Showing posts with label Wet Leg. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wet Leg. Show all posts

Wednesday, 3 December 2025

My Top 25 of 2025 (1)


If it's December, it must be time to start counting down my favourite records of the year. You know the drill...

25. Wet Leg – moisturizer

At the beginning of the year, I had this pegged as one of my most anticipated releases of 2025… so what went wrong? Weight of expectation? A concerted effort to go more mainstream? Rhian Teasdale’s clear desire to recreate herself as some kind of sexy femme-rock icon? (See how she’s changed.)

 (Small m) moisturizer is far from a disaster, but it’s not as smart as it thinks it is – songs named after davina mccall, pokemon and mangetout promise more than they deliver, and the consistent lack of capital letters just smacks this English teacher as trying too hard. When it works – as on the thrilling lead single Catch These Fists – there’s still hope to be had… but there’s nothing as strong or as joyously witty as Chaise Longue or even Wet Dream… and at times, it comes dangerously close to sounding like Republica. Still, maybe that’s what the kids are looking for these days. I very much doubt Rhian and Hester are interested in the opinions of a weird 53 year old blogger as long as they can keep selling out the arenas…

Wet Leg - CPR

Difficult second album syndrome?


24. Bret McKenzie – Freak Out City

Formerly half of Flight of the Conchords, Bret McKenzie released his debut solo album Songs Without Jokes back in 2022, and it was a moderate favourite of mine for its Randy Newman-flavoured observation songwriting. Having been a huge Conchords fan, all it needed to lift it to the next level was… a few more jokes.

Well, they’re still largely absent on his follow-up record, but I continue to dig the profoundly 70s vibe – more debts to Newman, and the occasional steal from Stealer’s Wheel…

Bret McKenzie - Freak Out City


23. Nervous Twitch – The Day Job Gets In The Way

A new discovery from Leeds, which gets them extra marks, and this went down well with Brian, CC and The Swede, so I figured I better squeeze it into my countdown. Nervous Twitch are partying like it’s 1979 – and there’s everything right about that. Further investigation reveals this isn’t actually their debut – they’ve been bashing away at this malarkey for quite some time. Further investigation required…

Nervous Twitch – My Mum’s An Anarchist



Thursday, 6 November 2025

Self Help For Cynics #43: Family Fury


The Cranberries - Ode To My Family

A couple of years ago, I was in a charity shop with Sam. I was flicking through an uninspiring rack of CDs while Sam was looking at the kid’s books. When he found nothing to interest him, he came to get me – because I’m only allowed to stay in any shop as long as there’s something in it for him, after that we need to get out of there asap. When I didn’t immediately jump (there might have been an obscure CD by the Colourblind James Experience hiding in those final few CDs… that has happened to me before… once… it could happen again) Sam leant against a nearby shelving unit and demonstrated his boredom with a hefty sigh.

At this point, an elderly gentleman / fellow customer / Grumpy Old Bastard came storming over and shouted something at us both to the effect that if we weren’t careful, “that’s boy’s going to pull the whole shelf off the wall!” I turned, considered my response, then said to Sam – with a volume that turned heads across the shop – “Right, buddy, we’re going – we have to get as far away from this rude man as possible!”

Peter Gabriel - Family Snapshot

Afterwards, I did consider whether my reaction was setting the best example to my son, but frankly it’s not the first time Sam’s seen me lose my rag in a shop, and I doubt it will be the last. However, unlike more general frustrations about people blocking the aisle or pushing past me or spending ages reading the ingredients on a can of beans, this particular burst of rage was clearly triggered by the third letter in Dr. R. Douglas Fields’ angry acronym, LIFEMORTS. F… is for FAMILY.

Eels - I Want To Protect You

Now before you start thinking, yep, nothing more likely to get me wound up than certain members of my family… this isn’t about the anger we feel when our (pre-)teenage child ignores our wishes and does whatever the hell they want, specifically the thing we told them not to do. It’s not the anger we feel when our other half replaces the toilet roll so that the front sheet hangs down the back when any sane person in the world knows it should hang down the front – beard good, mullet bad! It’s not even the anger we feel when a previously level-headed sibling suddenly decides to stick flags up outside their house and starts telling us how that Nigel Farage has some quite interesting things to say, actually. 

