RVE’s Howlin’ EP Is a Raw and Ethereal Folk Journey Through Inner Darkness and Quiet Resilience
- Victoria Pfeifer

- Aug 20
- 4 min read

Something is haunting, delicate, and quietly powerful about RVE’s debut EP Howlin’. The Argentina-meets-Ireland duo has stepped fully into their sound with this project, blending pixie-like indie folk, melancholy alt pop textures, and emotional storytelling that does not rely on volume or theatrics to leave a mark. Instead, Howlin’ lingers in the air like smoke, drawing you in with its quiet intensity.
Recorded and produced entirely at home, the EP feels deeply personal, like a diary cracked open by accident. Each song carries the weight of unspoken letters, layered with melancholic guitar lines, ambient percussion, understated synths, and the ethereal voice of Rae. Her vocals hover somewhere between reality and daydream, guiding listeners through a soundscape that feels both meditative and charged with emotion. The production, though subtle, adds a sense of intimacy that could only be achieved in a self-made space.
The centerpiece of the EP is the title track “Wolves.” Here, the duo captures the essence of the record: confronting the fears that howl in the silence and choosing to respond instead of retreat. They describe the track as “the moment we hear the wolves of fear and doubt start howling, and we choose to howl back instead of run.” It is an anthem for resilience whispered rather than shouted, and its strength lies in that restraint.
Across the EP, Howlin’ carries a stillness that is never empty. Instead, it feels intentional, as though each song belongs to a ritual of emotional release. The shared tempo and atmosphere unify the record into a singular emotional experience. It is not the kind of music that fades quietly into the background. It demands presence. It asks you to feel, to process, and to sit with yourself.
With its sad folk charm, indie eccentricities, and tender honesty, Howlin’ offers healing for anyone navigating grief, heartbreak, or anxiety. RVE proves that quiet art can still leave a loud impact. Their previous single “Fool” already earned Spotify editorial placement and began building their fanbase across the UK and Ireland. Howlin’ confirms they are an act ready to resonate on a much larger scale.
This is not just a debut. It is a statement of intent, whispered but unforgettable.
"Howlin'" explores vulnerability, grief, and growth. What was the first song that unlocked the concept for the EP, and did you know right away what kind of story you were telling?
I think it all accidentally started with "wolves." That track cracked something open for us. We'd recorded it as a demo, but then Summer consumed us, and we forgot about it. Almost a year later, we opened up the session, and something just clicked—and I was so happy and loved everything about it, which is rare because I am SO critical about everything and sometimes cannot get past things for months, little bits no one would notice. I guess like most artists.
It came from a moment where I couldn't avoid what I was feeling anymore—stuff like guilt, fear, and self-doubt. Writing it felt like I was finally naming something that had been sitting inside me for a long time. After that, the rest of the project just started to unfold on its own. I didn't plan out a storyline or anything, but as each song came, this narrative of vulnerability, loss, and healing started to come through—and that's what ended up shaping the whole EP.
The track "Wolves" is so powerful in how it addresses fear. What are your personal "wolves," and how do you push back when they start to howl?
"Wolves" became a metaphor for fear — not just the fear that creeps in when things go quiet, but the kind that lives inside your patterns. For me, the "wolves" are the silly things I always seem to do in self-sabotage: the things I do even when I know they're hurting me, or the people around me. It's that feeling of being stuck in cycles I feel I know but can't seem to break. The internal voices — anxiety, guilt, the fear of not being enough — tend to get loud in those moments. I've learned not to fight them with force, but to face them with honesty and softness. Writing this song was a way of naming those parts of myself, of learning how to live with them without letting them take over.
You produce and record everything at home — how does that DIY approach shape the intimacy of your sound?
I feel privileged and grateful that we can create music on our own time and in our own space. Being at home, comfortable in familiar surroundings, is a more intimate experience. I suppose it brings a softer feel and sound to the end product. That and I guess we're both a bit old school in taste. We love the rust, the crackle of an old record, ad lib things - those imperfect, unique moments in sound rather than a grand polish.
That said, it's not always easy. Being home can take effort to get into the right headspace. But when things happen organically, when we allow the process to unfold without force, it feels like magic.
There's a meditative, steady tempo across the whole EP. Was that a creative choice or something that just revealed itself naturally during the process?
That's such a cool observation! I love that. A few people have mentioned something similar, but no, it wasn't intentional. It happened naturally based on where my head was at when I wrote the songs. I was honestly going through a lot—struggling and doing a lot of emotional processing and exploring—so the songs all came from that space. The guitar was kind of my comfort and way of soothing myself, so they ended up being quite sad.
Then I met Juani, and once the drums came in, everything shifted. They brought a whole new energy and gave the songs a different feel. A new chapter of exploring!
For listeners who are going through tough emotional seasons, what do you hope they walk away with after listening to this project?
Oh wow, that's a big one! I guess... I hope people feel connected when they hear it. I hope that they don't feel alone, and that it brings them a sense of comfort or an embrace when they are struggling. I hope they love it—and that it soothes them, the way it's soothed me somehow!


