When you’ve been in the industry long enough, indifference—true indifference, where you don’t actually care what listeners think of you, about profiting from your music, or the path to major label success—becomes liberating. And who doesn’t want to feel the overwhelming weight of expectations lifted? No wonder a busybody like Dave Grohl once crashed Wet Leg’s set. From their debut song-turned-viral hit onwards, the British indie rock band bottled up snark as freedom and laced it with art-punk hooks, and stressed-out listeners were buying en masse. Reacting to life’s blows is normal: breakups, losses, firings. Dwelling on it, however, is to willingly relinquish your happiness. Singer-guitarists Rhian Teasdale and Hester Chambers know the secret to having fun again is all in the shoulder shrugs.

Returning from a fruitful glow-up where their pockets buckled with gold trophies, Wet Leg slide back into loose-lipped dance-punk with “catch these fists,” their first new music since their 2022 self-titled album. Chunky and cheeky, the song rides a thick, chugging bass line and taut guitar riff while Teasdale rebukes late-night pickup artists, whisper-singing so softly that you can hear her throat croak at the end of certain words. “How can you catch a medicine ball? Can you catch yourself when you fall?” she asks with feigned interest while curling her fingers into a fist behind her back. Wet Leg sound spiteful this go-around, but the way Teasdale revels in the prolonged gaps between her deadpanned lyrics suggests it’s all just a joke—or is it?