“Cousins of the Antichrist are hiding everywhere, / watching as we let our guard down, / smiling as we heed their lies.” New Slayer album? Nah, it’s Sacramento’s Chelsea Wolfe—an artist who shows surprising range, both lyrically and compositionally. Whether she’s in front of hundreds of drunken fans with her rock band Red Host or performing solo, basking in the glowing red intimacy of the True Love Coffeehouse stage, Wolfe is always locked into the crowd and able to guide us through whatever story she’s trying to tell. Her vocals, starkly contrasted—pained and muted sighs, aching yowls, contemplative hums, soulful falsettos—provide safety from the danger of her story. No matter the venue, Wolfe takes the listener down her cold, dark path, but usually leads us to some sort of clearing—even if it’s just a place to contemplate and to feel out our surroundings for a while. So, yes, she’s like Slayer, but without the stench.