Welcome yet again to Split Record Review, where we’re reviewing the newest album from a fairly new four-piece from England, Yard Act. Their 2024 sophomore effort with four singles out of the 11 total tracks is called “Where’s My Utopia?” It’s evident they found some level of paradise recording this record because vocalist James Smith often flaunts how it feels that he doesn’t have a job and is just having fun making music and performing it. Although James hadn’t heard of them until recently, Henry went to see them on tour and the show compelled him to suggest this record for the week! What do these writers have to think?
Henry’s Review:
At first glance, the term “dance punk” might sound like something of an oxymoron. In the world of punk rock and its derivatives, dancing takes a whole new form compared to the extravagantly sleazy discos of the 1970s and ‘80s. Despite disco and punk’s opposite ends, crossovers of the two have been around since almost the beginning of the two genres.
Groups like Television and Devo have been crafting strange fusions of post-punk, disco and synth pop since the late ‘70s. In the 2000s, dance punk had an unprecedented resurgence with bands like LCD Soundsystem and Franz Ferdinand.
Boring exposition aside, one band from Leeds has been churning out endless memorable tunes with aggressively funky cynicism. Yard Act, formed in 2019, has been on the forefront of post-punk in the U.K. since then.
The group’s debut record, “The Overload,” was lauded after release for its fresh take on post-punk and new wave mixed with biting political commentary. Their lead singer, James Smith, isn’t much of a singer most of the time. A good chunk of Yard Act’s music features Smith rambling and raving about everything from U.K. politics to the state of music. His stereotypically thick British accent only adds to the humor of it all, crafting a feverish sound that’s equally hypnotic and thought-provoking.
In early 2024, the group would release their second album, and the feature of this “Split Record Review,” “Where’s My Utopia?” While their debut record stayed mainly within the post-punk sound, their follow up took a massive leap.
“Where’s My Utopia?” leans heavily into the disco sound that occasionally cropped up on “The Overload.” The album’s lead single, “We Make Hits,” is a perfect example of their sound. Featuring a bouncy bassline and orchestral synth pad, Smith rambles about the hypocrisy associated with being an anti-capitalist and the lead singer of a popular band. In fact, most of the vocals on this album sound almost improvised, like someone recorded a random drunk person in a British pub.
“The Undertow” features spiraling orchestral runs and a combination of 808s and acoustic drums. While it’s one of my least favorite tracks on the album, there’s still a few lines from Smith worth a chuckle or two. “Dream Job” is very reminiscent of Parquet Court’s “Wide Awake!” It contains almost no punk elements at all, save for a few driving guitars that crop up here and there. It’s one of the shortest tracks, at just over three and a half minutes, but contains one of the most memorable hooks on the entire record.
“Petroleum” features a driving buzz-saw bassline and fuzzy guitars that cut through the mix, and even a small breakdown towards the end of the track. Though it’s a standout track, it’s not one that I find myself revisiting as much as the rest of the record. “When the Laughter Stops” has guest vocalist Katy J Pearson on the hook, with a classic four-on-the-floor drum pattern in almost every classic disco song. The outro features a spoken soliloquy from “Macbeth.” The reason still eludes me, but it’s an intriguing way to end a song.
“Grifter’s Grief” could be easily played at any dance club in the U.K. or at CBGB in New York City. It has one of the most memorable hooks on the record and manages to be poppy but unique in its own weird way.
“Blackpool Illuminations” takes the album to a screeching halt. Much of the track is close and intimate. Serving as almost a therapy session for Smith, he tells the story from his early childhood for seven minutes straight. His narration slowly begins occurring in rhythm with the rest of the track, as an orchestra swells up under the band’s repetitive riffs. At about five-and-a-half minutes in, the track takes a sharp turn. The orchestra kicks back in for one grandiose swell before cutting out and returning to the band’s mellow backing.
“A Vineyard for the North” is a good closer, however when I listened to this album for the first time I was still reeling from the previous track. It starts as almost purely electronic, before exploding into the standard Yard Act affair towards the latter half.
