The Leeds rockers evolve once more; post-punk abrasion and disco-tinged groove are out, and it’s time for some britpop-fuelled nostalgia on their third LP.
If you want to demand immediate attention from the music press, then bursting onto the scene with a post-punk debut album which seems hellbent on satirising the absurdity of the UK’s social inequalities is a decent option. It’s been done plenty of times before, and yeah, often it works. Leeds based quartet Yard Act executed this to perfection when they announced themselves to the world with their salient debut The Overload in 2022. It was a direct, unsubtle arrival which turned heads, but not without its purist detractors.
Let’s be clear; Yard Act aren’t really breaking new ground. But considering that achieving genuine originality in alternative music is an elusive and often morally unfulfilling crusade, it’s perfectly reasonable to join the cyclical wagon-wheel of cultural pastiching and pursue a genre fusing sound which feels uncannily familiar. Bands don’t seem to care, and why should they? It seems far more energising to manufacture a musical identity which values playful satire over austere sincerity. Otherwise, you end up hopelessly lost in the doldrums of endless fretting about being labelled derivative of Arctic Monkeys, Oasis, Pulp or whoever else got there first.
Stylistically, Yard Act’s early material borrowed a lot from that era of songwriting. The Alex Turner method of social observation informed frontman James Smith’s lyricism, whilst his physical image seemed fashioned entirely in the mold of Jarvis Cocker. The endless introduction of flawed British stereotypes who are brought to life with vibrant colour gave their debut album a sense of lived experience, which in turn awarded it genuine authenticity. Even if it was a post-COVID rehash of something we’ve seen before, the sleek delivery and groovy instrumentals made it work, mostly.
Flash forward a few years; the Leeds quarter followed up their debut with 2024’s Where’s My Utopia, which saw Smith trade out the Alex Turner cosplay for another iconic frontman. Channelling the vocal energy of one Damon Albarn, Yard Act’s second album was a disco-driven synthy record which sounded suspiciously imitative of Gorillaz early work. It’s probably no surprise that it was produced by group affiliate Remi Kakaba Jr. For a band who broke through to the mainstream later than most, they seemed totally unfazed by the obvious blurring of originality with genre-offshoots.
On You’re Gonna Need A Little Music, the musical wagon-wheel spins a bit further. But if anything, Smith and co have revisited Albarn’s other project on their latest musical metamorphosis. Blur, Oasis, and rest; the golden age of Britpop seems to be the dominant influence here. Lead single New Beginnings has the sort of familiar head-bopping rhythm and chanty lyricism that wouldn’t sound out of place on What’s The Story. Meanwhile, Talky Talky People has a classical Blur-like playfulness as the quartet harmonises over an upbeat rhythms.
Elsewhere, Thrill Of The Chase realigns the energy in showcasing an old-school Arctic Monkeys style garage-rock beat; it’s yet another retread, but it does sound awesome. Closing track Over The Barrel builds its way to a satisfying conclusion as brass instruments come together in a triumphant ascendency. It’s reminiscent of something, sure.
With their third LP, Yard Act proves there’s another dimension to their constantly evolving vehicle of sonic masquerading. And perhaps this is something we should be celebrating? Considering they approach their craft with a humorous edge that shields them from overt sentimentality, it’s difficult to listen to their unquestionably catchy music and not crack a wry smile. Even if at times it feels overly familiar, the gravitational pull of the ironic humour is strong enough to get sucked inwards, for better or for worse. And thus far, it’s been the former. Long may it continue.
