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Kelly Zutrau's Organic Vulnerability

Song reviewed by:
SongBlog

There's always a curiosity about an artist that polarizes people. The Brooklyn-based indie pop/rock trio of Kelly Zutrau, Joe Valle, and Marty Sulkow released their debut album Don't You (2015) under the stage name of Wet, and received varying responses from critics. This is expected, but Genius (the song lyric annotation cite) seemed to take Pitchfork's negative review a bit too seriously when they decided to annotate Pitchfork's unflattering music review on their website

 

Wet may not have made any particularly groundbreaking artistic choices in their decision to blend R&B and pop elements to attempt to create something "unique", and their album might be too repetitive with the heartbreak theme - but there are moments of brilliance on the album. This is particularly evident on "Deadwater" and lead single "Don't Wanna Be Your Girl". 

 

While Pitchfork's Katherine St. Asaph argues that lead vocalist Kelly Zutrau's vocals lacks the "sighing wispiness", "melisma" and "force" displayed by her contemporaries, she does concur that Zutrau's vocals can be effective: "her go-to tricks are (admittedly pretty and sometimes inspired) double-tracked harmonies or a Banks-y quaver that’s plaintive the first couple times you hear it". Wet's lyricism often falls short of seeming inspired, but as Consequence of Sound's Collin Brennan notes, Zutrau has the knack for sounding mundane, intimate, heartbreaking and 'authentic' at the same time:

"Zutrau bares her soul with such breathy trepidation that every verse becomes a secret shared between confidants ...But Don’t You is also private in the way that some of the best R&B records are private: the fogged-up-windows, between-the-covers way...This organic quality pops up every so often, as if to reinforce the human element of an album that relies so much on electronic flourishes to get its point across".

 

"Don't Wanna Be Your Girl" undeniably succeeds in coming across as being confessional, intimate and organic. The accompanying music video (which was directed by  a publication aimed at 'perventing conventions of sexuality and gender') certainly foregrounds the intimate, intense and confessional nature of Zutrau's confessional lyricism. The lyrics are sparse and simple, but Zutrau's anguish swirls beneath the surface of her intonations and stretching out of 'o's. The song's title may seem direct and straighforward, but the song reveals that Zutrau's lyrical persona hasn't exactly mustered enough resolve to break off the relationship that isn't 'doing her right': 'I don't wanna be your girl no more/ I just wanna see your face at home'. 

 

It is unsurprising to learn that the song's ambivalence and emotional inertia was inspired by Zutrau's (painful) personal experience: 

"I got to a point in a relationship where I wanted to be able to say that I didn’t want to be his girlfriend anymore and really believe it. I wasn’t fully there yet. Writing these words really helped me get to the point I needed to get to in order to move on.

This relationship was a long time ago but it still feels really cathartic to play the song live. I feel like I’ve spent so much of my life being in really bad relationships over and over again, and it’s not like I’m all better now. It’s still a big part of my life. I still fully feel in it when I’m singing." (Genius.com)

 

As Rolling Stone's Joe Levy notes, reactions to Zutrau's candor - when backed by the subtle, fluid and well-timed sonic tapestry of guitar riffs, electronic blips and drum beats created by multi-instrumentalists Marty Sulkow and Joe Valle - either leaves you weeping or clapping: "The rhythm tracks don't swing so much as sigh, nodding gently in the direction of the boom-bap of hip-hop or the winding grind of R&B, every syncopation like a held breath. Quiet thoughts and sounds are constantly expanding, creating a cloud that's at once comforting and mournful. Song after song obsessively dissects a love that promises everything and — surprise! — comes up brutally short...The music cascades around her like dry ice, and you don't know whether to applaud or cry".

Wet's mono-thematic lyrical content and sonic repertoire may be too limited to earn widespread acclaim for now, but I'm positive that their next effort will do just that. 

 

 

 

 

 

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