“Where’s My Utopia?” grew on me exponentially more after seeing Yard Act live recently. “We Make Hits” had already been one of my favorite songs of 2024, but after seeing most of this record live, it’s been in almost constant rotation since. I suspect this one will end up on my yearly album roundup.
Rating: 4.5/5
James’ Review:
Looking like an album cover from The Smile, I knew this: “Where’s My Utopia?” would be good, despite only knowing a song or two from the group previously. I was instantly in awe of the introductory track, “An Illusion,” with James Smith’s effortless delivery and punky instrumentation, though the former is a critique of mine later..
We get to hear Smith for a little over 30 seconds on this track before an instrumental bridge breaks out with flutes. Following this, he drops a seemingly non-sensical line out of the vein of Beck, “A cactus in a snap-back riding a BMX atop bubble lettering that reads ‘Venice.’” A loose rhyme scheme is there just to sound pleasant right now but becomes more important in the subsequent songs that sometimes sound reminiscent of The Beastie Boys or — considering one of our recent reviews — the rapping on King Gizzard the Lizard Wizard’s albums. The song rides out with “I’m in love with an illusion / Where’s that utopia I promised ya?” This is usually a signifier of a brewing concept album, though whether the band follows through with one is up to debate.
Yard Act announcing an international tour for their new album “Where’s my Utopia” on Instagram.
“We Make Hits” is a definitive dance-punk cut of theirs utilizing a funky bassline, an infectious chorus and what sounds like a vocoder, not a surprise given the various vocal manipulations throughout the record. “Down by the Stream” has an equally palpable energy, this time with record-scratching and off-cadence verses from Smith, until the music stops, as he describes his vendetta against bullies and the measures he would take to ensure his son never becomes one.
“The Undertow” features Smith’s most impassioned vocals yet which, even if it’s stylistic, he often comes off like he can’t be arsed to be on the microphone, so this is a nice showing from him. The lead single, “Dream Job,” by way of its grooviness and the music video, is a disco-esque banger. Grungy guitars and instrumental breakdowns on “Fizzy Fish” are akin to Tropical Fuck Storm, a similar punky group I wanted to bring up in a previous review. I enjoy the descent into madness at the end of this song, Smith mentioning, “I’m accident-prone / So sling addiction and a kid in just to sweeten up the mix.”
“Petroleum” has some nasty guitar licks and a delightfully melodic chorus when bell noises sync with Smith’s gentle “boom-boom, ba-ba-ba-boom.” Katy J Pearson prominently provides much-needed female vocals to turn the band’s dynamic into that of a modern-day Talking Heads of sorts. The last few lines are delivered by Smith in a deep and magisterial voice like he’s narrating something. And I always enjoy the contrast of a song’s upbeat sound with less enthusiastic lyrics, but “Grifter’s Grief” repeats the chorus abundantly and is a little too bubbly for my nihilistic self.
“Blackpool Illuminations” is quite graphic and elaborate about a story when Smith was younger. I can’t quite understand who and what it’s about, though it’s probably better you sit through it yourself if you’re interested. The delivery begins like a song from The Clientele or Tindersticks when he suddenly starts taking in rhythm with the drums and flute. It’s definitely a song for a certain type of downtrodden day. Smith sounds equally somber on “A Vineyard for the North,” yet the chorus is uplifting when he states, “I wanna buy a few acres, live off the fat of the land.” He answers the question prompted by the album’s title on the previous song, but that sounds like a utopia to me.
This is one of those albums where I appreciate its brilliance, though how much I’ll return to these tracks or not skip them on my mega playlist is up for debate. Over the past day, however, I’ve ruminated over it and have come to treat it like an IDLES record, one of their contemporaries that I happen to love. Even though these guys only have two albums, they have a bright future and apparently have been touring according to Henry. They must have put on a jolly good show to warrant writing about this record, so I’d keep my eye on them!
Rating: 4/5