What makes Wet Leg stand out – apart from their “controversial” body hair choices, wormy graphics, infectious indie rock, and unabashed display of flesh – is the motley of fans that they’ve accrued. Where many artists have an easily pegged ‘stereotype’ of fans, Wet Leg’s are impossible to pin down – and this is no more apparent than at their live shows. From school-aged fans accompanied by responsible guardians, to university students with brightly dyed hair and an impressive showing of male golden-agers, the band had achieved the rare accomplishment of being truly inter-generational. It’s perhaps this variety in their fanbase that allowed them to make such a stark U-turn between their debut and sophomore records – gone are the innocence-drenched prairie days of supermarket intoxication (‘Supermarket’), daydreaming about love and eating mayonnaise by the spoonful at parties (‘Ur Mum’).
With this new era, Rhian Teesdale stepped forward as the primary front-woman, proudly displaying her sexuality (‘pillow talk’) with gooey affirmations (‘liquidize’), all the while fighting off unwanted advances (‘catch these fists’) and opting for heavier, punk-infused soundscapes (‘CPR’). moisturizer was a bold and plucky departure from their eponymous record, and it’s this album that their current, short-but-sweet Autumn UK tour was championing.
Joining Wet Leg on tour were buoyant Franco-American sibling duo Virgile and Elliot Arndt, known mononymously as Faux Real. Perhaps the answer to Australia’s Confidence Man with their pristine white costumes, carefully coordinated choreography, and infectious pop. And after their collaboration, with Wet Leg remixing their ’80s-inspired, quirky ‘Walking Away From My Demons’, their support slot came as no surprise to fans.
Wet Leg’s emergence onto the stage was aptly teased. With set times promising a prompt nine pm arrival, it wasn’t until after ten minutes of sporadic bursts from on-stage smoke machines, which quickly dissipated before being unleashed yet again, that the original duo, Rhian Teesdale and Hester Chambers, emerged, joined by the now-permanent Ellis Durand, Joshua Mobaraki, and Henry Holmes.
Their transformation and rebrand was overt from the outset, with Teesdale bounding around the stage, pink hair whipping luminescent against clouds of dry ice after the first whispers of “Can you catch a medicine ball?”. ‘catch these fists’ couldn’t have been better selected as their opening track – it was the first release that marked their metamorphosis, and with lyrics such as “He don’t get puss, he get the boot… I just threw up in my mouth / When he just tried to ask me out”, they made it clear they weren’t coming quietly. With Teesdale striking her now-signature muscle pose at the end of the song, fans were offered a brief breather before delving into ‘wet dream’ – famously covered on BBC Live Lounge by Harry Styles.
Despite perpetually flitting between album offerings, their setlist remained seamless, with no track feeling out of place, and the energy echoed by the crowd never faltered. ‘Oh no’ and ‘Supermarket’ were followed by the nonsensical and saccharine ‘liquidize’. More stripped-back than its moisturizer compadres, ‘liquidize’ allowed Teesdale’s vocals to shine where ‘jennifer’s body’ offered punchier, almost staccato recitations of affirmations on love aboard the 75 bus.
‘Being In Love’ stood out as a fan-favourite of the night, as the crowd fluently echoed Teesdales’ melodic croonings. What swiftly followed was a not-so-brief intermission dedicated to their sophomore record. Working through a carefully selected handful, ‘davina mccall’, ‘11:21’ and ‘u and me at home’ offer a slower pace slotted between the driving guitars of ‘don’t speak’ and R-rated, brash confessionals laced throughout ‘pillow talk’.
Returning to their roots, Wet Leg reminisce with ‘Too Late Now’ – a foregoing of unsolicited opinions (“I don’t need no dating app / To tell me if I look like crap / To tell me if I’m thin or fat / To tell me, should I shave my rat”) that overtly, and regrettably necessarily followed them through to their second record. Boasting lush soundscapes that translate impeccably in a live environment, ‘Too Late Now’ exemplified their ever-present knack at producing infectious cuts.
Closing the main section of their set was ‘Angelica’, before the band briefly departed the stage for their much-anticipated (and much-expected) encore. No Wet Leg performance would be complete without the track that catapulted them into stardom. ‘Chaise Longue’ dominated airwaves for seemingly the whole of 2021 (and 2022) – and rightly so. This was most listeners’ first experience of the then-duo, and introduced them to their witty, tongue-in-cheek ways that never shy away from innuendos (here – a nod to Mean Girls; “Would you like us to assign someone to butter your muffin?”). With echoes of “what?”’s still echoing around Mountford Hall, Wet Leg launched into a riotous and drilling performance of ‘CPR’.
Comprised of sarcastic remarks (“good job, give you an A”), crystal-clear societal observations (“I know you’re up at night, hunched over your phone)”, and apathetic dismissals (“You’re in our way / get lost forever”) – the softer notes of ‘mangetout’ was the perfect way to close out the night – with the lyrics offering a sample of every side of Wet Leg.
Fans vacating Liverpool’s Mountford Hall were left with the ringing cries of ‘Ur Mum’ and satirical ‘“What?”’s, and the knowledge that Wet Leg weren’t closing up shop any time soon – they were just getting started.
Words and photos by Lana Williams
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