Yard Act, Victoria Warehouse. 13th November 2026

Brrrr it’s bloody cold out and it’s not too much warmer inside Victoria Warehouse as Silvergore attempt to warm us up with some eccentric synth-fused folk pop. It’s not for me, but they’re quite fun, some of it’s quite catchy and they go for it as the room fills up. I like them more at the end than at the start and that’s always a good thing. With the stage bathed red and some lovely brass setting the tone on the intro tape, the scene is set for Yard Act. They’ve always oozed confidence, but ‘Empty Pledges’ feels deadly defiant. A layered cacophony that both draws you in and gently threatens your life. Which will turn out to be a good set summary. The brass is back as a sax wails on ‘Human Sacrifice’ with James near spitting each lyric with a punk snarl. I like the new record, but ‘Cherophobe Rock’ doesn’t quite hit the spot live. It’s good, just not quite as visceral or well crafted as the songs that follow. “Do you want to have a good time?” James asks, “We’re doing our bit so it’s on you”, comes the challenge as the bounce kicks off for ‘Dead Horse’. They’re tight as fuck, but this loses none of its raw power. Sam’s fret-fucking the amp and that sax is loose and wild. Utterly brilliant. The leering menace of ‘Thrill of the Chase’ follows as the limbs start to fly in the pit. The whole room though is a bobbing mass as the lights explode and James attacks with not one but two mics. Indie disco banger ‘Payday’ marks the end of the opening assault as things slow down for a breather on ‘Janey Said’, with the piano taking the lead. The sound in here is better than I recall, either that or they just sound really good. This is not my favourite venue, but they make you forget any of its inadequacies. ‘New Beginning’s loungy groove eases us back in. This is a big room and not quite sold out, but the crowd are in fine voice. Yard Act are an energetic outfit and it fuels the room. With arch lyrics and solid indie punk pouring from the speakers on ‘We Make Hits’ they ooze swagger that’s ridiculously enjoyable. Sam plays his guitar on the uncompromising ‘Down By the Stream’ like he’s plugged the power cable up his arse, jerking and vibrating as he attacks the thing. Honestly they’re all fucking fun to watch. Raucous stuff. ‘Dark Days’ feels positively accessible in comparison. We’re in fan fave territory. It’s fast, funky and fabulous. It marks a gear shift as they go for the jugular, ripping through ‘The Overload’, which is dispatched at its now preferred furious pace, but still granting time for the mass singalong with pints thrust in the air. Live music is my medicine, my escape, I’m sure I’m not alone in this and this is what I’m thinking, just as they unleash ‘Youre Gonna Need A little Music’. I get chills. This is the moment, that point in a set when a band remind me just why I’m here. Fuck me it’s glorious. We’re only three albums deep, but the amount of great songs is remarkable and the breadth! ‘100% Endurance’ isn’t an obvious set highlight. It’s an album track really, but one that works stunningly well live, the crowd lap it up word perfect… and there are a lot of words, honestly I’m not sure how James keeps them all in his head. The appreciation shown in its breakdown is beautiful and telling. They are adored, with a clear sense that it’s mutual. ‘The Trench Coat Museum’ hits the gas, whilst that bassline keeps it solidly locked. The riffs are lethal as James teases with a box held to his chest, looping incomprehensible soundbites, before orchestrating the everyone get down, then jump back up trick. It’s old for sure and often a bit tiresome, but when done well, by a crowd willing to commit, it’s usually pretty fun. After these antics, it would make sense for this to be the pretend last song, but ‘Over the Barrel’ is given the honour and honestly it feels a bit flat. Well until its slightly unhinged coda rescues it. The feedback is left to run, so when they return with ‘Dream Job’ to encore, it doesn’t really feel like they’ve been anywhere. They’re a proper experimental melting pot of a band, anything goes and it really keeps you on your toes. As they close, they take us right back to the start with ‘The Trapper’s Pelts’ which still sounds monumental. Even with a prolonged interval to wish their photographer a happy birthday and let him drive a remote control car around the crowd with a GoPro strapped to it. And why not, that’s the kind of band they are, accommodating, slightly bonkers, bloody marvellous. Warmed me up nicely too!