Rhian Teasdale of Wet Leg, Cardiff Students' Union 2025

Fresh off the back of their second album moisturizer, and a slew of high-flying festival slots across Europe and beyond, Wet Leg returned to the Welsh capital for their first headline performance in Cardiff - a night that felt both celebratory and utterly unstoppable.

Taking the stage shortly after 9pm, Rhian Teasdale and Hester Chambers wasted no time as they slipped into their trademark mix of deadpan humour and theatrical poise. Teasdale’s vocals were sharper and more expressive than on record, switching between fun amusement and raw power. She worked the crowd with ease, sometimes leaning in with a knowing grin, other times thrusting the mic toward the sea of outstretched voices. The expanded line-up, now a five-piece, added heft and vitality, turning familiar songs into something fuller, louder, and more urgent.

From the moment they strode onstage and tore into catch these fists, the Great Hall was instantly theirs, a room buzzing with pent-up anticipation that dissolved into a unified bounce en-masse. The track’s serrated riffs and tightly coiled tension made for the perfect opener: sharp enough to jolt the crowd awake, playful enough to remind everyone why Wet Leg’s rise has been so irresistible.

Without pausing, they crashed straight into Wet Dream, greeted by a chorus of gleeful screams that nearly drowned out the first verse. Rhian’s voice cut through, concise and knowing, as if she were both amused and energised by how loudly the crowd echoed every line back. Already, the mood was one of joyful surrender. 

Then came Being in Love, shimmering with a bittersweet glow, a brief moment of softness before Ur Mum detonated in glorious fashion. Cardiff delivered the scream with feral enthusiasm. Chaotic, cathartic, and a reminder of why live music still hits something primal.

Newer tracks like davina mccall and 11:21 showcased a richer, darker edge to the band’s recent material. Still playful, still unmistakably Wet Leg, but signalling a group stretching creatively, leaning into deeper textures without losing their orbital charm.

Midway through the show, things unexpected halted when the band spotted a commotion. It turned out someone was accused of taking inappropriate photos. Teasdale addressed it calmly but firmly. Security moved fast, hauling the individual out as the entire room chanted “out, out, out!”. Whilst a jarring moment, Wet Leg handled it with grace and clarity, reinforcing the message that their gigs should be a safe space for everyone. When they eased back into the set, the bond between band and audience somehow felt even tighter as Teasdale reassured everyone that they will not tolerate any such behaviour at their shows. 

"Shall we play a song" guitarist Joshua Omead Mobaraki quipped, resetting the mood. From there, the night flowed back into warmth with pillow talk and u and me at home, pulling the room into softer, more intimate territory before the sheer swell of Too Late Now took hold.

Skipping an encore, Wet Leg closed with CPR and mangetout, a final pairing delivered with their signature blend of sharp edges, off-kilter charm, and effortless euphoria.

Wet Leg’s mixture of humour, heart, and conviction remains unmatched, and Cardiff responded with full-voiced devotion. The city got everything - the chaos, the charm, the connection, and a band willing to stand firm when it mattered. A triumphant, unforgettable night.

*****