More about: Yard Act
Not unlike a fresh layer of snow suddenly and unexpectedly appearing overnight, the Yard Act promotion machine has suddenly gone into overdrive. If you work in London, you may have seen the posters for the Leeds-based four piece’s debut album The Overload everywhere. At almost every Tube station our Northern Line train stops at, the posters are there, proclaiming the arrival of 2022’s first big indie guitar album. By 10am, we're chatting to the band's frontman James Smith.
As the saying has it, it takes years of work to make an overnight success, and that’s pretty close to the story behind the irresistible rise of Yard Act. Most unlike their relatively sudden arrival in the mainstream music industry, Yard Act’s work has been fizzing away mainly online, building momentum in a thoroughly organic, word-of-mouth manner.
The fact, therefore, that Yard Act are now officially a Big Deal, will not be a surprise to those keeping track of their development via Dark Days EP and various rather ingenious videos — especially the car boot sale rampage crated for the album title track. But it is still remarkable.
The foursome have a jagged, raw and utterly undiluted feel to their music, one that the world has noticed has parallels with The Fall but also the spiky, dislocated pop of fellow Leeds group Gang of Four. Not only that, but the subject matters that Yard Act deal with are confrontational and at the very least political with a small 'p'. Smith may share a surname — as well as a sometimes manic megaphone vocal technique — with his Fall namesake, but where Mark E Smith tied up his meanings in riddles and barely comprehensible stream of consciousness, at least part of the Yard Act appeal is the vivid storytelling.
Rather than sloganeering, Smith puts across his points by sketching all too familiar characters, from the Status Quo-wearing pub bore full of advice for the band on ‘The Overload’ to the unbearable amateur landlord on non-album single 'Fixer Upper’ moving in on your neighbourhood.
Once Smith materialises at a punctual bang on 10am, sat on a sofa at home in Leeds, it soon becomes clear that in person he’s very different from the character he appears to be on stage and in those videos, always leaning in close to the camera to address you in person, mouth firing off at the speed of a cheetah. The real Smith is calm, erudite and happy — at least this morning he is.
“Yeah, I’d been told they’ve started going up…” he says with evident satisfaction when we pass on the news that London has been generously plastered with adverts for The Overload. After the inevitable struggles and battles against considerable odds, how does it feel to have reached that first plateau of genuine success?
“I’m just enjoying the ride,” he smiles. "You do it because you like playing music — well, you love playing music, and it brings something to your life that you need in it. But it makes it easier when everyone’s saying nice things about it and you’re getting to play to crowds of people: it makes it more worthwhile, so it’s great.”
Unlike so many bands, who seem to have little or nothing to say and are often more concerned with career prospects, Yard Act seem like a band whose mission is to get a message across rather than simply make money. Smith agrees, although he’s having nothing bad said about the so-far relatively modest but noticeable financial success they’re starting to enjoy.
“Oh, no definitely not,” he counters when the idea of careerism is mentioned, but admits that it has its benefits. “Money helps in that it brings me a sense of calm, you know,” he admits. “Success and attention mean interest which means we can carry on doing it. It’s nice to contribute something, you know. I think people write music for different reasons: you don’t always have to say something without knowing you’re saying it. You can do it for yourself and some people might enjoy it passing by.”
For Smith, though, the way he describes the writing process is almost like a necessity, a moment of therapy, than anything else. “It’s always been cathartic for me,” he says, “It’s an exercise for me to learn more about myself by writing and so being able to do it all the time is really fun because I’ve got a lot going on in my head.”
The songs on The Overload certainly give that impression — of a brain packed with ideas bursting out almost involuntarily.
“It’s quite exhausting, quite tiring If I don’t put it down on paper and say it down a microphone then I do tend to lose focus on doing normal things like making a cup of tea or doing my daily errands. It’s like a refresh button, writing, for me.”
The stories on The Overload — the debate about growing lettuces in potholes on ‘Payday’, for example — seem to be very much a product of the post-Brexit Boris years, with all their bullshit, bluster and cultural warfare. Interesting times to be living — and writing — in, no doubt. Has he been enjoying the slow puncture of the Boris years by the relentless drip, drip of the Partygate leaks?
“Well, I’m not holding my breath,” he laughs sardonically. “I don’t even know what’ll happen with it. I mean, it looks like he’s going, and there’s a victory in that but in another sense it’s entirely depressing that the cycle will continue with something new. People just having a go at running the country because they feel entitled to.“
There are some pretty scary looking contenders waiting to take over if he falls, too – and yes, we do mean you, Patel, Raab and Gove. “It doesn’t feel like we’re at a turning point beyond him leaving yet: there doesn’t seem to be any other plausible alternatives really. I know it feels like the public has turned on Boris Johnson now but it is still surprising how anti- Labour a lot of people seem to be. And there doesn’t seem to be any great momentum behind what Labour are offering either.”
With the first-past-the-post system meaning a relatively small number of middle of the road swing voters will always hold the balance of power, Smith isn’t looking to it to change the world. But neither has he lost hope, preferring to fix his gaze on a much bigger future shift. He believes, to borrow the sickly theme of a well-known Whitney Houston song, that the children are our future.
“We’re at a turning point in the way the world’s going to work. You just really never know what is around the corner. Brexit seemed so overwhelming and significant – and it is significant – but in the same breath no-one could predict the pandemic and the way that changed everyone.
“I have faith in the kids. They’re way more switched on than anyone gives them credit for. My generation, the millennials, have been passed over really, so I see it as our job to help them, support them instead of telling them they’re wrong all the time.”
Perhaps Marc Bolan had it right when he said "you can’t fool the children of the revolution". In the meantime, whatever does await us around that corner, one thing is for sure: Yard Act are doing their bit to change the world right here, right now, winning over hearts and minds one song at a time.
The Overload is out now.
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More about: Yard Act