‘Dark Days’ visits the internal meanderings of the post-pub pedestrian through to the presence of police-state paranoia.
Words by Rob Broadbent
All too often in the pursuit of new music I find myself swimming in a sea of guitar-led bands, and whilst my record collection from 2019 onwards is far from void of decent lyricists, they’re certainly a hard species to find – like snow leopards hiding stealthily within a complex sonic landscape, only seen to those who go out and really look for them; but in Yard Act we have something different, a front man who is less elusive snow leopard, and more Simba’s return to pride rock.
With a highly anticipated album surely on the horizon, Dark Days is our fourth musical exposure to the Leeds outfit and completes a four-track EP of the same name. As with their preceding releases (Peanuts, Fixer Upper and The Trapper’s Pelts) the single is a tapestry of incisive, observational and often cynical lyricism. This time it’s punctuated with perhaps their most infectious chorus yet, all tied together by some four to the floor wizardry which will surely open the door to hordes of listeners who are ready to be enraptured by real life anecdotes that, given the times we’re in, are already tinted with a hint of nostalgia.
The single’s release last week was twinned with a live recording, and the performance exudes just as much vim and candor as the record. The cold reality in basically every single line ever so sincerely spat out by vocalist James Smith; from the internal meanderings of the post-pub pedestrian through to the presence of police-state paranoia. “All my ideas are borrowed but there never half-baked / they’re hard to swallow but hey! I’m an acquired taste”, perhaps a wink and a nod to Roxy Music’s Love is the Drug, perhaps not, either way I’m going to be learning the words and dancing to this one when I get out the shower and if you’re reading this, you’ll probably be doing the same in the near future. Oh and buy the record here. Find the band on Spotify here.