Throw around the term pop-rock and the mind initially goes to some sort of middle of the road, fashion-driven dross that neither delivers the immediacy of the former nor the integrity of the later. But what if there was a way of taking the instant hook and inherent melody of a pop approach and weld it onto a more robust rock vehicle. Surely anyone who could do that would be carried head high through the streets, would be called saviours, the rainmakers of this current music drought, would be regarded as heroes and brave cross-genre gene splicers of the modern musical age. Or if you are looking for a more modest title you could just call them Yam Haus.
It is these perfect weaves of pop infectiousness, rock muscle and no small amount of indie cool that defines what they do so well. West Coast is the perfect sound of the summer, something perfect to tide us over until the sun comes back (I’m writing this in England to a background beat of driving rain) and the title track that kicks things off is a groovesome beast to say the least. But they also show their ability to move into more gentle sounds with the seductive tones of Right Here, Forever, the cinematic soul of We Are The Storm and the stadium ready expansiveness of Carry Me Home.
Yam Haus have presented a debut album that has the potential to be all things to all people. It rocks, it grooves, it is funky, soulful, it is eminently danceable and effortlessly stylish. Not only does it mean that they have the widest potential fanbase available to them but on the strength of Stargazer predicting what they do next is no easy task. Who needs predictability and conformity when you have Yam Haus?