Wes Chamberlain’s debut EP ‘a Nebulous vision’ blending the theatrical with the intimate. Southwest bedroom-pop artist Wes uses the EP to navigate the limbo between teenager and adulthood.
The college-age glamorised by skins, if glamorises is the right word? A chunk of time where hormonal emotions are gone and replaced by something much worse, much deeper. It’s an age forgotten, gone in the blink of an eye. A long-awaited project, all delivered with wit and a cynical smirk.
Opening with TATWITTTO it’s like ‘Chelsea dagger’ but make it Morrissey. The heavy synth echoing his drawn-out drawls, the 808 projecting the aching in his voice. This sense of yearning and frustration lingers throughout, with the unusual scale acting as stepping stones to the chorus, it slowly reaches and grasps – a sombre and slightly eerie break to the fast-paced pop.
Tiptoeing to the edge, unsure of what’s lurking, creates a jarring dynamic with more confident, indie rock opener and bridge. The healthy dollop of bass gives us a moment to realize what’s going on. Similar to ‘Break Loose’ the gritter, fuzz pedal riff shines a light on his rockier tendencies. Layering subtle harmonies in the pre-chorus adds an unexpected Britpop sparkle, similar to ‘Hockey Dad’ or ‘Blossoms’. Wes’s wallflower observations tell stories of tender but blunt melodies, all soundtracking this uncertainty.
Rolling into ‘Pathetic Fallacy’, an immediately fuller sound is bolstered by psych-pop flourishes, and continuing with the thunderstorm sound effect. We’re starting to clearly see Wes trace the emotional arc within his project. A gloriously 80s chart ready hook springs into action, but it’s the slap bass that builds a surprising disco soundscape. There’s a backwards-looking quality, a retrospective re-examining of the influences that have led him to where he is now. The dedication and love he has for his craft is clear from the first note, ‘A Nebulous Vision’ is a homage to the path he travelled to reach this point. This reminiscent note finds Wes sounding very much at ease with himself and his talents.
‘Retrospection’ starts the steady slope down, an air of King Krule hanging low like fog. The spaced out jazz is thick with nostalgia for a time we’ll never experience. The long wailing synth lugs the song forward one note at a time, dragging it’s heels. We’re sat opposite Wes and the band, in a smoky pub circa 1980, not quite knowing where to look. Some of my favourite vocal work appears on this track, his baritone leaning into every lyric.
‘I Didn’t Laugh’ is the leading single from the EP, giving us New order electronica; an Avant-Garde peak to the narrative.
Nebulous meaning hazy, opaque, ambiguous, has a timeless quality, is in its own bubble but never feeling private or closed off. ‘A Nebulous Vision’ romanticises the mundane, I’m staring in a 26 minute coming of age film. Drawing comparisons to cult classic Submarine (soundtrack by Alex Turner), Wes has put his own ironic stamp on this concept.
The final song ‘Water Closet’ really is the grand finale of the indie flick. A ‘Tango in the Night’ style opening matched with his trademark sci-fi whirr builds to the theatrical final act. The shameless, on the nose metaphor, is the centrepiece, letting the rest grow and expand from the initial line – giving us that inside joke, the little nod of knowing. You can’t help but picture yourself as his protagonist. There are a million different scenes this could belong to, your job is to simply press play and live them.
I was struck with an overall sense of excitement from this project, an excitement for the music; for the musician. An EP all about figuring things out. ‘A Nebulous Vision’ is out now on all major platforms and keep updated with Wes and the guys on Instagram @weschamberlaintunes.