Bennet - I Hate My Family

No, the Family trigger in LIFEMORTS is actually the complete opposite of all that. It’s the anger we feel when someone or something attacks, threatens or even insults someone in our family. Because our brains are genetically hardwired to protect those close to us. This is something scientists have noticed in many different species – often they characterise it as “maternal aggression”, where a female animal will act aggressively to protect its offspring from harm. But clearly it’s not just a female trait – mothers and fathers are both conditioned to keep their offspring safe. Not just from physical threat – but even from the threat of insult. (As to why we consider insult a threat, I refer you back to the last post in this series.) Scientists tell us that our brain does this because it’s fighting to preserve our genetic lineage. The survival instinct doesn’t just cover us as individuals, we also want to ensure “species survival”. 

Simon & Garfunkel - Save the Life of My Child

But I don’t think those are the only reasons we get angry when someone threatens our family. I think it also has a little to do with that key emotion science still has trouble with properly accounting for: love. And when it comes to a threat against our children… well, there’s no greater love. I was watching some TV show a while back – I wish I could remember what it was – and one of the characters said something about how all fathers secretly wish they could die to protect their child. The idea being that there would be no greater expression of paternal love. When I heard that – just a line in a TV show, nothing I can find any scientific research about – it connected with me. 

Marvin Gaye - Save The Children

The Family anger trigger isn’t just about parents and their children though. We feel a similar sensation whenever anyone in our immediate tribe is threatened. You may well have someone in your family circle who, in your opinion, is a complete dick. You may even have had occasion to tell them this to their face. And that’s fine. That’s just families. But if someone from outside your tribe upsets, attacks or insults them… you’ll probably still feel the urge to leap to their defence. Because our brains recognise that family units offer protection – safety in numbers, yeah, but numbers that are bonded together by blood or time or proximity… that’s even safer. This might even explain why people in abusive relationships might still feel the urge to protect their abusers from outside forces. And it definitely explains why otherwise non-aggressive kids get into fights at school because some big doofus has just insulted “your mum”. Or, as the wonderfully foul-mouthed Dr. Faith (remember her?) puts it…

“It’s the likely precursor for why we may hate everyone we are related to, but we still beat the shit out of anyone outside the family that messes with them.”

Wet Leg – UR Mum

How do we deal with this then? I’m not sure I’ve found an easy solution in my research other than the general piece of advice that always comes up when tackling our responses to emotion: recognise it, acknowledge it, understand it. So when that Grumpy Old Bastard came over and had a go at my son in the charity shop (while also casting aspersions on my own parenting), what I should have done is taken a step back – recognised that I was feeling anger because I saw this incident as a threat against my family and that my brain was conditioned to release the relevant stress hormones in a situation like this in order to facilitate a fight, flight, freeze or fawn response due to an ingrained, genetic predisposition to protect my child. And then I should have calmly assessed whether or not my reaction was valid or whether my brain was actually displaying an archaic evolutionary threat response which really wasn’t relevant in the modern world. And if I decided that to be the case, then the very best reply would probably have been to smile, defuse the situation with a vague apology for any unintentional upset caused, and carry on about my day.

Massive Attack ft. Tracey Thorn - Protection 

Or maybe I should have decked the old bastard, pushed him into the very furniture he was so desperate to “protect”. “Oh, look what you’ve done now – you’ve made a right mess of those shelves.” Hulk smash threats to Hulk’s people. F can stand for more than just Family.



Sunday, 10 September 2023

Snapshots #309 - A Top Ten OH NO! Songs

Oh no! I tried to find a picture of Bill Maynard holding a camera, to remind you all of the TV show Oh No, It's Selwyn Froggitt... but sadly, I failed. So here's Chris Hemsworth instead. Same difference?

Ten songs that will make go cry Oh No! 


10. Duke is still waiting for his test results.

Can someone please mark Ellington's test?

Marc Ellington - Oh No, It Can't Be So

9. Found in undeveloped countries and over the top melodramas.

UndevELOped countries and over the top mELOdramas.

ELO - Oh No, Not Susan!

8. Friends with Troy Tempest, and a girl's best friend.

Troy Tempest was the captain of Stingray. Marina was on his crew.

Diamonds are a girl's best friend.

Marina & The Diamonds - Oh No! (I Feel Like I'm The Worst So I Always Act like I'm The Best)

7. Presidents of the Yacht Club.

The president of a yacht club is called a commodore.

