2020s Album Guide: Wet Leg – “Wet Leg” (2022)

In 2006, Arctic Monkeys debuted at #1 with an instant classic debut widely hailed as the first to be organically catapulted all the way there from the corners of an Internet where Myspace was ascendant and social media was yet to become a dirty phrase; a word-of-mouse juggernaut. In 2022, Wet Leg’s self-titled debut became the first ever Isle of Wight album to put a lid on the same chart, despite it seeming like nobody had even heard of them. Where were these songs being played and how had they attracted such fervent Guardianista acclaim?

To many it felt like a pyramid scheme despite the excellence of “Chaise Longue”, until closing track “Too Late Now” stormed the airwaves and recontextualised the band’s schtick, namely a cooler-than-thou arthouse guitar approach pitched equidistantly between landfill indie and the snook-cocking Strokes and Libertines garage riffs which activated said generation, topped with “Suck It & See”-era Monkeys basslines wobbling like Bird’s Custard. Playful, arch and soaked in ennui, the lyrics aren’t quite on Florence Shaw’s level of detachment but skirt close, with references such as to “Mean Girls” and Vincent Gallo never far away. Despite its greatness, this record’s success seems the bellwether to mark the toppling of the post-punk Brexitwave house of cards. They’re selling Boris wigs on Etsy; Brexit is over and even its advocates know it’s a disaster.

2020s Album Guide: Beabadoobee – “Fake It Flowers” (2020)

Beatrice Laus had barely been playing guitar before her bedroom revival of 90s rock music landed her on Dirty Hit. “Fake It Flowers” is a debut unashamedly indebted to that era’s hallucinogenic visions of indie flick soundtracks, but no less lit to luxuriate in for that. Beyond indulging shimmery “Siamese Dream” fantasies, the album’s brand of dream pop veritably laced with regular ribbons of dazzling, sunshine-in-the-bay melody, Laus also plays cards from the Britpop booster pack, not least ample servings of crunchy Verve-esque symphonics.

Although entirely derivative, anyone dismissing the continuing emergence of girls with guitars rebooting 90s alt-rock cornerstones may be peering past the zeitgeist, and the sound of a more utopian rock industry being built from the ground up. “Fake it Flowers” is a kaleidoscope which reveals the twin possibilities of both a Gen Z future blooming from this very launch pad and, conversely, a fully-manifested fuzzbox of Gen X sugar not to be bettered.