WET LEG’S MOISTURIZER CURED MY ECZEMA
Somewhere in the soda pop chapstick section of a shopping mart off the coast of the Isle of Wight, somewhere in between the shadows of laughing fits and slumber party mysteries, lies the UK-based band Wet Leg. Their 2022 debut album of the same name made a meteoric landing into the headphones of alternative pop/rock aficionados across the globe, myself included. With the infectious first single “Chaise Longue,” the duo had me possessed by an indie groove that beckons the limbs to jig among the hills. The artwork for the Grammy award-winning album depicts band's founders Rhian Teasdale and Hester Chambers embraced in a hug, facing a corner away from the camera, their hair obscuring any hints of the conversations, emotions, or secrets between them. All those hallmarks of a platonic connection are reserved for the album. A gleaming look into the blaze of turbulent young adulthood, I eagerly returned to it in anticipation of their next project.
In the words of the band's Instagram post made in March of this year, “We’re so back.” The duo turned five-piece with the addition of long-time tour partners Henry Holmes, Ellis Durand, and Josh Mobaraki, then dropped their newest album’s first single, "catch these fists." A spunky rock track in which the band makes it clear that any unwanted advances, on or off stage, warrant a figurative pummeling to oblivion. With a stripped-down verse and pre-chorus, the kick drum drudges away like a boxer’s heartbeat, a countdown to the fight of the century. Spoiler alert—this track is my favorite on the album. A heated and biting return for the band, it was accompanied by the release date of their second album, moisturizer, on July 11th of this year.
moisturizer's cover shows Teasdale and Chambers once again in the corner, this time it is daylit, the carpeting and curtains visible. Teasdale faces the camera in a low crouch with a devilish smile, her pink gradient hair cascading, almost meeting with her “I heart me” knee-high socks. Chambers faces the corner in an intense self-hug. Both have claw-like acrylics adorned on their hands. It’s primal, wild, and most importantly, weird. My hope was that this mirrored the eccentric energy of the album, and I was not disappointed.
TRACK 1 — CPR
The opening track served as the second single and set the stage. The beginning is the laid-back feeling of convertible wind before building into a fizzy explosion of love confessions. The phone conversation between the supposed victim and a 999 operator is the highlight precursor to the burst of wavy guitar with wailing accompaniment in the second half. Right off the bat, we’re placed in the inherent romance of the album, “Is it love or suicide?” the pre-chorus repeats. The song frames the fierce vulnerability of love as something recklessly life-threatening. Yet an underlying whirl of excitement remains, appreciation for the adrenaline gained no matter the consequences.
TRACK 2 — Liquidize
The upbeat and carefree love song that is the second track reminds me of the merry-go-round. Looping charged guitar riffs and heavy drums under the clouds with sweet talk lyrics. “Be your marshmallow worm?” Whether it's a reference or a genuine term of endearment, it evokes something wholesome and childlike. The narrator laments being down bad, but the overall energy remains blithesome. Bringing it back in a loop, it starts and ends the same with “Love struck me down. The fuck am I doing?” The cohesion is clear, as I still want to spin in the hills during this one.
TRACK 3 — Catch These Fists
This track was the amped up, grubby return I was hoping for from Wet Leg. The gnarly intro guitar riff that repeats throughout is an earworm that gets my muscles itching for a punch. The dynamic drumming really shines here, the precision of the cymbals and hi-hats is ear-catching, and the reliance on punk-like drum pockets is not a downside. Halfway through, and I was already planning a Helly R. Severance edit to the track. The kiss of knuckle to the chin of a pushy bar sleaze is the imagery this song conjures, which is perfectly in line with interviews from writers Teasdale and Durand regarding the subject. “This song is about the recurring real-life nightmare of just people invading your space,” Teasdale told BBC Radio 1. My bruised fists confirm this as a success.
TRACK 4 — Davina Mccall
Another cool breeze and warm romance song as a recess from last night's bar fight. Sappy and light, there’s admirable sunshine beauty in the queer love Teasdale sings of here. “You’re my sweet baby angel.” The soft rock and restrained guitar pulse carry the listener across the pond. An Oreo milkshake in the heat, sand-filled toes by the sea, the yellow glow of popsicles in a dream, I couldn’t make out all the lyrics, and I didn’t care. Titled after the big brother host with the catchphrase “I’m coming to get you!” Some lyrics gave me the slightest tinge of pause, a hint of codependency perhaps. “You know I would hold you tighter than a python.” I needed the context of the rest of the album to know for sure, but the irony of the next song title was not lost on me.
TRACK 5 — Jennifer’s Body
On the surface, the movie Jennifer’s Body seems like a typical teen slasher with the added subversion of male victims and girl protagonists. Those with access to the sacred texts (which I made up for this review) know that it, in actuality, dissects the obsessive homoerotic best friendship between one or more sapphic girls in high school. It is a GSA kid canon event. Perhaps Wet Leg knows this and employs the reference in this track about the moment one confesses to their crush. My favorite lyric, “You’re giving Jennifer’s Body, I’ll be needy for you,” uses the double entendre of the character Anita, who goes by Needy, and the neediness the narrator feels for the one they love. They’re so overfilled with emotion that they confess randomly, “From out of nowhere I just went and told you.” I find comfort in the second run of the chorus that's quieter and gutted, as if the seriousness of the moment is starting to dawn on them. Like Jennifer, who can’t stop killing, the narrator can’t ignore the rising feeling of love. While I don't dislike it, I do feel it is overshadowed by other tracks.
