Album Review: Wet Leg - Moisturizer

Wet Leg's album Moisturizer is an interesting, yet slightly frustrating listen.

Moisturizer is as rewarding as it is frustrating. Half of the tracks dotted about present a really great new direction for the band that shook the indie scene with their debut in 2022. The other half of the track listing is disappointingly by-the-numbers and generic. Both halves are shuffled together to make a fairly one-note listen with glimpses of greatness.

Four years after the Isle-of-Wight duo Rhian Teasdale and Hester Chambers crash-landed onto the indie scene with their cheeky self-titled debut, they return with Moisturizer which swaps their trademark back-and-forth charm for an expanded reinvention of their sound. Joining them on this romp are guitarist Josh Mobaraki, bass guitarist Ellis Durand and drummer Henry Holmes. Wet Leg switch up their identity by opening up the songwriting credits to the whole band. For instance, the fifth track ‘jennifer’s body’ is even accredited to the entire band, however it doesn’t hold a candle to the Hole song of the same name. The riff is repetitive and the lyrics recount the same ‘night to remember’ story that every chart-topping pop artist is wailing on about.

There lies the case-in-point. The lyrics on this album are mostly very bland and predictable. Gone is the fun, referential word-play from the debut and, instead, the band settles into monotony that comes off as generic ‘post-modern’ pop with electric guitars to boot. That said, there’s still moments of 90s haze and slacker humour to be found within this assorted bag of Skittles. For instance, in their ode to ‘davina mccall’ Rhian Teasdale bluntly states her preference for Ribena over Coca-Cola which comes as a humorous lyrical surprise in its off-the-wall specificity. This preference for Ribena over Coca Cola could also be said for the album’s sound. The production here is beefier, syrupy, and full bodied as opposed to the spiky sugar-rush sound of their debut.

The thick, wall-of-sound, fullness of Dan Carey’s production suits the band just as it suited the other modern indie darlings that he’s worked with. The loud sonic scale of his work with Black Midi and the radio-friendly pop-rock heard on his production for Fontaines D.C. is used to great effect to capture the liveliness of Wet Leg. If there’s one thing I can say for sure about this album it’s that these recordings capture the band all having a really, really good time.

The album hits the ground running with ‘CPR’ which is a really solid single to lead the overall track-list. Sirens wail and the kick drum pounds away to give the track an upbeat yet visceral groove. Things then move on the ‘Liquidize’ which features a chord progression very much in line with the Pixies and lyrically references Elliott Smith’s ‘The Biggest Lie’. It’s a very all-out 90s indie track with a chugging acoustic guitar and melodic bass line. From this point, I was absolutely hooked and thought that I had missed out by letting this pass me by in the summer of 2025.

But then I remembered what had put me off this album in the first place - the other singles. I recalled how they inundated every 6 Music Radio show. ‘CPR’ is a great tune but ‘catch these fists’, ‘mangetout’, and even ‘davina mccall’ were either annoyingly repetitive or failed to leave a lasting impression.

The second side holds a bit more variety. On Moisturizer, Wet Leg prove that they are actually far more interesting when they’re not trying to be catchy or gimmicky. Side B picks up where it left off with ‘Pond Song’ which sounds remarkably similar to the opener ‘CPR’ except that this time around the lyrics are a poetic and engrossing tale of star-crossed love which keeps the track fresh. Hester Chambers showcases a lyrical sincerity that we haven’t yet seen blossom from the group and it’s certainly the most notable step-forward on this sophomore effort. Chambers also pens the album’s standout ‘Don’t Speak’ which has thick and rugged electric guitars shoe-gaze swooping their tremolo arms in the chorus as well as straight-forward yet candid lines such as:

‘I've seen your dark sides and you've seen mine. Somehow, though, you don't seem to mind, Neither do I’

Side B also shows that Wet Leg aren’t afraid to take some left turns. For instance, the dreamy ‘Pokémon’ is a neon-drenched Tokyo skyline with cozy synths and bubbly vocals; a sound unexplored by the group thus far. This much-needed stylistic switch-up helps the album’s latter half feel better paced than side A and things close off with the all-together-now singalong ‘u and me at home’. Its an incredibly heartwarming closer and another album highlight. Instead of injecting satire into her lyrics through cultural references, Rhian Teasdale allows herself to satirise her own experience with her best stanza so far:

‘Maybe we could start a band as some kinda joke
"Well, that didn't quite go to plan," I say on the radio
Now, we've been stretched across the world, over land and sea
And there's this big elastic band that pulls you back to me.’

If Moisturizer tells us anything, it’s that Wet Leg are moving on and growing up. The album contains some of the band’s most well-rounded material yet. Yet, a radio-friendly indie-rock homogeneity plagues some of the album’s tracks (its worst offender being ‘Mangetout’) which results in an album that takes two steps forward; and one step back. Moisturizer is the product of a band on the cusp of finding their own sound. Hopefully, they all hop on board and catch that wave on the next album.