The Commodores - Oh No

6. Garfield meets Charlie Parker.

Andrew Garfield + Bird...

Andrew Bird - Oh No

5. Astonishing barks.

Bow Wow Wow - Baby, Oh No

4. Ludwig's holiday retreat.

Beethoven liked to get away in his camper van.

Camper Van Beethoven - Oh No!

3. Towel, please!

To dry that appendage...

Wet Leg - Oh No

2. Fancy a steak, now you're 16?

Johnny Burnette sang You're 16. He was partial to a nice T-bone.

T Bone Burnett - Oh No, Darling

1. Sounds like a healthier Nightingale.

Maxine Nightingale would be healthier if she ate brown bread...

1. Maxine Brown - Oh No, Not My Baby

Yes, I know Rod did that too... but honestly, which is the better version?


Snapshots will be back next Saturday... Oh yes!

Friday, 23 December 2022

My Top 22 of 2022: #6

6. Wet Leg - Wet Leg

A couple of years back, I’d pretty much resigned myself to having left (for want of a better genre name) “indie” music behind. Or maybe it had left me behind. I’ve been singularly unimpressed by all the Next Big Things to come down the pipe over the past decade or so, particularly the home grown variety. Occasionally I’d take note of a new American band who were playing those kind of songs, but even they often veered into another genre I was more comfortable with in middle age, such as Americana. Maybe guitar bands were a young man's game, and it was time to put away childish things.

And then, slowly, about a year ago, I started to take note of a new group of predominantly female UK “indie” artists who were making me smile in the way that guitar bands used to. Dry Cleaning. Billy Nomates. Low Hummer. Coach Party. Porridge Radio. Actually, they were making me smile in a way that the old guard often didn’t manage (Jarvis excepted), because not only were they singing about real life… but they were funny too.

I don’t know if anyone’s come up with a decent genre name for the artists I’ve mentioned above, but if they did then Wet Leg would be their queens. Chaise Longue was my single of 2022. I worried it’d just turn out to be a one off, and then they released Wet Dream, a track so good even Man of the Moment Harry Styles had to cover it.

The album wasn’t as instant a success as those two tracks, but I soon warmed to its collection of fun, quirky, attitude-packed pop songs, not one exceeding the 4 minute mark, every one guaranteed to make me smile, with a healthy mix of misanthropy and self-doubt.

Angelica, she brought her ray gun to the party
Angelica obliterated everybody
I look at my hands, then I look for the door
Can’t help but feel like I’ve been here before

I don’t know what I’m even doing here
I was told that there would be free beer
I don’t wanna follow you on the ‘gram
I don’t wanna listen to your band


It used to be so fun
Now everything just feels dumb
I wish I could care
And now I’m always 28
Still getting off my stupid face

Wet Leg - I Don't Wanna Go Out 

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
I don’t need no radio
No MTV, no BBC
I just need a bubble bath
To set me on a higher path



Friday, 2 September 2022

Celebrity Jukebox #30: Louise Brooks


On Wednesday, George complained about the "recent lurch to modern times" this feature had taken by featuring contemporary celebrities such as Bill Bixby and Nerys Hughes (God help him when I do my Scarlett Johansson post). And so, to keep Celebrity Jukebox's biggest fan happy, I've chosen someone today he should be more familiar with.

Louise Brooks was a Ziegfeld Follies dancer who signed a five year movie deal with Paramount in 1925 and became one of the biggest female stars of the Silent Movie era, although her career never really transitioned into the talkies and her star fell quite dramatically in the 30s.

Coincidentally, I came across a song that I never knew was about Louise Brooks while compiling my Top Ten Greek Mythology Songs last week. The intro to the video of OMD's 1991 single Pandora's Box tells how the Louise Brooks movie of the same name was banned by Adolf Hitler as "degenerate art". I bet he kept a copy for himself though. The song tells Louise's life story far better than I could...

Born in Kansas on an ordinary plain
Ran to New York but ran away from fame
Only seventeen when all your dreams come true
But all you wanted was someone to undress you
And all the stars you kissed could never ease the pain
Still the grace remains and though the face has changed
You're still the same


Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark don't mention Louise by name though. To find an actual lyrical mention, we have to listen to 15 minutes of post-Fish Marillion...


As you lie there on your bed
Beneath the face of Louise Brooks
With your makeup and your teddy bear
And your C.S. Lewis books
Bad seed
You're a bad seed

Alternatively, if you're really brave, you might try Germany's answer to Ultravox...


