Yard Act is in the business of making hits. They had plenty pouring out of their debut record, The Overload, though the tap cracked off the wall for upcoming second round Where’s My Utopia?. We Make Hits, the latest single from the four-piece, has all the jagged fascinations featured on Petroleum and Dream Job. Experimental and ranged, James Smith and the gang cast the net wider and wider as they hope to pool new treasures to tinker with. Cobbling together some hip-hop influences as they walk listeners through the process of making those songs which move the mind, We Make Hits is far from a hit. Those primary school music classroom lyrics noting the back of the bus and cobbled-together songwriting feel self-referential but lack the punch of the autobiographical style.
But if Yard Act wants to shed its post-punk image, We Make Hits is the perfect chance to do so. It does not seem as though they are too committed to doing this, what with The Trench Coat Museum and Dream Job still featuring some of the finer, slicker, darker moments which The Overload polished up for the group. Even then their spectacular and shockingly fun rise to where they are now, the unlikely lads from Leeds, are still reliant on those same exciting tricks. Spoken word interludes from Smith as he reminds us of the luck there is to making these hits and a neat dance-like number filled with synth and starry-eyed expectations of the future. We Make Hits has it all but cannot quite cobble the pieces together.
Never quite convincing of its big box of fun, We Make Hits is still a solid track for Yard Act fans to sink their teeth into – plenty of range is always a positive thought beyond its desire to fit the ambitions of their dreamy past – We Make Hits cannot quite bring itself together. They commit to the mantra of hit-making, and more power to them. Yard Act has taken a darker, deeper look at themselves as they chart their second record but comes out the other end still trying to cling to the spot-checks of pub culture which shot them into the stratosphere. Their self-referential moments, the boys in the back of a ban scribbling away on what they think could be the difference maker, feel half-baked and reduce the need for Sam Shipstone to work his magic on guitar.
Different is good. Change is good. Yard Act has swung high and wide for their upcoming record, and We Make Hits is proof enough of this. Not every track needs to hit and swing with the sincerity The Overload and its cultural commentary had, and the neat coax of those similar tones on Dream Job was a smart move. Whether it works for We Make Hits depends on the love or hate for this glitzy showcase – a can-do attitude at the heart of this one makes it hard to dislike, and the mixing throughout is rather charming in the Petroleum similarities which saw Smith and company dressed as pop stars of the past. We Make Hits is a reconstruction of what can no longer be done – chart success which topples the world, those days are over, and the more We Make Hits goes on, the more it feels like a lament to them.
