Wet Leg – Catch These Fists Review

Nearly three years on from their self-titled debut, Wet Leg’s latest single, Catch These Fists, feels like a do-over. Gone is the lighter touch, the flourishing art-rock developments of catchy pieces like Chaise Longue or the bass-riff brilliance of Wet Dream. In comes a darker tinge to their image, a chase of popular tones at that, but an image, nonetheless. The band lacked one on their first outing, but such is the case for most newcomers. Catch These Fists hopes to pair Wet Leg with the more out-there, alternative indie rock scene. which has been dominated in recent years by inspired, niche thrill rides like Amyl and the Sniffers and Lambrini Girls. Confident, forward-pushing pieces of cultural commentary which matter because they articulate personal experience with punchy numbers on social transgressions. Catch These Fists tries to fit the bill, though it falls a tad short.

From the aesthetics to the encounters heard throughout, it all feels a tad faux. Nevertheless, it is an image. The band were keen to use lobsters and liveliness on their debut release but have traded this in for nods to ketamine-addled horses and encounters at the bar. Instrumentally effective but a lyrical letdown. Obvious hooks which do not land with the repetition of “man down” rely more on having something for a crowd to shout back than a meaning for the rush and riots of clubbing. It is a difficult walk, the fine line between catchy and forgettable. By writing with the intent of audience interaction, Wet Leg find themselves spiralling away from what made them a tremendous listen when they first appeared. Rhian Teasdale still has those lead singer qualities, from the interjection of “man down” to the apparent spills and thrills of the club scene, but the conviction behind them sounds lacking. A real shame, a letdown when compared to songs of a similar vein which Wet Leg provided before. 

Man down, level up, it is a shaky first single for the release of Wet Leg’s second album, Moisturizer. What should be a call to arms is a song which is over before it has a chance to cement any of its storytelling. Another man down to play it out, paired with that level up, and it feels like the focus is on hooks, which could convince an audience to jump around, rather than anything of surprising or effective lyrical use. Catch These Fists could be nothing more than a crowd-pleaser, but the simplicity of it, which overtakes the meaning of the song, and the brief and fleeting moments of late-night escapades, is a disappointment. Instrumental thrills are what we can cling to in the meantime, then. Their debut singles took a little time to grow into, but Catch These Fists has what the others did not.  

Catch These Fists sounds like ready-made radio pop. It has traces of an empowered, interesting message but loses its way as it hopes to funnel listeners into the bouncy experience brought on by repetition. Cut through it, and there are the hallmarks of modern indie rock in there, the Dark Fruits, the chatter which defined Wet Leg in the lead-up and fallout of their debut. None of it feels to have advanced all that much. A slightly heavier tinge to their sound and the hopes of a more complete-sounding project, definitely, but Catch These Fists, for all the violence and rebellion it promises in its title, gets nowhere close to projecting that intensity. Should the aim be to have fun with some sun on the way, then Catch These Fists certainly succeeds, but Wet Leg has an album full of that. Catch These Fists promises a tonal change, a new sound, which the duo shies away from immediately.