The Yells

"What can you say about the Yells, a punk band with trumpet that time and time again define themselves as anything but “ska”? Well, for starters, you can say they rock. This young quartet’s frenetic live show is something of a rarity in Edmonton’s folk and low fi saturated music scene. Perhaps the most appealing aspect of the Yells is their accessibility. The boys walk a thin line between punk and garage, never truly falling into either category while satisfying fans of both."

- Vue Magazine

In sheer weirdness and punk originality, the Yells are Edmonton's own embodiment of Eastern Canada's "Fucked up"

-Paul Swanson, Jumpsaround Blog - Jumpsaround Blog

"How can you say no to a show driven by the high-impact energy of crack cocaine? Sure, it’s an unhealthy habit, but if you don’t leave a rock show with the feeling that your head was just shot out of a cannon, what’s the point? Actually we’re not convinced they smoke crack — despite what their MySpace page says. What we know for sure is that this Edmonton trio is relatively new to the scene and they’re working on their first album, which will hopefully be released a little later this year. Stay tuned, folks." - SEE Magazine

They may not be masked, tights-wearing vigilantes, but The Yells are pretty good at rolling with the punches and keeping themselves under wraps. A quick Internet search returns only a few matches for the group, but with the addition of their new bassist Tyler O’Reilly, a plan to play more shows, and a ten-song LP in the works, things could be changing soon.
“We’re kind of like newborn babies. We haven’t done a lot yet,” confesses drummer Adam Prins.
It’s a sunny and soggy Saturday afternoon and three out of four of the band members sink into one of the comfy couches at Remedy Café. Plates rattle and Eric Guilbert, the band’s trumpet player, sips coffee out of a mug adorned in coloured hearts. Along with three other bands, five DJs, and two dance crews, The Yells are set to perform and raise money for the Student Umbrella for Social Justice’s Dance Marathon for Human Rights.
“It’s 15 hours and you can actually bring teams to the event and collect pledges and dance all night. It’s like a walk-a-thon, but with dancing,” explains lead singer and guitarist Andrew Curley.
With the exception of O’Reilly, all of the members of The Yells are also students studying at the U of A and by now are accustomed to fighting off fatigue and pulling all-nighters. They’ll only be playing a one-hour set, but according to the band, they plan on spending the other 14 hours on their feet raising money for charities committed to environmental preservation and reducing poverty.
“I like the faux rope climb or the pepper grinder,” says Prins, dishing on his favourite dance moves and eliciting groans from his bandmates.
Curley describes the sound of the upcoming, as-of-yet untitled album as “garage-rock with a trumpet.” The record won’t be ready in time for the dance-a-thon, though the band pegs its release date at somewhere between one and two months away, promising that it’s worth the wait. In the meantime, The Yells can still be experienced via the fine art of the live show.
“My finger has exploded the last two shows and I painted blood across my guitar. It’s that sort of thing. I jump on the drum set. It’s a really good live show. If you don’t like our music, you’ll at least like our live show,” asserts Curley.
“[One fan] separated his shoulder dancing so hard,” laughs Prins. “Well, we didn’t give him the original injury, but we did freshen it up,” he clarifies. “I was proud of that.”
Otherwise, The Yells’ shows have been relatively injury-free, but that doesn’t mean the band isn’t willing to inflict a little pain on themselves. One of the tracks on the upcoming album called “Edward Fortyhands” regales their love-hate relationship with a drinking game of the same name. To play, a person must hold a 40oz bottle of malt liquor in each hand (usually secured with duct tape), temporarily losing the use of their digits until both are finished.
“By far one of my worst experiences ever,” groans Prins. “I swear Big Bear induces manic depression. I was so sad afterwards. Everybody hated me and I was all emo.”
Guilbert continues: “It was really gross. We were all puking. It was at Pigeon Lake and we were all drowning and dying.”
Yup, the life of the garage-rock musician is full of struggles, but it seems like The Yells are up to those challenges. Sometimes you’ve just got to suffer for your art.
- The Gateway