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Though he is only young (A Youthful Dream is a fair title), it is nevertheless surprising that Mikkel Holm Silkjaer, main Yung man, has taken this long to produce a full-length album after the trail of DIY cassettes he’s left in his wake. It’s a well formed record, sounding properly produced but without losing the wild energy of the Yung. On Fat Possum.

Vinyl LP £16.99 FP15591

LP on Fat Possum.

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Vinyl LP £16.99 FP15594

Indies only COLOURED vinyl LP on Fat Possum.

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CD £9.99 FP15592

CD on Fat Possum.

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A Youthful Dream by Yung
2 reviews. Write a review for us »
7/10 Clinton 08 June 2016
I described Yung’s previous EP ‘These Thoughts Are Like Mandatory Chores’ as ‘ok'. ‘A Youthful Dream’ does a little bit here and there to make me more enthusiastic.   It is a thoroughly ‘ok’ well put together series of bratty punk blasts that have enough tuneage about them to be what I’d call Lamacq - ready. Their guitars are grey and sludgy, their songs show influence from all manner of pop and punk and emo types with shouty vocals and the odd unexpected time change to keep things interesting. ‘Uncombed Hair’ sounds like the Wedding Present if they’d emerged from some US midwest basement and spent their youth soaking up Minor Threat records. They know hoes to be acoustic too, ‘Morning View’ is bright and dainty with sunny side up guitars and a cheerier disposition but this album is mainly about the myriad ways in which Mikkel Holm Silkjær can find to unload his angst.   Even on pretty bits such as ‘A Bleak Incident’ where a two chord passage is built up to kind of Death Cab levels of pleasant emo, Silkjaer is still pset but this sets the stage for more variation in the album as Silkjaer starts to discover what he can do with his music. The churning guitars and piano of ’The Child’ which has a lovely '90s indie sound as doses the Smashing Pumpkins-like ‘Pills’ . The angst is always there but these latter tracks show Silkjaer breaking through the murk of his pop punk instincts to find something more plaintive and much more affecting. Despite the inward looking charm there's still enough verve to be sweaty basement-friendly. 

7/10 Heart & Hand jukebox jockey 15th February 2017

I'm home and sick... so I'm doing a few (super-novice) Norman Records customer reviews - partly to entertain myself, partly to earn some points and partly to save your soul! (apologies for the poor punctuation).

This review is my third. It is the first I've written where I actually looked up an LP rather than coming across one in the re-releases list - and notably, it comes a good six months after I saw this act live. Six months after my first bouts of listening to this album (that I pawed over on the train all the way home), bouts that have since become intermittent, distracted as I have been, of course, by new stuff from other corners of the globe...

. . . that globe, with my ears on it, has since traveled half a wide orbit of our sun in that time, spinning haphazardly from a weird, scorching, beer-soaked summer to the damp end of a grey and flu-plagued winter.

The listens do differ but only marginally (in the margins) -

The initial, blood-pumping delight of hearing this gang's pounding tom-drum and chiming guitars is still there. Frontman Shord's howl still heralds the arrival of a party, a gathering of late night fist-shakers and headbangers, smashing lamps to plunge the revelry further into darkness - that's all still there, and just as brilliant and contagious as before - but I definitely hear a little more space now - and I can only think that it is space that I must have glossed over before, no doubt impatiently awaiting the next furious adolescent blast of energy to flood me with memories of the magnificent brat I once was in my youth... (damn, if my friends and I had got our mitts on this LP back when we were still a free, nearly-good-looking bunch of precocious delinquents, we'd have played it nightly)

...I now appreciate these moments of space, of presumably, quite carefully measured restraint - perhaps they are what stop the snarling fury from becoming an unrelenting riot - possibly the riot I yearned mid 2016, it all seems a bit of a blur now.

Anyhow, this album (with its sickly-lit, green-room vase of roses on the cover) has a predominately moody fervour, a kind of gentlemanly angst - there may be a little venom to be found, but there's no spitting... with little focus on tricks or witty intellect, it is perhaps deceptively simple and cathartic, but it's certainly not crude in any way - so to summarise, I'd say quite confidently, that this band is all about "spirit" and I bet the crew at their hometown gigs would reflect that - I for one, would eagerly join the fold, Yung have stirred faith if not total devotion in this listener.



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