The English indie rockers are back and as irreverent and pop culturally inclined as ever with their sophomore effort.
The dog days of July are damp, moist, even—from an ever-present sheen of sweat you wear moments after stepping outside, the condensation dripping from your handy beer, and the sunscreen and tanning oils you dollop and spread on your beach body. But can a brash, zesty punk-pop-rock also lubricate your summer? Wet Leg is here to test that theory. The English indie iconoclasts are back and vying for the album of the summer throne with sophomore record, moisturizer (out July 11th on Domino Records), an irreverent and nakedly vulnerable take on the tense, preening, despairing nature of love and all its horniness, hormones, and hand-wringing.
Summer is a perfect time for love, and love walks hand-in-hand with danger; Wet Leg knows this. On opener track “CPR,” vulnerability can be deadly; frontwoman Rhian Teasdale ponders if her new paramour is love or suicide over Hester Chambers’s villainous, syncopated guitar riff, recalling No Doubt’s 2001 hit “Hella Good.” This love-as-chaos motif threads throughout; on “pillow talk,” Teasdale compares her lover to Calamity Jane and brags about making them “as wet as an aquarium.” She delivers this clever ribaldry with the same devil-may-care coolness that helped carve their niche with their self-titled debut.
Like a velvet-edged knife, Teasdale sings her truth with an often serrated, slick cadence that belies the emotional depth of the lyrics. On brief, softer moments, these emotions shine through, manifesting most achingly on the penultimate track, “11:21,” slowing the tempo as Teasdale nocturnally pines for an unrequited love.
Like their instantly iconic Mean Girls reference on 2022’s “Chaise Longue,” moisturizer is chock-full of pop culture for the more discerning, terminally online listener. On breezy love ode “davina mccall,” Teasdale continues her teasing roleplay, promising to be Shakira, tender and reliable “whenever, wherever.” She then sings “I’ll be Needy for you” on “jennifer’s body,” a namesake reference to the 2009 Diablo Cody-penned sapphic horror starring Megan Fox and Amanda Seyfried.
But it isn’t all roses, orgasms, and butterflies; lead single “catch these fists” gives fair warning to men who try their ill-timed pick-ups when Teasdale just wants to dance with her friends. One cannot help but think of the cocky, man-eating antics of another 2009 musical touchstone: “Blah Blah Blah” from fellow brazen songstress Kesha during her dollar-sign moniker days.
While 2022’s Wet Leg cocked the water gun, moisturizer pulls the trigger. Like a passenger seat lover on a sunset drive from the Isle of Wight to Tokyo, the group takes us on a bawdy, playful ride, crafting a cohesive record as slick as that summer sheen and deserving of the crown.
Home page image Wet Leg by Alice Backham. Inside image left to right, Rhian Louise Teasdale and Hester Chambers of Wet Leg by Iris Luz. Images courtesy of Domino Records.
