Winspear

8.3

Nature's Pill

Wishy

Words by Evan Zuri

Some albums ask you to sit down and pay attention. Nature’s Pill just waits by the door with its shoes on, ready to go wherever you’re going. Wishy’s second record, out October 2 on Winspear, is the kind of thing you put on to do the dishes and then catch yourself standing in the kitchen forty minutes later, still holding the same plate and singing along.

The Indianapolis band built their reputation on shoegaze-adjacent fuzz with big pop hooks, and Triple Seven showed they could write a chorus. Here they stop hedging. The band, along with producer Ben Lumsdaine, has made a record that’s lean, bright, and a little cheeky. The jangle is still there, but it’s cleaner and more confident, and the melodies are more direct. Nina Pitchkites’s airy delivery against Kevin Krauter’s more sarcastic one remains the band’s best trick, and they swap lines like two friends finishing each other’s bad decisions.

The opening run is hard to beat. “All the Rage” sets the tone with a sing-song tantrum that sounds like a breakup being processed in real time. “Covergirl” melts into dreamy, layered guitars, and “Sensational” is the one I keep returning to. It’s got a swaggering groove, a deadpan vocal, and a drum break that practically begs you to air-drum along. “Lovesick” is the other standout. The title is accurate, and the chiming guitars make the ache sound weirdly joyful. Then there’s “Mona Lisa,” which ends in a long wordless singalong that I defy anyone to resist.

What’s impressive is how much of the record circles one subject, the dizzy highs and lows of infatuation, without getting stale in tone. “Kiss Kiss Kiss” is the best example. It’s a woozy, slightly Auto-Tuned look at the cycle of starting over, and it’s funny and a little sad at once. Closer “Party World” lands the album’s thesis: love can make you feel like a clown, and the band decides to put on the nose and enjoy it anyway.

It isn’t perfect. A few songs run on the same energy for so long that the record could use one real change of pace, a slow dance or a hard left turn, to make the hooks hit even harder. “You’re Not Serious” is all frustration and not enough payoff, and “Blitz” gets a bit too motivational-poster in its lyrics. These are small complaints, though, and the record’s momentum carries you past them.

What I’ll remember is how little Nature’s Pill apologizes for being fun. In an indie landscape that often confuses seriousness with depth, Wishy bet that a great chorus is its own kind of honesty. They win the bet. This is a sugar rush with real feeling underneath, and I’m happy to take the dose.