Even when they take themselves most seriously, Yard Act are never self-serious. Despite focusing primarily on the pitfalls of living your “dream career”—almost new territory for the second album of a band that's breaking out, whether you know yourself or not—Where is my Utopia? manages enough genuine pop finesse and laugh-out-loud glee not to rub off on cliché. On the raucous “We Make Hits,” Smith traces the band's origin story, poking fun at their willingness to sell out with an anthemic, clapping chorus that gleefully appropriates the maximalism of indie sleaze. (And if it's not a real hit, Smith says, “We were being ironic.”) The more downbeat, grunge-y “Petroleum” refers to an infamous 2023 incident in which Smith turned on his unreceptive crowd during of a show in the UK seaside town of Bognor Regis. It might not be the most likable premise—the successful rock frontman belatedly feels bad for alienating his audience—but the song's relentless groove and layers of Auto-Tuned vocals tell a physical story about the stress of maintaining a public image.
Where Smith is most compelling, however, is where he turns his attention to more tangled issues that resist simple analysis. On “Down by the Stream” he takes a scathing look at his own history as a childhood bully over a hip-hop beat. Halfway through, the song erupts into a cavernous, offbeat reflection on the cycle of abuse, brimming with confusion, anger and regret. The highlight of the record is “Blackpool Illuminations,” Smith's oral history of a childhood injury sustained at the northern English seaside town's annual seaside show. Clocking in at over seven minutes, featuring jazz flute, stretched funk bass and cinematic strings, Smith's existential magnum opus takes a journey from his childhood to his new role as a parent to his son.
“Are you making this up?” asks a skeptical therapist, also played by Smith, towards the end of the song. “Well, some of them, yes, why?” responds. Smith may have abandoned his trench coat in favor of a more honest self-portrait, but the line between authentic self and larger-than-life character remains defiantly blurred.
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