The Wombats
NEX T BRIT-ROCK JESTERS
In a nutshell: Brought together in 2003 by a love of lager and lyrics about
odd animals, singer/guitarist Matthew “Murph” Murphy, drummer/singer
Dan Haggis, and bassist Tord Øverland Knudsen met while enrolled at
the Liverpool Institute for Performing Arts, cofounded by Paul McCartney.
Their fondness for fauna came out in their very first composition, “An Ode
to Charles the Goat.” “He’s got drug issues and gives a goat in a neighbor-
ing field a sexually transmitted infection,” explains Murphy. Eventually,
the band turned serious—they played more than 270 shows in 2007—and
released their U.K. debut last November.
What’s the big deal: Fizzing with laddish humor and lung-emptying
choruses, the Wombats’ disc is Britpop suited for frenzied pogoing. Think
Franz Ferdinand’s sharp corners mixed with Art Brut’s meta-poetry. In
“Let’s Dance to Joy Division,” Murphy unites his love for “miserable music”
and for a girlfriend, which crystallized while “dancing on a table to ‘Love
Will Tear Us Apart,’ drinking vodka and orange.” “The songs are therapy for
me,” he says. “At the same time, you have to take the piss out of yourself.”
Meet the Beatle: Attending a Fame-style program has its perks. In 2006
their alma mater helped fund a trip to China, where they played in front
of 10,000 people. Even better, however, was a school-sponsored visit
with their Liverpudlian benefactor. “[McCartney] was telling me when he
used to smoke weed, he’d get hung up for three weeks on one word,”
says Haggis. The Wombats, thankfully, stick to liquor. CRAIG McLEAN
A Guide to Love, Loss & Desperation (no label yet) is out this spring.
JAY
R EATARD

NEX T GARAGE-PUNK PRODIGY

In a nutshell: The Memphis native’s musical career got off to an early start after his dad gave him an ultimatum in 1995: Do your homework or give up your guitar. The decision was a no-brainer for Reatard (born Jay Lindsey), whose moniker comes from a misspelling on an early homemade cassette. “I moved out of my dad’s house and never showed up for the first day of grade nine,” he says. “Instead of going to school, I made records.” One of his spring-loaded punk bashings caught the ear of Eric Friedl from veteran Memphis scuzz rockers the Oblivians, who decided to put out the then-17-year-old’s first seven-inch single. “Back then, I couldn’t believe I was drinking with a guy from my favorite band,” says Reatard, now 27. “But watching me puke in bags and break stuff probably got old for him real quick.” The ultraprolific Reatard has released more than 50 recordings, including 18 full-lengths. (Many of his early out-of-print tracks will be compiled on a reissue this spring.)

What’s the big deal: Garage rock with Jolt in its veins and melody on its mind, Reatard’s latest, Blood Visions, explodes 15 songs in 28 minutes. “The album might sound really intense, but I think I’m calming down,” says Reatard, who will release a new single every other month on Matador from March till the end of the year (they’ll be collected on a full-length later on). “I used to be in bands where the focus was on making the loudest, most annoying sounds we could. Now I’d rather figure out how to make four chords work the right way.”

PHOTOCREDIT

His own worst enema: Reatard’s live sets can get a bit raucous. “I used to do a lot of things that you can’t put in a magazine,” he says. Try us. “One time I poured a beer up my butt and then squirted it on a guy’s face,” he offers. “Now I have this reputation for wild shows, and the seed I planted with that stuff has grown into a tree that’s throwing beer bottles at me.” DAVID MARCHESE

Blood Visions (IN THE RED) is out now.

Jay Reatard, photographed for Spin in Memphis, Tennessee, December 4, 2007

ENERGIE JEANS, ENERGIE.I T