WUT have always been tender but tough. The Vancouver trio — guitarist Kaity McWhinney, bassist Tracey Vath and drummer Lauren Smith — hold space for their sensitivities while challenging the social systems that mould their experiences. Over 10 scrappy, heartwarming twee punk gems, WUT lamented the disappearance of community spaces and tackled the male gaze and late-stage capitalism on their 2020 self-released debut album NOW. With enduring resolve, WUT continue to take care of themselves and take others to task on their full-length follow-up Mingling with the Thorns.
On WUT's latest, they stick to most of the elements that have cemented them as local favourites. Humour featured heavily on NOW — on "Strong Word," they imagined a synonym for "hate" working out in a vocabulary gym — but Thorns strikes a more serious tone. The album still reflects WUT's self-described "cuddle-core" poppiness but with a smidge less "cuddle." McWhinney's longtime friend and musical collaborator Riley Riley, from Northern California bands Artsick and the long-defunct Burnt Palms, leads guitar on "Your Feelings," bringing rough garage rock swagger to the album. (Riley's cameo comes as a surprising treat for those plugged into underground Vancouver between 2012 and 2014: Burnt Palms and Love Cuts became somewhat sibling bands given their personal ties; they even released a split cassette via Lost Sound Tapes.)
The 11 songs on Thorns are rife with tension, usually rooted in communication issues. Out of sync with and unable to read each other, self-doubt brews on "Your Feelings." "Your feelings are a mystery / I thought I was full of empathy / Your expression doesn't ring a bell / I take a guess, and it's wrong / So I play along," McWhinney sings. She exists in a constant state of anxiety due to lack of clarity on "Talking to Strangers." "I'm just not used to living in grey," she confesses apologetically. Although she fears her partner is losing interest in her on "When I'm Gone," she sees an upside: "And what you don't say won't feel like lies when I'm gone."
On the barbed "Quiet Quiet," WUT direct their ire at mansplainers who take up all the space in the room and who fancy themselves soothsayers. "Quiet! Quiet!" the band chants before Vath announces with formal composure, "The man has something to say." And on "Beuys Oh Beuys," she charges, "You're not a shaman, just a powerful man," before questioning, "A man in control / What's so radical about that?" The frolicking "Guts, Brains" tumbles over the edge that separates confidence from arrogance rooted in insecurity. "Why pay attention to anyone else at all / Other people's accomplishments will only make you feel small ... Why do research when you know all there is to know / Why have a conversation when you can lead the show?" Vath interrogates.
Ultimately, through all the challenges, supportive and loving relationships prevail on Thorns. When it comes to standing up for their friends, WUT summon superhuman strength and steely courage. "I will do whatever you need me to do / In order for you to feel safe / Whenever he is around," Vath declares on "Here for You," vowing to stare him down, knock him out, or shut up and look the other way — whatever her friend needs. "Alleys with You," the album's starkest song, is a pact of solidarity between two non-conformists. "Making sure to step on cracks / We will never turn back / Always looking at the in-between / Create our makeshift scene / Never pay attention to the avenues / It's always up and down the alleys with you," Vath sings.
Looking beyond personal relationships, WUT confront their eroding resilience in the face of change on "Powering Through." "Having caution when it used to feel safe / Getting puzzled when it was once a piece of cake / Feeling static when we used to make earthquakes / We were mindful / Now we have headaches," a weary but still wary Vath reflects. The song is vague enough that it could be about a variety of topics, but it's especially poignant coming from a band that put out their first album just as the ceaseless eviction crisis looming over Vancouver's DIY spaces reached a fever pitch. Having already been in local bands for at least a decade at that point, the members of WUT have felt such changes from the ground up.
On the pining NOW track "Out of Touch," McWhinney sang of "feeling guilty for wanting you to notice me." But being noticed — being seen — is both salvation and indictment on Thorns. It can be scary to speak up, for oneself or others, but every toxic situation reaches a critical point where someone must break the cycle. On WUT's sophomore album, they step up, and as they've done for underground music in Vancouver, they lift others in the process. It's a sweet whiff of victory in WUT's perennial fight from down among the thorns.