And Pious told me even more
About stars that shine forever on
The times of Bara, Gish, Louise Brooks
And above all his queen called June

I presume he's talking about June Whitfield.

Or... you might subject yourself to some Campag Velocet. Now I'm just the right age to have been regularly reading the NME when they proclaimed Campag Velocet the next big thing. Which probably explains why nobody's heard of them since.


Louise brooks bob
Rouge red lipstick
Beauty spot
She's got what it takes

What I find most interesting about that track is that it climaxes thus...

I'm on the chaise longue 
I'm on the chaise longue
I'm on the chaise longue 
I'm on the chaise longue

Which makes me wonder if Wet Leg were reading the NME when they were 3.


(Regardless, that's a million times better than anything Campag Velocet ever produced.)

Then we have John "Butter Salesman" Lydon, arriving stateside in his Y-fronts...


When Bettie Page was on the run
And my west was way out west
And Louise Brooks speak the crooks
The greatest pornographic country in the world
Welcome to America USA
Arriving in my underpants
Land of the free
Home of the naked
And the brave

And for all you 80s kids out there (not George), some Optimus Prime...


Was your hair cut by the council?
Two in one, Louise Brookes and Shirley Temple
One Madonna glove and a jacket too tight
Are you wearing your whole badge collection out tonight?

That made me smile.

But I think today's winner is Nashville-based, Boston born "street rocker" Tom Ovans, who... and I'm just spit-balling here... might own a Bob Dylan record. Or two.

Well, she looked like Louise Brooks from one of them old silent movies
I think it was the one where she gets beaten to death
But when her eyes caught mine down in that city of crime
I knew it was a day I could never forget



Thursday, 16 June 2022

2022 Contenders: Not A Dry Leg In Sight


Last August, I fell in love.

"If you're looking for the best new band of 2021, it's time to call off the search."

Then in October, it happened again. 

By this point, I was certain that the eventual debut album could not live up to the strength of those two singles... and of course, it doesn't. Just as Different Class wasn't 12 songs as strong as Common People and Disco 2000; Born To Run wasn't 12 songs that were equal to the title track and Thunder Road; and the Rolling Stones never made an entire album of Street-fighting Men and Sympathies For The Devil.

Ridiculous expectations aside, I can confirm that the Wet Leg album is very, very good. And best of all, it's lots of fun. In fact, it's just like Being In Love...
 


Wednesday, 20 October 2021

Cnut Songs #8: Mask Me


I returned to The Bad Place this week, to work out the last two weeks of my notice before starting my new job. In the four weeks I've been away, quite a lot has changed (they've moved further towards Hell in a Handbasket), but I'm past caring about any of that now and feel more like an impartial observer at the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. 

One thing I did notice though was how few people are still wearing masks in the college building. Before my sick leave, they were enforcing that pretty rigidly and all staff were wearing masks in the wider building, only removing them in offices and classrooms. They were also encouraging students to do the same. Now, hardly any students are masked anymore and a lot of staff seem to have given up bothering to.

This reflects a wider trend in society. I'd say it's down to about 50/50 in the local supermarket between mask wearers and unmasked types, but a lot of shops I've been in lately, nobody has been masked... except me. All this despite rising covid numbers and some creepy new variants.

But there's another reason I don't want to give up my mask: I like it! In fact, I've grown to love it. I find it a tremendous comfort when I'm out and about, not because of covid fears, but just because I can mutter and mumble away to my heart's content behind that mask... grimace or sneer or even stick my tongue out at the undesirables we encounter every day, feeling much more secure that they can't see what I'm thinking or hear what I'm mumbling. Can't we just keep wearing masks forever? Please?


In case you haven't heard it yet, Wet Leg are back with a follow up to my Single of the Year. And while the follow-up isn't quite as stop-you-in-your-tracks amazing as Chaise Longue (what could be?), it certainly confirms this band as way more than just one hit wonders.

"Baby, do you want to comе home with me?
I've got Buffalo '66 on DVD"

That line alone had me sold. And the video's just as good as the last one...




Monday, 2 August 2021

2021 Contenders: Extreme Earworm Alert!


If you're looking for the best new band of 2021, it's time to call off the search.

I first heard this on Thursday evening. I've listened to nothing else all weekend.

They're from the Isle of Wight.



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