Photo: Niall Green
YAK's reputation as a live force came to the fore in 2015 when frontman Oli Burslem - backed by a propulsive rhythm section - would display the kind of mania you'd expect from Vines' Craig Nicholls. It was, and still is, breathtaking, and nerve-wrecking to watch him on stage.
The combination of the singer's stage presence, his knack for unruly ear worm riffs always delivered on the cusp of feedback, and hypnotic vocals caught the ear of Rough Trade management back in that year. From there they've worked in a couple of singles through indie label Fat Possum and Jack White's Third Man Records for 'No'.
In 2016, the debut album Alas Salvation followed and is one of the best albums of last year It’s our love of this record, Burslem's unhinged performances, coupled with the strength of new single ‘Sunshine In Your Life', that's brought us to this convereted warehouse in the heart of Shoreditch. And whilst the single is an exciting step forward creatively for Yak, it hasn’t prepared us for how markedly more powerful their live show has become.
Partly this is down to renewed emphasis on the set aesthetic. The band are stood underneath the faltering flicker of the red neon YAK neon sign that looks brilliant. It burns through the artificial fog and strobe; and looks like it’s been yanked from the strip in Vegas and dragged through the bushes to prop up an acid and amphetamine fuelled funeral to the American dream – and this added prop mixed with their polyamorous garage punk sound makes us feel far from East London
Helping induce the sense of escape among us is the near shamanic way in which the singer taunts his audience, and the overwhelming volume emanating from the backline. The band, evidently, aren’t the least bit subtle and appear to have traded production notes with Motorhead. The monstrous bass runs from new bassist Vinnie Davies couples with the singer’s cocktail of analog effected treble parts, and reverb strewn vocals, and are a chaotic thrill.
Their songwriting appears a thrilling post-modern roadtrip through the best American and British guitar music of the last 50 years. 'Take It' is particularly hook-y and indicative of some psych laden folk from the 60s, feel and is about as light as things get. But most of all it’s a highly charged punk onslaught, and the band appear to have been chipping away behind the scenes to create a tremendous sound. Alongside Telegram, they’re up there with the biggest chance of a band form East London who can do some damage internationally and reinstill the world's faith that those flitting about the Capital can still produce bands of the quality of greater decades, musically.
It’s the sense of genuine catharsis that helps them stand out. Rather than rehashing cool influences, Burslem appears to exorcise his feral soul, never once looking like he's going through the motions. Mediations on neglect and anxiety froth up. Even before he chants lyrics in a Modern Lovers/Morrison-esque way about going on binges for two to three weeks, it's clear that deprivation is of interest to this artist. As a performer who has dutifully exorsied the freedom that comes from being in a rock 'n; roll band, and evidently spent those sleepless nights bettering his art, he's a reminder of the thrill of living fast can provide. He also brilliantly reminds us of the unease that and distress on ones mental wellbeing it can provide: honest, adrenalised, provocative, it's definitely exciting to watch.
By the end of the set – after proving new material fits in alongside the Alas Salvation tracks – the singer's engaging in a primal exchange of energy with the moshers, and leaps into the crowd on multiple occasions before smashing up his amp. It’s refreshing to see this amount of sacrifice for a performance rather than those mock stage smash ups that seem to happen far too often. It's a complete, utter surprise and delight to see band get this good from what were already strong foundations. Long may they reign.
