Supergroup combinations feel rarer now than they ever did. The Waeve is one of the last, and one of the best. Stiff competition from Boygenius, but Graham Coxon of Blur and Rose Elinor Dougall of The Pipettes have come together for ten tracks of surreal near-perfection on this self-titled supergroup piece. The Waeve is an abundance of art-pop quality. A challenging, gorgeous listen. Singles teased the full project with shockwaves of intensity for endless months. The Waeve slots those stray pieces into place and gorges itself on synth-heavy album tracks. Intensity shared among listeners, stern brilliance right at the core of a piece that defies high expectations. It takes just seconds for that welcoming build, that surge of motion on Can I Call You, to take hold.
Sexy, moody saxophone work ties into that synth consistency on Kill Me Again, a track that would find itself comfortable in the hands of a Brian De Palma thriller from the 1980s. Coxon takes the lead on the vocals here. Dougall on the next. The Waeve trades back and forth constantly, dishing out the workload equally, marking an essential balance and style to what could have been a relentless, brutal project. Moody jazz numbers dominate the first side, with Over and Over turning down the lights and the pace, edging ever closer to that lounge-like appeal. Touchingly repetitive on that third track, broken up by a quality guitar solo from Coxon, it is wonderful that this pairing pushes through, further and further. That 80s-clad synth is explored once more on Sleepwalking, while Drowning plays with its lengthy structure, splits itself into two and bridges between the fractures with incredible instrumental work.
Nothing short of lush, these natural pushes and shoves throughout The Waeve mark it as an essential art-pop piece. Someone Up There cannot help itself, pushing for that darker tone teased on the A-Side. It comes as an inevitable moment, its brutalist structure shooting through with urgency, an almost extra-terrestrial feel to it. Krautrock inspirations style a handful of tracks on here, but The Waeve flows from that and toward some villainous, war cry-like moments on All Along and the lengthy industrial fascination, Undine. Following that up with the liberating Alive and Free creates such an integral contrast. It cements the flow of The Waeve and leaves the duo well-equipped for last track You’re All I Want To Know – a slick electric guitar closer that cements the incredible, overlapping qualities of Dougall and Coxon but also the change in tone, from uncontrollably bleak to hopeful and reawakened.
Coxon and Dougall have such great legacies behind them, but The Waeve may be their best work yet. It settles so well. Explosive jazz-fusion, weighty lyrical observations of declining vigour and hopelessness. Setting that to a backdrop of saxophones, guitar work that has the clear Coxon flourish to it is as moving as it is impressive. Dougall and Coxon make for a high-key release, one that blurs the talents of two accomplished individuals together. Their defiant efforts here mark some career-best qualities, not just for the lyrical perspectives or the playing style, but from the bold and ambitious desire to feed a change of pace, a deep dive into the endless stream of the art-pop genre. It serves them well, and The Waeve serve their audience a slice of high-calibre music. As harsh as the album is, moments of loving, fragile care can be spotted throughout. An album that ends with cries for someone to stick around, it would be too late to go at that point anyway.
