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Review: Yard Act at Freo.Social

Yard Act at Freo.Social
w/ Humble Armada
Sunday, November 17, 2024

For any Perth fans that caught Yard Act’s sweltering 3pm set at Laneway Festival early last year, it should have been Priority One to see them once more whenever they hit Australian shores.

‘Whenever’ ended up being last Sunday at Freo.Social, but the band that returned—this time in support of their second studio album Where’s My Utopia?—was not the same Yard Act from almost two years prior.

No, this was a band both willing and able to utterly roar through a cover of Motorhead’s Ace of Spades for an encore with so much energy, ferocity, and explosive sonic power that would have you thinking it was day one on tour.

This was Yard Act, enhanced, and it was utterly unforgettable.

First, Perth-based openers Humble Armada set forth with a selection of songs primed for the edge-of-summer atmosphere, their surfy/shoegaze sound both assured and accessible, sitting in the shades somewhere around Real Estate, Pond, and recent Fontaines D.C., but with a little more pace. They’d be the perfect band to see at the Indi Bar, which is exactly where you’ll find them playing this Friday, November 29.

Yard Act

Then, from the moment Yard Act rolled out to the well-received war chant of AC/DC’s Thunderstruck, the room felt as if it were in the hands of a band who had been at this together for fifteen years, not five.

Built around the casual idiosyncrasies of endlessly charismatic frontman James Smith, the Leeds-based post-punk rockers tore their way into Dead Horse, elevating what felt functional as an opener at first all the way to seeming like it was the last song they’d ever play live, largely thanks to guitarist Sam Shipstone shearing his way through some scintillating soloing right out of the gate. Drenched in sweat a mere four minutes in, his handlebar moustache and furious fingerwork conjured up shades of IDLES Mark Bowen in full flight.

From there, that musical confidence only grew through cuts like the bouncy Fizzy Fish and Land Of The Blind, where the addition of dual feminine voices in support of Smith’s sardonic wit and wordplay found the band feeling fully fleshed out as a complete package—an entire entertainment experience—one that invited laughter and dance moves in equal measure, particularly during the electronic-laden Dream Job.

Yard Act wanted the crowd involved—maybe not as involved as the lass waving her underwear at Smith somewhere near the Shakespearean section of When The Laugher Stops—but involved in making this show something unique to that Sunday night in Fremantle: from entertaining audience suggestions to “just play Wonderwall” to the shouts of “RICH” on Smith’s behalf during the track of the same name—which everyone never really got the hang of—all the way to stacking up on shoulders to sway to-and-fro during 100% Endurance.

Yard Act

The only mark against the show was the glaring omission of the band’s biggest song from their 2022 debut album, The Overload—though missing that record’s title track is hard to be sour about after witnessing the utterly off-the-rails The Trench Coat Museum, which ascended across its elongated runtime into a ballistic cacophony of wailing guitars and clattering percussion while Smith mashed away at his little electronic box of squiggly beeps and boops until it appeared the entire band had nothing left to give.

If one thing was for certain, it’s that the chorus of We Make Hits rings perfectly true. Yard Act make hits, and since the last time they performed here in Western Australia, they’ve found a way to get the most out of playing those hits live.

Maybe they found it in the radiant light and colour introduced in a solo setting at Freo.Social. Maybe they found it in the theatricality brought forth by the bubbly backup dancers. Maybe they found it staged somewhere that wasn’t outdoors smack-bang in the middle of summer. All those things build a better live experience, sure, but what appears far more likely is that Yard Act found their blistering new confidence in consolidating their identity as working class clowns with something to say and allowing themselves to thrive in the energy of their music and the passion of their pointed millennial politics.

And what remains most exciting is that there’s no ceiling in sight for where that confidence takes Yard Act next. Upwards, probably, so seek them out next time they hit West Australian shores, because there’s a good chance they somehow get better still from here.

BAILEY PARKINSON

Photos by Linda Dunjey

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