Wet Leg – moisturizer (Domino) (13th Floor Album Review)
On their 2022 debut, Wet Leg made a splash with slacker wit, post-punk cool, and a deadpan sense of fun. With moisturizer, Rhian Teasdale and Hester Chambers return, but this time, the songs are about love, and Wet Leg now sound like a tight, fully formed band.
The result is a solid, if occasionally uneven, follow-up that expands their sonic and emotional palette while retaining their mischievous spark.
Gone is the arch aloofness of Chaise longue or Too Late Mow. In its place: “oh, I’m in love, and you’re to blame,” Teasdale declares on the opener cpr, which builds from soft looping guitar lines into a joyous, chaotic release. It sets the mission statement for the album, which is assertive, emotionally open, and rhythmically confident, and a tone that suits the focus on the all-or-nothing of falling in love. Throughout the album, the lyrics are more affectionate, more grounded in feeling. They are no longer posturing, but still playful, “hold you tighter than python” being a prime example on davina mccall, a song that also name-checks Shakira, declares that if love is a dream then they “don’t want to wake up”, and offers a far more positive view of love than being in love, which opened their debut with a more acidic take on the topic.
Where their debut was mostly written by Teasdale and Chambers, moisturizer brings bassist Ellis Durand and the other band members fully into the songwriting fold. This time, the arrangements are tighter, the dynamics more nuanced, and the rhythm section more assertive, especially on tracks like mangetout and u and me at home, which pulse with indie disco energy.
Produced again by Dan Carey, the album maintains the raw edge of their debut but introduces a broader sonic range. Songs like catch these fists and pillow talk add guitar layers and tempo shifts that are muscular. 11.21, with its late night piano motif and slower gait, hints at emotional exhaustion rather than euphoric release. Meanwhile, liquidize and pond song experiment with atmosphere and texture, showing the band can stretch beyond playful pop punk mould.
That said, the album occasionally loses its urgency. Songs like don’t speak and jennifer’s body feel more skeletal, their ideas less developed, as the energy that fuels the opening tracks begins to flicker rather than blaze. Yet there is enough charm and craft to keep you listening, and the fire returns on the euphoric final track that celebrates domestic contentment: “u and me at home.”
Accompanying the album is a strong suite of related videos that underscore the band’s evolving visual identity. The cpr clip is a one shot joyride through the countryside, with hair-whipping abandon and sunset headbanging. The same car reappears in davina mccall, which reimagines a claymation version of the band in a wooden cabin by a forest, fighting to save birds from a mysterious hiker, while catch these fists sees them playing games outside the same cabin. Across all the visuals, there is a playful surrealism that mirrors the album’s evolution from dry detachment to something more heartfelt, but still a bit weird.
On moisturizer, Wet Leg preserve the wit, charm, and fuzzy guitars that made them stand out while deepening their scope both musically and emotionally. Whilst not a great album, it is cohesive, often euphoric, and full of promise. It shows a band connected, grounded, and hungry to grow.
John Bradbury
moisturizer is in stores Friday, July 11th. moisturizer is available to pre-order on limited edition 3D gatefold cream coloured vinyl w/ signed photo, picture disc vinyl, standard vinyl, cassette, CD and digitally. Pre-order: Wet Leg’s store | Digital
