Wet Leg

• Wet Leg [Domino, 2022] A
• Moisturizer [Domino, 2025] A−

Consumer Guide Reviews:

Wet Leg [Domino, 2022]
Not only am I taken with this Isle of Wight indie-femme duo like the rest of the world, I think it's perverse not to be. Less simple and crystalline than initial appearances suggest, their pop sopranos do occasionally swallow syllables, garble lyrics, ask what that means, and sneak in the occasional absurdity. Nor does the crack all-male backup three-piece that renders Wet Leg in point of fact a conventionally structured rock quintet let their precision get in the way of big noise or the occasional bracing distortion. And waiting in the wings is Rhian Teasdale's "longest and loudest scream," as well as occasional patches of convincing Inspirational Verse, such as: "I used to want to love you like you wanted me to/Now I wanna hate you like I tell you I do." A

Moisturizer [Domino, 2025]
"You wanna fuck me, I know, most people do," brags and/or murmurs LBGTQ bandleader/ingenue Rhian Teasdale to a present/prospective inamorata on a love album where affection is unmistakable, passion explicit, and pleasure guaranteed. That's how eros is supposed to work, right? To reduce half-an-hour of it to soft, lyrical pop-rock is an aesthetic triumph all the more impressive because it never sounds like it's trying too hard. A−