Wet Leg return to Seattle with Moisturizer tour
Indie sensations Wet Leg began their North American tour with two nights at Seattle‘s Paramount Theater, in tandem with their sophomore release, Moisturizer. The last time we saw the British rock band was their Seattle debut in 2022 at the Crocodile (see our review). Since, they’ve risen to their speculated potential, appearing on festival bills for Austin City Limits, Life is Beautiful, Outside Lands, Lollapalooza and Isle of Wight Fests. Original members Rhian Teasdale and Hester Chambers connected via Platform One College of Music based in Isle of Wight.
This time around Wet Leg has received many critiques amongst the genre, which can be the ultimate mark of success within the indie rock world. They’ve used their so called “5 mins of fame” to reinvent themselves in terms of style and sound, but especially style. They’re not only holding our attention but seemingly evolving before our eyes. In the beginning, they gave an uncomplicated, bubble gum type carelessness with something underneath I’ve been waiting for them to unveil. Critiques of Wet Leg intrigue me because of the clear connections to the indie scene I grew up in and hold so dearly to my heart. This time around I hear evidence of nostalgia moodiness of Arctic Monkeys‘ Suck It and See. Not shocking as they belong to the same production label.
While investigating the vibe of the attendees, I quickly pick up on the fact that it will be one of those shows. I spotted a limited-edition Oasis rugby shirt, Kurt Cobain/grunge inspired aesthetics, 1980s era gym wear, mullets and porn staches. This is definitely a show I would have bragged about in my teen years. That considered, this community can be such weirdos about others mobilizing through the crowd to the stage. They hate it, they hate you, they’re annoyed you didn’t arrive two hours before doors open to hold a spot like they did. Hipster pretension that gets old fast. Pretentious or not, Seattle can have good taste. While I pick up on these small identifiers, ultimately there are no patterns in attendees. The equal ratio of young/old tell us how far Wet Leg has stretched themselves since their first debut.
In terms of style, front woman Rhian has blossomed into her own courtesy of a queer awakening. Style: extending on Amy Taylor‘s emulation of feminine duality, Rhian adds her own off beat-broken-down-doll beautiful to the mix. She strikes a pose curling her biceps, hair blowing in the wind, holding a stern look with a stiff upper lip. We’re seeing more outward expression than I remember from her: reverse ombre, bleached brows, with a shirt I Love Incels doodled on. The stage itself was no frills, she herself is the frill.
Rhian‘s vocal range stretches further on ballad “11:21“, strokesy rhythmic guitar on “Jennifer’s Body” and Casablanca’s vocalizations. A very established, classic template for the genre that pulls me towards that era that I love so, so much. I also feel those guitar influences featured on endearingly sweet tracks like “Don’t Speak,” which contrasts an honest raunchiness “Every Night I F*ck My Pillow, I wish I was f*cking you; Take me shopping, buy me a rabbit.”
On one of my favorite tracks “u and me at home,” the guitars independently draw away from melodies to feed back into the chorus to simulate a type of auditory union that you can feel swell up inside you. There isn’t this cookie cutter haze over the contents of the lyrics and doesn’t feel like performative inclusion. Openly queer love songs are in lacking in this area of the music community. I’m ecstatic that they took this creative direction.
Wet Leg is easy listening if that’s what you’re looking for but if you stay a little longer you can find something else. Their last Seattle show was one of my first reviews I wrote, make sure you check it out on our website!
Notable Tracks: u and me at home, Pillow Talk, Jennifer’s Body, Catch These Fists, Angelica
Photos: Eric Tra @erictra