Review: Wet Leg - Wet Leg
Wet Leg
Wet Leg
The buzziest and busiest duo of 2022 release their highly anticipated debut album. A solid collection of enjoyable and catchy indie anthems.
It is hard to grasp the pressure Isle of Wight duo Wet Leg must be under at the moment. Debut single ‘Chaise Longue’ exploded upon release last year. Suddenly, Rhian Teasdale and Hester Chamber went from creating fun and almost nonsensical indie rock songs together to having the ears of the world on them.
Despite only a handful of singles to their name, they were awash with accolades pouring in from rock royalty. Dave Grohl notably described the track as “fun and fresh” as he recalled, “nights when we just play that song on repeat”.
Whilst the acclaim has been swift, so has the backlash. There have been numerous cries of industry plants thrown at the duo. Something that a quick bit of research is easily able to dispute (the band were notably active years before being signed by Domino). There is a tinge of edginess in some of the criticism surrounding the duo, finding it cool to hate on their rapid hype. Regardless, even the most fervent Wet Leg supporter could be forgiven for doubting how the pair could follow up the song of 2021. Therefore, unsurprisingly the buzz around the record has been inescapable, with live tickets to see the pair equating to gold dust.
No matter where you stand on the great Wet Leg debate, you’ll undoubtedly find their debut album frequently places a smile on your across its brisk and breathless 35-minute runtime. That is, in part, due to the thin line the pair straddle with their lyrics, between witty and grating. For every deadpan ‘Chaise Longue’-ism such as ‘Is your muffin buttered?’ there is the ‘your so woke, diet coke’ from ‘Oh No’ or ‘Angelica bought lasagne to the party’ from the predictably titled ‘Angelica’.
Whilst ‘Chaise Longue’ makes its appearance early on, to reassure any listeners worried the pair were simply a one-hit-wonder, it’s just the first of many highlights. ‘Wet Dream’ is utterly delightful from its countdown intro to its damming description of Teasdale’s salacious ex-partner. Whilst based on sexually explicit subject matter, the pair was right to call out the misogyny in how a male hip-hop artist would not have faced criticism or comments if they were to write such a song. Regardless, it’s an incredibly fun song and arguably features the best melody on the record.
A large amount of the record has been released over the months leading up to the album, meaning there are only a few surprises tucked away. Despite this, ‘Supermarket’, feels like the hidden gem of the bunch. A slow-burning rock track that feels as if it was created amid a pot-induced haze. ‘Too Late Now’ meanwhile, is captivating due to Teasdale’s defiant spoken-word monologue, one that is reminiscent of Self Esteem’s very own ‘I Do This All The Time’. Likewise, it feels destined to be a brilliant live moment. The record also harks back to another indie smash of recent years with the gleeful, scream-filled ending to ‘Ur Mum’ echoing Phoebe Bridgers’ apocalyptic ‘I Know The End’ climax. Hopefully, this is indicative of a glorious new trend in alternative music.
Whilst an enjoyable and solid record, it is by no means the genre-defining debut it was proclaimed by some to be. This is due to a noticeable dip early on. When the group lean into experimenting with a more psychedelic and progressive sound on tracks such as ‘I Don’t Wanna Go Out’ and ‘Loving You’, the album meanders. As a result of taking themselves too seriously, they sacrifice their genius trademark punchiness for a sense of profoundness that never really hits its mark. It is also a shame that ‘Complicated’, the only track Chambers takes lead vocals on, also feels forgettable in the albums' middle dip.
That is not to say a slower tempo always equates to a drop in quality. ‘Piece of Shit’ is the perfect balance of a reflective melancholic melody and tongue in cheek lyricism. Teasdale parallels Joni Mitchell on the Punk-Folk acoustic ballad. The lament of the self-proclaimed ‘good guy’ is full of smart and snappy retorts. “Well if you were better to me then maybe I would consider fucking you goodbye” is a personal favourite.
While Wet Leg’s solid self-titled debut will not live on in history as a seminal landmark of the alternative genre akin to The Strokes ‘This Is It’ or label-mates Arctic Monkey’s ‘Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not’. There will still be instances, decades from now, where people cherry-pick incredible moments from the album to send festival and club crowds into a nostalgic hysteria.