Wolves. Does any other animal have such a profound influence on human imagination and culture? They are close kin to some of our most beloved domestic companions, yet a world apart. They are a source of fear in countless fairy tales and horror stories. So close to our relatively well-understood canine friends, yet so utterly distinct in their society, habits, and essential link to wild places.
Occupying such an outsized space in our dreams, fears and childhood stories, it’s no surprise the wolf also occupies a prominent role in the creation of music. One third century Roman naturalist wrote, based on a fable of a flute player who drove off a pack of wolves with his music, that wolves hate music. But anyone who’s ever heard a pack of wolves howl in harmony at dusk knows that can’t be true. It’s more likely this story stems from the fact wolves are frightened off by human presence and sounds. This principle is still used today in techniques like range riding, guardian dogs and Radio-Activated Guard Boxes to help minimize wolf-livestock conflict.
Fears and prejudices run deep, built into our very language. Lopez writes “[i]n music today a discordant note on the violin is still called a wolf, as are the harsh, howling sounds of some chords on the organ.” But the actual howling of wolves is anything but discordant. It gives us a glimpse of non-human community and communication, a longing for connection and a hint of deep sadness as it resonates through landscapes from which we’ve eradicated wild wolves and all the other wild systems that go along with them.
Songs often cast wolves as villains, or a metaphor for voracious, irrational hunger. But there are a surprising number of songs that make the effort to bring the listener, however abstractly, into the “separate reality” of the wolf. Based on my highly subjective experience listening to and making music since the 1980s, below is a list of lupine compositions that touch on the wolf-human connection, in one way or another.
Grateful Dead, Dire Wolf (1970)
There’s a whole lot to say about the Grateful Dead and their place in American culture. They were at their best, in my view, when Jerry Garcia and Robert Hunter channeled their very particular vision of nineteenth century gamblers and drifters into a sort of alternative history of folk song. “Dire Wolf” is my favorite of those half-remembered dreams of frontier America, where the “600 pounds of sin” wolf is met with an invitation to cards and whiskey and the irresistible singalong plea, “Don’t Murder Me.”
To Garcia and Hunter, the awesome power of the dire wolf is terrifying, but the response isn’t violence. Rather, it is a calm plea for coexistence. The same lesson we try to remember every day in our work at Defenders of Wildlife.
Los Lobos, Will the Wolf Survive (1984)
This song, according to Los Lobos — which translates to ‘The Wolves’ — drummer Louie Pérez, was inspired by a National Geographic article about where habitat remained for wolves to survive. But it’s also a metaphor for the struggles of the band and for Mexican-American cultural survival.
“It was like our group, our story: What is this beast, this animal that the record companies can't figure out? Will we be given the opportunity to make it or not?” Pérez reflected in 1989. “The other verses, and the overall thing, is about trying to sustain something that we all believed in and that we see slipping away,” Pérez continued. “We [Mexican-Americans] saw the importance of preserving our culture, and of passing along the traditions of our fathers. So it's all of that wrapped up into one song.”
I like to listen this song as embodying the resilience not just of Mexican-American culture and a uniquely creative musical ensemble, but also the Mexican gray wolf. This animal has come back from the very brink of extinction and holds on in the southwest thanks to the tireless efforts of conservationists and open-minded ranchers.
Bonnie “Prince” Billy, Wolf Among Wolves (2003)
There are few writers more in touch with the wolf experience than Bonnie “Prince” Billy, the nom de plume of songwriter Will Oldham. Two of his greatest collaborative records are “Superwolf” and “Superwolves” with the extraordinary guitarists Matt Sweeney, and, on the latter, Mdou Moctar. In 2003, he sings “Why can't I be loved as what I am? A wolf among wolves, and not as a man Among men.”
The key to achieving successful coexistence between wolves and rural agricultural operations is not expecting wolves to behave like humans or domestic dogs. We instead must “think like a wolf.” Use what science tells us about wolf cognition, behavior and society to craft coexistence measures in a way wolf packs will actually respond.
TV On the Radio, Wolf Like Me (2006)
This song takes me back to a crowded, sweaty theater in 2006. The packed room sings along at the top of their voices to the outro – “Howling, forever, oh oh.” Insofar as we can parse the lyrics, the song is perhaps more literally a werewolf tale, but the musical experience of the song – Tunde Adebimpe, Kyp Malone and Jaleel Bunton’s unearthly harmonies, its irresistible compulsion to sing along. It is, to me, the perfect evocation of the wolf pack’s nightly communion.
In the interest of space, and because talking about music is a poor substitute for listening to it, I leave you, dear readers, with this instead: a playlist, containing these songs and a few more!
As you listen to each, you may find yourself entering the “separate reality” of the wolf and seeing the beauty these animals are.
Author
Michael Saul
Wildlife & Wild Places
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