Blur guitarist
Graham Coxon and former
Pipettes member
Rose Elinor Dougall may not be an obvious musical pairing, but it makes their work together as
the Waeve all the more interesting. In their solo careers, they've explored styles ranging from folk to Krautrock to electro-pop. While they touch on many of these sounds on their project's self-titled debut album, it's still not quite like anything else they've done. Recorded in late 2020 and early 2021, when COVID-19 lockdowns brought time to a standstill,
The Waeve's stream-of-consciousness explorations fizz with the chemistry of a new creative connection. With their combined experience,
Dougall and
Coxon could go in almost any direction; at times, it feels like they go in almost every direction. The album begins with "Can I Call You," a high-wire act that begins as a spacey ballad showcasing
Dougall's creamy alto, then switches to a pulsing motorik driven by
Coxon's cracked guitar solo and creaky vocals. As it soars and sprawls, the song embodies its call to escape from stultifying routines. Being swept away is a theme
the Waeve return to on songs as different as "Drowning," a cosmic ramble through symphonic pop, free jazz, and psych-rock, and "Undine," a mythologically inspired tale of surrender that links
Coxon and
Dougall's beguiling verses with a powerful synth undertow. While
the Waeve don't seem concerned about whether or not their audience is swept along with them, a few threads hold the album together loosely.
Dougall's clean, rich voice fits almost any style effortlessly, and she builds on the warmth and humanity she displayed on 2019's solo album
A New Illusion.
Coxon's wide-ranging instrumentation complements her ably; together, they reimagine their influences -- which range from
Sandy Denny to
Van der Graaf Generator -- with plenty of inspiration. He plucks a medieval lute and she delivers graceful melismatic vocals on the beautifully dour British folk homage "All Along," but the heavy riff that splits the ground beneath them is more akin to doom metal. Her unguarded harmonies and his winding saxophone (an instrument
Coxon has played since the pre-
Blur band
Seymour) warm up "Sleepwalking"'s pensive electro-pop, and on "Someone Up There"'s grinding post-punk, she provides shouty support to some of his finest guitar playing on the album. Tightening up some loose ends might have made
The Waeve more cohesive, but at its best, it's elegant, unpredictable music made for the sheer rejuvenating pleasure of it. ~ Heather Phares
