Album Review: Hope (I Wish You'd Believe Me) by Wah!
Released in 1983, Hope (I Wish You'd Believe Me) is a curious gem from the electronic scene that blends New Wave and Synth-pop with raw energy. This album, produced by Mike Hedges and Pete Wylie, feels like a snapshot of its time—equal parts experimental and heartfelt. It’s not perfect, but it’s got this weird charm that sticks with you. Released across Ireland, Benelux, the UK, Italy, and Australia on labels like Eternal and WEA, it found its way into enough hands to leave a mark.
The opening track, "Sleep," grabs your attention right away. It’s moody, atmospheric, and kinda haunting, thanks to Charlie Griffiths’ synth work and Pete Wylie’s raspy vocals. The song builds slowly, layering sounds until it feels like you’re floating through a dream—or maybe a nightmare. I remember this one because it doesn’t try too hard to be catchy; instead, it lets the mood do the talking. And honestly? That’s rare for an '80s synth-heavy record.
Then there’s the title track, "Hope (I Wish You'd Believe Me)." This one hits different. With Washington’s driving bassline and Chris Joyce’s tight drumming, it’s got a pulse that pulls you in. Wylie’s lyrics are earnest, almost desperate, and the backing vocals from The Sapphires add just enough soul to make it soar. There’s even an extended version on the album if you’re into that sort of thing. What makes this track stick in my mind is how unapologetically emotional it feels. In a genre often accused of being cold or mechanical, this song proves otherwise.
Credit where it’s due—the whole team brought their A-game here. Jay Naughton’s piano adds warmth, while John Stoddart’s photography gives the sleeve a gritty edge that matches the music. Even the liner notes, written by Wylie himself, feel personal, like he’s letting you in on something secret.
Looking back, Hope (I Wish You'd Believe Me) isn’t gonna top everyone’s list of ‘80s classics, but it’s got character. It’s the kind of album you stumble upon at a thrift store, play once out of curiosity, and then can’t stop thinking about. Weirdly enough, listening to it now feels like reconnecting with an old friend who’s still full of surprises.
Oh, and here’s the kicker—I swear the bassline in "L’Espwah!" sounds like it could’ve been ripped straight from a modern indie dance track. Coincidence? Probably. But it’s moments like that which remind me why digging through old albums is always worth it.
