At Primavera Sound Barcelona, Rhian Teasdale, 32, emerges from smoke, stained the color orange by stage lights, gallantly flexing her arms in the air. She hovers over the mic, revealing bleached eyebrows and hair that fades from brown roots to pink. Her outfit is highlighted by a trimmed white shirt and neon fishnet leggings — a clear departure from the bohemian style that proved prevalent amid the release of “Wet Leg” in 2022.
Anyone who has seen the five-piece rock ensemble in 2025 will know that this is a visually different band than that of three years ago.
“It was five years ago that we made the ‘Chaise Longue’ video,” Teasdale says. “People have seen your image as a certain way, and then you grow, you change.
“It’s funny how much people expect you to stay the same, and it’s somehow this big statement to grow and change.”
Rhian Teasdale and Hester Chambers of the rock quintet.
(Alice Backham)
She also notes that “subconsciously,” she had chosen her former attire out of discomfort. Now, feeling more at home in her own skin, she can take a more authentic approach to herself.
“I did not want to be sexualized by men,” she reflects. “The thought of showing any skin and anyone maybe thinking that it was for the male gaze made me want to cover up and not be noticed.
“It wasn’t a conscious gear shift kind of thing, but there are a few things that I can look back on and pinpoint why I’m able to have so much more self-expression.”
Still, their self-titled debut — as kitschy and cottagecore as it was in appearance and sound — certainly warranted the reception that it received, featuring tantalizing tracks such as “Chaise Longue” and “Wet Dream.” In the latter’s music video, Teasdale and Chambers unforgettably prance around in long, blue dresses while sporting lobster claw gloves. But it would be “Chaise Longue” that snatched up a Grammy award in the alternative music performance category; the band also won for alternative music album.
For being stuck within the confines of an island populated by just 140,000 people, Wet Leg’s rise was meteoric. Teasdale mentions that the lives of the Isle of Wight natives were “completely changed”; she was a stylist assistant for commercials in London, bassist Ellis Durand was putting up scaffolding, drummer Henry Holmes was a surf instructor, guitarist Joshua Mobaraki worked in a café and Chambers had taken up a position making jewelry in the family business.
Indeed, the “very sleepy and small-minded” island off the coast of England, known for its beautiful coasts, isaltogether a grain of sand in the Channel, hidden underneath the mainland’s shadow.
“You have to take a boat over there,” Teasdale says of the island. “There’s no bridge, there’s no tunnel.”
Though she’s since moved to London, leaving it in the rearview at 18, she notes that Chambers, Mobaraki and Durand still call it home. Holmes also made the mad dash to the city.
“We’re all just living our little lives and all of a sudden you’re touring the world,” Teasdale says. “It’s crazy going to the Grammys and looking at all the famous people off the telly and just feeling very odd.”
Though, it now seems that the group are well adjusted to fame, as they return for their sophomore album, “Moisturizer.” It’s a far more sonically expressive, authentic and raw record than that of its predecessor. Though no one can deny the hypnotic nature of hits like “Chaise Longue” and “Wet Dream,” the group has undeniably evolved and it shows across the entire 12-track project.
Wet Leg has experienced a change of appearance since their debut three years ago.
(Iris Luiz)
It opens up with the oh-so-smooth “CPR,” the second single released off the album, which Teasdale describes as “walking up to a great height [and] jumping into the abyss that is love.” This proves to be a consistent theme across “Moisturizer,” which often feels like Teasdale’s ode to an aching heart. “CPR” is just the “launchpad” for the “rest of the tunes to spawn from.”
This pours into “liquidize,” which teems with a sense of yearning, questioning in heartache , “So many creatures in the f— world / How could I be your one?” On the rougher “jennifer’s body,” Teasdale’s soft delivery shines through to say “Every day starts and ends with you / Hold me down I get high on you” before taking a backseat and letting Chambers’ guitar wail away.
“I think before falling in love this time around with my current partner, I just had no interest in writing love songs,” Teasdale confesses. “I’d only dated men up until my partner… I feel like the world is so saturated with love songs from a very heteronormative perspective and I felt no interest in it at all.”
As for the change of heart: “I think love just hit me really heavy this time… I’m just so very, very, very, in love.”
Hilariously, she also compares the album rollout process this time around to a fairly obscure occupation she was thrown into prior to the band’s rise. Teasdale, who once worked as a baker, says their debut was like “when you start a new job and you’ve been told you have to make doughnuts.”
“You don’t know where any of the stuff is, so someone has to teach you… where the cookie cutters are, and where the box of sugar is,” she says, laughing. “You know, just like rolling out an album, rolling out the doughnut, rolling out that dough.”
A highlight of the album comes in their third single, “davina mccall,” a mellow and dreamy song that references the famed British “national treasure” known for her work as a TV presenter on “Big Brother.” Teasdale says she watched the show as a kid in the 2000s and was always fascinated when McCall would turn to the camera and say, “This is Davina, I’m coming to get you” when a contestant was eliminated.
“It was a very dramatic moment when Davina McCall was coming to get you,” she says. “It’s kind of a little joke that I’ll come and pick you up wherever you are.”
Teasdale says McCall even recently came to a Wet Leg show after the band had told her they’d written a song using her name. Thankfully, she was “so cool” and gave “the best hugs ever.”
But fans will also be pleased to notice that the group has still maintained their signature, bold tongue-in-cheek style of lyrics. On “mangetout,” Teasdale sings “You wanna f— me? / I know, most people do” over a smooth riff and declares on “pillow talk” that “Every night I f— my pillow / I wish I was f— you.”
“The more muscular sound that is on this album is just the result of five people that have been touring together for something shy of three years,” she says. “I think my sense of humor will always be the same… it’s kind of impossible to leave that behind.”
In the last few tracks, the album noticeably slows down. “11:21” is a beautiful song that finds strength in its simplicity. The title is a call back to the day Teasdale met her partner: “Time goes by / But I feel the same about you since the day we first met,” she sings.
(Top to Bottom) Hester Chambers, Joshua Mobaraki, Ellis Durand, Henry Holmes and Rhian Teasdale of Wet Leg.
(Alice Backham)
It’s sandwiched between “don’t speak,” which falls short of capturing the same essence that the rest of “Moisturizer” is peppered with, and “u and me at home.” The latter is the album’s closer and features some of Chambers’ best performances on the album; it’s a befitting farewell to an excellent project.
“I think when you’re really close with someone, it just means that you don’t have to use words,” Teasdale says of working with Chambers. “It’s just easy and joyful and the most natural thing.”
“Moisturizer” hits streaming services and music store shelves on July 11, with all the potential of outperforming their debut, even with it being as successful as it was. Together, the band sounds more refined than three years ago and — if their recent performances are anything to go off of — looks to light up the stage on their North American tour, which starts in September and makes a stop in Los Angeles on Oct. 17.
“I’m just excited for people to hear the rest of the album, because it’s just a fun album,” Teasdale says. “We made it to be played live, so I’m excited for when it’s not a secret thing anymore.”