TRACK 6 — Mangetout
This track is the spiritual successor to "catch these fists." Again, an insufferable force stands in the way of the band and a good time; they fly by in response, shouting, “Wouldn’t want to be ya!” At this point in the album, I’m certain they have nailed the build-up and payoff. The second half of almost all the tracks has an opening up of fun weirdness summoning the urge to jump around. Performance-wise, this song could be the more reserved sister to “Supermarket” off their previous album. I love the ending chorus so much, I wish it came sooner, and we got more of the gratifying, messy yelling. The positives of how this will transfer live are clear, and those who’ve seen the NPR Tiny Desk show that dropped on the 10th will understand this. “Get lost forever!” is getting added to my lexicon.
TRACK 7 — Pond Song
This hard rock track was written by Chambers and follows the themes of romance, repeating the messaging of previous songs, “I’ve never been so deep in love.” The split guitar riffs in each headphone are one of my favorite parts, a galvanizing surprise the first time. Chambers and Teasdale’s vocals phase in between each other in a pretty and satisfying way. I’ll admit, I was bored at first, but the second half of the song once again socked me in the jugular. The abrasive layering of the guitars and insistent bass line made me want to vibrate outside in a storm. Comparing love to divinity itself, the loverboy joy of this album is unmistakable.
TRACK 8 — Pokemon
Bubbly, airy, and certainly leaning more into pop than the other tracks, this upbeat love song is simply exquisite. Hair blowing through the wind on a drive, this much is obvious through the production even without the chorus saying, “You want to go for a drive?” It's both to enhance the romance and to reinforce the second line, “I don’t want to take it slow.” The narrator wants to speed through this drive and the connection of the relationship. Past the warnings of puppy love and into bold, lasting attachment. My favorite part is the synth and guitar arpeggios at the bridge that repeat, “All on our own.” It's catchy and flows with delight before the denotation of meadow flowers and grenadine that is the last chorus.
TRACK 9 — Pillow Talk
Immediately, the intense drum intro drops the listener into a gritty track akin to noise rock. I was obsessed. Pillow talk references intimate conversations couples have in bed. The lyrics imply the narrator is missing their lover and using the pillow as a substitute, a subversion. The desire is salivating and animalistic in this plucky track. The brazen bass is the real star of the show, giving the grinding guitar legs to stand on throughout the song. I felt hints of separation anxiety themes, which later track, "11:21" seems to confirm. This one will live on repeat, I fear.
TRACK 10 — Don’t Speak
Despite having similar heavy, coarse guitar and The Strokes-inspired production, the writing and vocal style of Chambers is more delicate, almost reserved. In this lovey-dovey track, she expresses a love so deep it's beyond words. Glances and subtle exchanges are all that’s needed to be understood; the softness of her vocals reinforces this. “I can say I love you just by looking in your eyes.” A pastel lilac sunset with a person who's seen every version of you yet loves you tightly anyway. The listener doesn’t need to catch every word to know about the kind of love she's describing. I appreciate how different it sounds, not in style but in execution, from the rest of the album. At the same time, I feel other tracks accomplished this better.
TRACK 11 — 11:21
The only track to start with synthy bells, this one drags like the emotions it draws on, in a good way. There’s the inkling of a blurry goth feel underneath the shimmering keyboard as the bass moves the song along like deadweight. “If I just hang around here, promise me you will return,” the narrator’s requiem over a subject, possibly a lover, whom they miss dearly. The imagery of the sorrow going against the laws of nature itself, birds falling from the sky, the moon forgetting to shine, all are indicators of the deep anguish they feel at being apart. Is it healthy to let someone's presence dictate how dejected one feels? Wet Leg leaves this to the listener to answer. On a lover's day, I might say it's normal yearning in its most desolate form. On a hater day, I’d say this contributes to the sprinkles of codependency throughout the album and take it as a lesson in individualizing in every relationship. Currently, I’ll go with the latter.
TRACK 12 — U and Me at Home
A strong yet mellow conclusion, this has all the strengths of the album. A rejoice over the domesticity of a relationship, the narrator is comforted by a partner who, “Knows just what to say.” The chanting nature of the chorus is pleasing to me and my homegirls. The guitar solo with the hooting and hollering of the last chorus earned a bedroom applause from me. Something about gritty build-ups and pay-offs scratches a musical itch for me, and Wet Leg manages to pull it off while maintaining some playfulness. It grew on me with each listen.
Conclusion
A triumphant return to the grooving grass of the Isle of Wight, Wet Leg produced something fresh and romantic in their time away. It felt relieved of the pressure of being exactly like their debut and showed some moxy in its exploration of different rock sonically while painting a more personal picture in its lyricism. I prefer Wet Leg to moisturizer, but suspect it needs some time to simmer in my system before I make any finalized opinions. Their debut set a high bar of captivating indie angst on the seaside that moisturizer augments but may not fully surpass. Regardless, I thoroughly enjoyed myself, and can confidently say I recommend it to eczema sufferers everywhere.