August 30th marks the end of an amazing month for British guitar music. It started three weeks ago with the releases of Beabadoobee’s This Is How Tomorrow Moves and Twin Atlantic’s Meltdown and ended this week with an Oasis reunion (!!!) and, of course, the album we’re here to talk about today. Wunderhorse have released Midas, their follow-up to their excellent 2022 debut album, Cub!

Midas comes after about two years of consistent touring and work from the British indie rockers. In those two years, they’ve toured with some of the biggest names in indie rock from either side of the Isle of Man. They served as openers for Fontaines D.C., Foals, and Sam Fender, to name a few, and the influences from all of those bands can be felt throughout Midas’ tracklist. After those extensive tours, Wunderhorse moved in to Pachyderm Studio in Minnesota – the same studio that saw sessions for Nirvana’s In Utero and PJ Harvey’s Rid of Me, among others – to work on the new album.
When explaining the recording process, frontman Jacob Slater explained, “When we first went into the studio to make this record, the only thing we were sure about is how we wanted it to sound; very imperfect, very live, very raw; no frills. We wanted it to sound like your face is pressed up against the amplifiers, like you’ve been locked inside the bass drum.” The title track exemplifies this approach. “Midas” served as the album’s lead single as well as the opening track, and Slater’s vocals are closer to the ears than they were throughout Cub. The drums are some of the clearest I’ve heard in a while, and the distortion coming through the guitar amps in between solos places the listener firmly in the room with Wunderhorse as they punch their way through.
“Rain” is modern post-punk in a nutshell: it’s danceable, dire, and desperate to be understood. Slater channels his inner Grian Chatten, trying to push the listener to see things as he does and attempting to make someone, anyone, hear what he’s really trying to say. It reminds me a bit of Fontaines D.C.’s “A Lucid Dream.”
And then “Emily,” the only track on the album’s A-Side to not be released as a single, comes in less frenetic but no more relaxed than the first two tracks. Slater sings at the end of the bridge, “I hope they never find me out.” This theme carries through the rest of the album, though not necessarily in the lyrical content. Though Slater’s lyrics on the Sam Fender-influenced “Silver” are absolutely along the same lines, it’s the delivery of his vocals on “Arizona” that feel the most connected. When Jacob Slater said the band wanted to sound “very imperfect, very live, very raw,” I can only imagine he had “Arizona” in mind. His vocals cut like a knife, the pain palpable throughout the entire song.
The B-Side of the album starts off a bit rocky, admittedly, as “Superman” is a moment to breathe that goes on a little too long. “July,” the album’s third single, also doesn’t really grab a listener’s attention at first. I add that caveat, though, because once the listener has trudged through the sludge of “July” and made it to “Cathedrals,” they’ll realize that that was the point. If “July” is the darkest part of the night, “Cathedrals” is where the light comes back in through the windows and hope is a bit more noticeable.
“Girl” sees the band channeling their inner power pop roots, sounding more like Oasis than anyone ever could have seen from them after listening to Cub. Side bar: I need to mention here that some of the best songs on Wunderhorse’s debut were some of the darkest – namely “Butterflies” and “Mantis” – and that’s the main difference here. If Cub was a band and a frontman reckoning with pandemic life, the dissolution of one band and formation of another, and, in a sense, a coming-of-age, Midas is when they start to notice the gold coming from things they’ve touched.
This isn’t meant to serve as a cautionary tale, though. Wunderhorse’s spin on Greek mythology provides more hope than fear. Cub represents the darkest nights, and Midas represents the sun peeking through. Speaking from my own experience, when my mental health is spiraling, it’s hard to notice the good that I’m putting into the world. But if I can notice the good things that I’m doing – turning things to gold, in essence – I can both pull myself out of the spiral and avoid the greed that cursed Midas in the end.
“Aeroplane,” the album’s closer, is a moment of reflection, with an excellent guitar solo rounding out the full listening experience. The longest song on the album by about three and a half minutes, it serves as a slow burn to remind the listener that sometimes desire can be a good thing. Sometimes wanting to see the positive doesn’t involve glossing over the negative. It’s ok to want to be ok.
Check out Midas below, and be sure to let us know what you think!
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