Wet Leg’s self-titled debut arrives like a tonic: witty, immediate, and sharply observant. From the first jangling guitar to the last lingering vocal quip, the record pairs lo-fi irreverence with a popcraft that’s both sly and substantial. This review treats the 24-bit/44.1 kHz FLAC quality as a clean document of a band that thrives on clarity and space—sonically transparent, rhythmically nimble, and emotionally sly.
