The first time Wet Leg played Washington, DC, they were the new shiny object in the toy store. It was March, 2022, and their debut single “Chaise Longue” was taking the Alt and Indie charts by storm. The Isle of Wight band sold out DC’s 250-capacity DC9 in minutes.
“Chaise Longue” and the self-titled debut album would take home two alternative music Grammys. The original duo – front woman Rhian Teasdale and guitarist/keyboardist Hester Chambers - would expand the band to its current five members. And earlier this year, they would release the follow-up to Wet Leg. Moisturizer’s lead single, “Catch These Fists” has landed in the top ten on three separate U.S. Billboard charts.
Now, they have moved around the corner from the smaller DC9 to Washington’s iconic 9:30 Club, capacity 1,200. Once again, they sold out in minutes.
Wet Leg brings their unique brand of post power punk to Washington, DC
I just made up that “post power punk” name. I don’t think it’s really a thing. I realized this was a problem when a friend who had never heard the band asked me to describe their music, and I kind of drew a blank. That’s a bad place to be if you’re writing a review of their show. Hence the awkward triple P.
So now the way I describe them to newcomers is like this: Musically, they bare a fleeting resemblance to those indie pop originals, the B52s. But spiritually, this is the Athens band from the ‘80s, with a brand built on dancing and having fun, all delivered with a quirky sense of art school humor that makes any note, rhythm or lyric fair game for experiment.
And they do it with a overwhelming attack of guitars and synths, along with a pummeling rhythm section. They are simultaneously cute and sledgehammer powerful. If high-energy deadpan were a genre, Wet Leg would be its Beatles.
They exploded out of the gate on Friday night at 9:30 with “Catch These Fists.” Teasdale, in a white halter, matching shorts and boots, struck muscle poses throughout as she sang. Truth is, she didn’t have to sing, since all 1,200 fans were singing note for note along with her. That merged into “Wet Dream,” one of the catchier numbers from the debut. And again, the audience sang every note.
That began a mini-run of songs from the debut album. The nineteen song set eventually hit almost everything the band has released up to now. On some of the newer, non-singles from Moisturizer, the audience did not necessarily know every word. Didn’t want you to think we were all overly obsessed.
Teasdale has natural lead singer charisma but she is not especially comfortable bantering with the crowd. And Chambers is positively shy onstage, playing a good part of the time hidden next to the drums toward the back of the stage facing away from the crowd.
That leaves what talk there is to guitarist Josh Mobaraki and bass player Ellis Durand. They would occasionally encourage the crowd or give an update on how many more songs remained in the set. About midway through, when they came to “Ur Mum,” an angry earworm about a breakup, Mobaraki prepped the crowd for the cathartic group primal scream that would close the song.
Since “Ur Mum” is among the most melodious tunes Wet Leg has, it makes a Bizzaro World kind of sense to interrupt the proceedings with that raw burst of unbridled aggression. Not surprisingly, everyone knew the words to the scream, too.
From a hulking “tambourine guru” who appeared for “Don’t Speak” to the double dose of dream pop – “Davina McCall” and “11:21,” Wet Leg remains consistently unpredictable.
Or maybe not. After “11:21,” they roared through the remainder of their set with seven straight-up bangers. Beginning with “Pillow Talk,” as hard as they are apt to get with its blunt pronouncement of sexual desire, to set closer “CPR,” Wet Leg’s three-guitar, double-keyboard attack never lets up.
“Chaise Longue” shows up in all its glory two songs before the end, with the crowd now taking over for Chambers in asking “What?” to Teasdale’s “Excuse me,” and the singer tacking a tiny “C” onto the end of the line “I got the big D,” in honor of the her host city.
Wet Leg pulls out all the stops. Teasdale dances. Mobaraki leaps from guitar to keyboard. Durand tosses out between-song banter and drummer Henry Holmes menaces his kit from the rear. Chambers, though she mostly stays withdrawn, steps forward every few songs to dance and play back-to-back with Teasdale.
There are bubble machines, fans and smoke combined with sudden blasts of strobe lights throughout, keeping the stage an evolving mystery – the kind of place where Bigfoot might step out with a tambourine at the most unexpected of times.
Wet Leg is in the middle of a major North American tour that has them horseshoing from the northwest to the east coast and then back to SoCal for the conclusion in mid-October.
They are supported by London-based trio Mary in the Junkyard, a promising young band who are at their best when Saya Barbaglia puts down her guitar and picks up her viola, as she does on the manic “Goop” and on their new single “New Muscles.” Singer-guitarist Clari Freeman-Taylor at times has trouble getting her quavering, delicate voice to elevate above the noise the band is creating.
I would think spending a couple of months on the road with Wet Leg and Rhian Teasdale would be an excellent crash course in balancing indie quirk with powerhouse rock and roll.