Never has there been a worse time to miss a homecoming show than a prestigious return to Leeds for Yard Act. Their work alongside English Teacher was by all accounts a monumental experience, an unnerving process which rips away the nerve-wracking expectations of a new band. Album two is in their hands, Where’s My Utopia? a stunning piece of work not just for the cover (ta for the logo, Well Dweller), but for its potent and heartbreaking adaptation of life in the UK. It is not a pretty time but what a beautiful, warm show James Smith and the gang put on for the Øyafestivalen crowd. They have expanded to a superb collection of seven outstanding members, with backing vocalists, dance numbers and instrumental bliss. It showcases their confidence – a massive build from the last time seeing them when a wine-drinking injury occurred.
But we heal and Yard Act does too. They have grown and grown, and the tribulations of the road and its impact on their setlist are noticeable. The Trenchcoat Museum is elongated with great effect, frontman James Smith mashes buttons like us parasites at home trying to come up with the right words to understand his art. He provides a fine line between tenacity and terror, the sort of performance any great frontman should aim for. Yard Act has blossomed well with their second album and made the required additions to make their classic works. Make no mistake, it is not too early to call Yard Act’s work the defining efforts of generational anger. They prove as much here.
The best working frontman of the contemporary UK scene swings at hit after hit with a compact and quality set of musicians around him. Yard Act has earned its stripes and adapted its earliest works. Dark Days and The Overload are given the funk and soulful spin needed for this new sound. Sam Shipstone is an exemplary guitarist, and his leading charm on the likes of Dead Horse or the relaxed foundation he makes up on 100% Endurance is fantastic. They would be nowhere without the pace and rhythm set by Ryan Needham and Jay Russell on bass and drums respectively. Core elements essential to the immediate joys of seeing Yard Act live. But there are new and effective layers for this touring troupe and the additions of Lauren Fitzpatrick and Daisy J.T Smith are a real joy. It is a clear and bold new step for the band, and it works in their favour.
If you saw just one act at Oya Festival, make sure it was Yard Act. Hindsight is a beautiful thing, but we can reflect and remind ourselves of the future. Yes, on par with Pulp. Put aside your favouritism. Show some love for the band you saw, shy as anything, in a basement in Newcastle. Now look at them. Smith spitting water into the air like a wrestler on the ropes, waxing lyrical of how life is so beautiful, and his truth is found in our love. It would be easy to write off Yard Act as cultural raconteurs, but they are so much more than that. Holding faith in the crumbling world around them with an honesty now lacking in wider releases, Yard Act is as joyous and fulfilling a watch in person as they are when listening to their records in the early hours of some Thursday morning.
