“We’re only gonna give you this much”: How Wet Leg’s changing dynamic keeps them mysterious
Any band given the gift of long-term success will likely understand the tension that comes with expectation. In the beginning, Wet Leg seemed to some of their harshest critics like nothing more than the surface-level stoicism of two music-loving friends versus the industry, but if there’s anything their most recent cycle has taught us, it’s to expect the unexpected.
To those who got it, the awkwardness of Wet Leg was what drew you in. It was the endearing dynamic between Rhian Teasdale and Hester Chambers and the way they would play up to this rigidity, in the way Teasdale sang, and the way Chambers held herself with the kind of accidental presence that balanced Teasdale’s more intentional performance a little further into the spotlight.
And this was a literal, thing, too—Teasdale naturally fell more forward, with Chambers usually assuming a slightly more background position, like behind Teasdale in the ‘Chaise Longue’ music video, or ‘Wet Dream’, with her face constantly slightly obscured from view in a way that played into the surrealist nature of the narratives as well as the band’s natural affinity for that slightly awkward sense of mystique.
Artistically, it aligned well with Wet Leg’s stiffness, or that typical flavour of British deadpanned humour that pointed at itself and laughed, or somehow found new ways to make old quotes feel fun, new, and exciting (“Would you like us to assign someone to butter your muffin?). Then, though, Teasdale and Chambers’ joint dynamic worked because it was nonchalant. Entirely unbothered, as both of their positions contrasted with two different types of absurdity.
That’s not to say that Teasdale assumed a more significant position. More prominent, maybe, but her more extroverted pull (we’ll come to why that’s the wrong word later) worked against Chambers’ introversion (and why this is, too), culminating in the kind of tongue-in-cheek demeanour that felt anything but a typical band or duo. Almost like being at the forefront of a musical group was anything but natural, and they wanted to show you all the reasons why.
Perhaps this all felt far less subtle than it does now because, despite that being the case during music videos, live performances, and even recorded versions, Chambers was still very much the face of Wet Leg just as much as Teasdale, appearing in promotional images and interviews with equal amounts of prominence. But now, with the latest singles and the build-up to Moisturizer, there’s a more intentional shift towards this interplay, where each member (specifically Teasdale and Chambers) appears more definitive than before.
Now, it’s in our nature to equate visibility to artistic contributions, but considering the fact that Teasdale and Chambers co-wrote the record last year, the only shift during the actual process was their collective push to strive for more, whether that meant pushing the limitations of their own boundaries or letting themselves feel free enough to include lyrics they felt might have, to put it bluntly, gone a bit too far.
As Teasdale reflected to Crack, their culture of egging each other on means ideas that seem far-out usually get the green light, even if it means risking strange reactions from audiences later on. In their world, there’s usually a mantra of: the weirder, the better. “There might be an expectation that this time around, everyone’s watching us – that we have to do it properly and play it safe. But actually, it’s a really good thing to feel like you’re pushing it,” Josh Mobaraki said.
What does that mean for the current feel of Wet Leg, then? Most of us have noticed Chambers’ harsher retreat from the spotlight, promotionally and during live performances (facing away from the audience with her face hidden). Meanwhile, Teasdale steps into the more traditional role of the frontwoman, armed with a sharper demeanour that snaps into action in a more charged way than their first run. More serious, perhaps, leaning more into their surrealism and mystique than the earlier awkward absurdity.
At the same time, it’s okay to notice this shift, too. For Moisturizer, Chambers has deliberately stepped back due to a desire to refrain from being too heavily in the spotlight. Instead of attempting this change subtly, though, this anxiety has been reframed as an artistic tool that works for Wet Leg, with only Teasdale’s face shown in promotional shots and during performances in an effort to actively showcase Chambers’ resignation, even though it has nothing to do with how much a part of the band she remains.
It’s nothing they want to hide, and it’s something they’ve included well into this current iteration, something that claims its own space and place within their ongoing narrative, especially when it comes to letting you in without revealing too much. It’s a little off-kilter, but it’s confident, which gives it more authority to do so. As Teasdale explained: “It’s mysterious. I think there’s so much power in that – we’re only gonna give you this much. It’s definitely not fragility, it’s strength.”
Therefore, it’s not about contrasts. Not in the slightest. It’s not about being introverted or extroverted, as Teasdale also explains, “It used to piss me off when I’d read a journalist saying, ‘Rhian is an extrovert, Hester is an introvert.'” More accurately, it’s about putting “on a good show” and playing into the nuances of mystery, rather than anything oversimplified by meaningless dichotomies.
