fearlessness of Bruce Cockburn, the intellectualism of Leonard Cohen, the deep woods poetry of the late Malcolm Holcolm, and the dark mysticism and southern Gothic of his native Mississippi.

Ophiuchus is named for a little-known large constellation known as “Serpent-bearer” (most appropriate in the Year of the Snake and in our current society, where deception, deceit, and lying have become commonplace). Wolfe has issued every track as a single, culminating in this release on November 30 as the sun passes through the so-named constellation between November 29 and December 18 (before entering Sagittarius). Thus, Wolfe has presented to us the 13th sign of the zodiac, so to speak. Wolfe says this, “…The Serpent Beater is actually a bringer of medicines and poisons – all from the snake’s venom, with the power to heal or destroy the world. Each of the songs can be used either way as well.”

Wolfe’s touring band is aptly dubbed The Snake Hunters, comprised of multi-instrumentalist Seth Fox (saxophones, clarinet, guitar), Jackson Oberhauser (bass), Madison George (drums), and Alan Bailey (keys). However, only Fox and George play on the album, with keys and other instruments handled by Slice Ehevaria (keys), Daniel Seymour (bass), Mary Hull (piano), and others. Wolfe plays guitar, piano, Ominchord, and lead vocals. He also enlists co-writers on some tracks.

Appropriately, there are 13 songs. Wolfe begins with the title track on 11/30 and ends on 12/18, with Sagittarius and the song “Invocation.” The title track, rendered conventionally with guitar, banjo, bass, and drums, lays out the choices facing the serpent bearer – “I am the Medicine man/I do what I can/for the guilty and the pure/With a poison or a cure.” “I Deserve to Be Forgiven” is a rather obvious plea to right the many wrongs of a lifetime. Piano and pedal steel bring a waltzing quality as four vocalists come together in a beseeching choir. “The Rules of War” is a commentary on the absurdity of making “rules” for war and on the “rulemakers” who do so with lines on how to keep the war going. The chorus, on the other hand, states commands to those affected by war – “Don’t you dare despair/When you ponder why? The War will never die/Because the War will never die.”

In the bizarrely weird “Dream Song,” Wolfe sees himself as the wind, the light, and the truth. When he awakes, there’s no more wing or light, but somehow, in the end, it is all true. The heartfelt, piano and accordion-driven “Crooked Roads,” an ode to his wife, was written the night before his wife went in for a brain procedure. He sings as if he fears the worst outcome. Fortunately, she came through positively. Wolfe invokes the water sign Cancer, via a mournful ocean in the spacey “Ascetic Sleep Song No.4,” about depression. Guest Zachary Douglas on trumpet adds color here on the two following tracks. “Sphere Shift” is a cosmic instrumental that leads into the deeply emotive, minutely detailed “Rushing Back,” about a friend who passed away, woven with piano, clarinet, and trumpet.

The waltz-on-steroids “One Million Children” assails genocide, where children have no say in the world they are born into. The imagery-rich, self-effacing “The Last King of the Blues” depicts a mythical character that could well be the Mississippian himself, Wolfe. The gospel-funk chant “Forgive Yourself” is described as a personal mantra, but is universally relatable.

The swaying dirge “Winter Comes for Mary” is for Mary Sack and others who have left us too soon, played only by Wolfe on guitar and Echevaria on accordion. The closer, “Invocation,” purposely enlists an array of instruments, ranging from bouzouki to reeds and the Indian string instrument, tanpura, to create waves of vibration as a prayer to music and a warning to those who cease playing it.

The album requires several listens (lyrics will be available on Wolfe’s website), yet the overall moodiness seeps in deeply and lingers well beyond any one song. By far, Ophiuchus is Wolfe’s most definitive statement to date.