You’ve never been into indie rock. I know. I understand. There’s just something missing.
“I just need...It doesn’t have enough...”
I look at you, recognition shining in my eyes. “Say it.”
“It just needs more sex!”
I first came across this notion in an interview with, of all people, Bon Iver. I had never thought about how Victorian indie rock could be before, but after reading that interview I saw it everywhere. Many of my favorite bands were guilty of skirting the issue of sex in their lyrics. It’s not that I need every song by Fleet Foxes to be about knocking boots, but it’s hard to justify a nearly complete eschewing of what is obviously such an important topic. You’re twentysomethings. I get it. Sex is important to you.
Well rejoice, you walking sacks of hormones! I know just the band for you. They are called Wild Beasts, and they can be downright lurid. It’s pretty awesome.
Now that I’ve lured you into reading this by talking about sex, I must confess that the most striking thing about Wild Beasts is not, in fact, that they like to talk about sex. It’s singer Hayden Thorpe’s voice. Not to make this article about all the things that are wrong with indie rock, but within the genre it’s definitely possible to get away with limited vocal prowess in the name of an aesthetic. It’s refreshing to hear someone actually carry vibrato in their voice in an indie song, and his falsetto is stunning. Wild Beasts’ vocal duties are split between Thorpe and guitarist/bassist Tom Fleming, but neither of them ever hide behind the often complex instrumentation—the vocals are almost always front and center, and they’ve got the talent to make it work.
Speaking of their instrumentation—it’s perfect. While their sound has changed greatly from their first 2008 LP “Limbo, Panto” to their latest album “Present Tense,” released last month, they’re always superbly tasteful. It used to be delay– and reverb–laden guitars, now it’s synths; either way it’s catchy and never overwhelming.
Did I mention they’re catchy? They’re super catchy. They can write great instrumental hooks (I would refer you to “Sweet Spot”—the synth part is so simple but so infectious) but their strong suit in terms of pure, accessible ear candy is Hayden Thorpe’s falsetto. I challenge you to get his crooning in the songs “We Still got the Taste Dancin’ on our Tongues” or “Vigil for a Fuddy Duddy” out of your head after, like, 10 seconds of listening to them. You can’t. It’s impossible. Seriously, if you figure out how, please tell me. It’s been years.
But enough about things that aren’t sex—let’s talk about sex again. Wild Beasts’ lyrics are, in many ways, their aesthetic in microcosm. They’re pretty visceral and unabashed in discussing blush–worthy material, but there’s a definite sense that they’re highly self–aware in their doing so. Even when they’re lurid—and they can be lurid (from “Wanderlust”: “Don’t confuse me with someone who gives a fuck/ In your mother tongue, what’s the verb ‘to suck?’”)—they seem to be consciously aware of all the bred–in “civilized” manners that they are thwarting in doing so. The best example of this is my favorite song of theirs, “Vigil for a Fuddy Duddy.” The verses describe a sexual conquest in a similar manner to that of “Wanderlust,” but a telling chorus follows: “Men, to be men, must love and pity/ So deeply and secretly.” This juxtaposition strikes me every time I listen to it. It’s so succinct, but such a lovely and intelligent commentary on contemporary notions of masculinity.
Wild Beasts know what they’re doing. As they themselves put it in “Palace,” “We may be savage and raw/ But at the core, we’ve higher needs.” Such self–awareness corroborates the impression that they’re a generally very intelligent bunch (incorporating synths more on their newest record hardly seems like an accident given the general trend in that direction,) and that intelligence shows through in their music. Check them out.
Want to know what else you have to listen to?
