Contact: Annie Gott Annie@theoriel.co
Website: wetlegband.com
Players: Rhian Teasdale, lead vocals, guitar; Hester Chambers, vocals, guitar; Josh Mobaraki, guitar, keyboards; Ellis Durand, bass; Henry Holmes, drums.
Armed with wry, witty musicality delivered with a powerfully elusive sleight of hand, Isle of Wight wunderkinds Wet Leg nonchalantly loped into worldwide prominence with their 2022 self-titled debut release of idiosyncratic indie-rock. Initially winning hearts as a duo—with Rhian Teasdale and Hester Chambers leading the charge—they served songs laced with vibrant guitars and cunning lyrics, delivered with taciturn winks and angel of death-like charm. They’ve since evolved, bringing bandmates Josh Mobaraki, Ellis Durand, and Henry Holmes further into the fold.
Now, after a nearly three-year hiatus from the algorithmic airspace, the GRAMMY Award-winning band has returned with their highly anticipated sophomore release, Moisturizer—a collection still steeped with lyrical mischief and addictive melodies, but also slyly sliding into multi-textured sonic territory set alongside sprechgesang clapback tracks and lovelorn Poe-like poetic prose. Ready to let loose, the ultra-cool quintet launched their North American tour with poised ferocity from Seattle with two sold-out shows at the Paramount Theatre.
From the start, Wet Leg’s sound exploration was palpable during their second Paramount performance. As the lights dropped, a subtle spectral siren call beckoned the band from the dark recesses of the stage. In a full-stop switch-up, a smattering of creamsicle-sanguine strobes scorched the eyes as the angular guitar and rolling bassline of “catch these fists,” the first single off Moisturizer, seared into the ears of the at-capacity crowd. Visuals completed the transformation, with lead vocalist Rhian Teasdale flexing full force in a T-shirt emblazoned with the phrase, “Follow Me! I’m a cult leader.”
Indeed, the enraptured audience did—singing along word for word during the playful live rendition of “Wet Dream,” with one superfan going so far as to don a pair of lobster claws. The act was seemingly an appropriate homage to the band’s offbeat video for the track, where pastoral prettiness is met with crustacean surrealism, a subtle nod to Salvador Dali’s phantasmic “Dream of Venus” installation.
Audience participation proved to be a mainstay throughout the night. The band’s celebrated acerbic anthem “Ur Mum” had the entire venue erupt as one, giving a “longest and loudest scream” that lasted at least 30 seconds, if not more. Meanwhile, the sweet-sounding “Angelica” sparked a spontaneous mid-song clap-along with Wet Leg taking notice, leaning into it, putting their hands in the air in full support of the antics.
In-house music lovers proved their complete Wet Leg devotion by immersing themselves just as enthusiastically in the band’s new material. The punk-ish “pillow talk” had fans headbanging through the breakdowns, while the tender ‘hopelessly devoted to you’ styled “davina mccall” brought several couples together swaying alongside one another during the sentimental serenade.
Wet Leg closed out the night with a dose of both the beloved and brand new. Concertgoers threw themselves into the effervescent “Chaise Longue,” answering the dryly delivered pre-chorus call—“Excuse me?”—with a resounding full-venue response: “WHAT!” The band’s breakthrough hit gave way to a final pair of fresh tracks. The clever, wordplay-rich “mangetout,” followed by the emotionally charged love or suicide cries in “CPR,” made complete with a well-staged red phone for Teasdale to dial “999” (U.K.’s 911) in hopes of preventing a future emotional love bomb emergency.
This final trifecta of songs served as a fitting send-off to a night filled with cheeky provocation and heartfelt fun. Moreover, being musical ‘cult leaders,’ Wet Leg understands that a dying cult is a dangerous one. Good thing they’ve created music that will never die, only level up.
Set list:
catch these fists
Wet Dream
Too Late Now
Being in Love
liquidize
jennifer's body
Supermarket
Ur Mum
Oh No
davina mccall
don't speak
pillow talk
pond song
Angelica
u and me at home
Chaise Longue
mangetout
CPR
Photos by Megan Perry Moore
