{"id":30917,"date":"2025-05-13T19:00:52","date_gmt":"2025-05-13T18:00:52","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.musicinleicester.co.uk\/index.php\/?p=30917"},"modified":"2025-07-04T12:29:15","modified_gmt":"2025-07-04T11:29:15","slug":"single-review-the-people-assembly-the-soup-of-yesterday","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.musicinleicester.co.uk\/index.php\/single-review-the-people-assembly-the-soup-of-yesterday\/","title":{"rendered":"Single review – The People Assembly, The Soup of Yesterday"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Released on 15\/05\/25<\/p>\n

Reviewed by Thomas Needham<\/p>\n

Any excuse for me to delve back into the twisted, cacophonic world of The People Assembly<\/a> is a pleasure, to be contacted directly by them to review their as-of-the-time-of-writing (February 2025) unannounced new single The Soup of Yesterday<\/em> is a privilege (and if one day I finally sell out and start taking bribes that\u2019d be proper wicked). I may be away for university with assignments inbound and personal projects on the go but I have to heed the gospel truth; you can take the man out of Leicester, but you can\u2019t take Leicester out of the man.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

If you\u2019ve been following The People Assembly recently, you\u2019ll know they\u2019ve been busy. When bionic-lizard-man Mark Zuckerberg isn\u2019t suspending their ad revenue, the band is in the studio preparing for their first release since 2024\u2019s Leicester City Council<\/em>. Without letting on too much, I can assure fans that you\u2019ll be eating good over the next year. \u2018Watch this space?\u2019 More like \u2018watch this post-space!\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

Dubbed The Soup of Yesterday<\/em>, some may recognise this single as the opener from their headlining gig at The Big Difference (link to our review here<\/a>), but if there\u2019s one thing reviewing a single has over a live set, it is being able to focus solely on the material. At their gig I was completely smitten by an hour of relentless, primal chaos. The entire show remains a fever dream to me, only now with new releases can I truly listen back to my bootleg recording and better appreciate what I witnessed. Now, adorning a dressing gown, a mug of good joe and a pipe in my dinky flat, far, far away from the scary mosh pits, I can focus my efforts on an individual song and this single, clocking in at over nine minutes, gives me plenty to sink my teeth into.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The track\u2019s message to me is a scathing condemnation of the backwards priorities of white saviorism and the fine line between altruism and self-imposed martyrdom. Perhaps the litany of corny bands that litter my \u2018for you\u2019 page these days have rendered my judgement impotent with its endless, vapid, twee real rebel ditties that are propa dutty yarr yarr but I sincerely believe The People Assembly are outstanding storytellers. Not only is Rowan Taylor\u2019s art striking, but there is a vision and underlying sincerity to the band behind the irony, one that means there is no esoteric pussyfooting to be found here, you have a tangible message to engage with; take it or leave it.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAlthough I sometimes I feel could run ahead,\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

I’d rather trip and fall with you all instead,<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

clean the grazes off my knees with all of you,\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

and make sure all your injuries are healing too\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

The faux-noble motivations of collective solidarity espoused by the narrator are quickly repudiated as the instrumental drags you beneath the surface – dark and foreboding, you feel an almost complete lack of agency as the guitar and bass draw you in. In much the same way the narrator of the song is, whether inadvertently or not, taking those around him for a ride, the band ensures the listener feels much the same way. Joel Page brings his characteristic blend of vocal intensity and emotional vulnerability. His stilted, monotonous delivery deprives the listener from hanging on to a harmless, pleasant melody; the message of the song is central, even accounting for the litany of new bells and whistles that the band showcases, everything is built around that goal.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cBreak my back so I can feel,<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

this is how we all shall heal,<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

because without you,<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

there is no me,<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

I need to help,<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

I need to help\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

The only way the narrator can empathise with the debilitating struggles people face in their daily lives is through demands of violent retribution against himself. It\u2019s a self-imposed, performative, almost ritualistic sacrifice that supposes only through metaphorical immolation can he find validation from others – something he is deeply dependent on to derive his own sense of identity and worth; \u2018without you, there is no me.\u2019 It\u2019s an artificial repentance that seeks to destroy, rather than to create. His conclusion that this is the only way forward is inherently paradoxical.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Notably, there is never a call to uplift one another, it\u2019s simply an outlet for self-destruction and victimisation. The recurring refrain of \u2018I need to help\u2019, especially the vocal emphasis placed on \u2018need\u2019 suggests the feeling to be an obligation rather than a conscious choice. There\u2019s a level of insincerity in the delivery; his desire to save the subject comes from a place of gross self-indulgence and ego, to grandstand and moralise about his own virtue rather than a true desire to bring forth material change.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSteal the straw that breaks my back,<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

the selfishness of selfless acts,<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

I’ll take the weight that’s mine to take,\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

I need to help,\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

I need to help\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

In the narrator\u2019s own neurotic, perverse sense of guilt and a deep-seated desire for significance, he demands to take on the burdens of those around him. His entitlement over the struggles of others make him just as much of a destructive force on those around him as the oppressive regime he seeks to oppose. He\u2019s a martyr of his own making, satiating his own sense of moral superiority to a point of pleading desperation. The narrator\u2019s feelings are fundamentally religious in nature, driven by guilt and his own inconsequentiality in comparison to the scale of not only the music\u2019s sound, but the world around him.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAlthough I know I cannot see through your eyes,<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

I’ll ache through a perspective that’s yours not mine,\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

and savour every second of hurt I can,\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

shouldering the weight of the righteous man\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

The shrill orchestral arrangement and the sustained, discordant drones of the guitar build in intensity as a brilliant showcase of a production more ambitious than anything The People Assembly have achieved thus far. As Nuala Harvey\u2019s haunting backing vocals, martial drumming and Harry Smith and Ewan Butter\u2019s unnerving orchestral strings march alongside the mantra; \u2018FIND A REASON TO DROWN\u2019, it becomes clear the suffering of others is superfluous to the narrator. Rather, he\u2019s desperate to use any and all excuses to wallow in his own feelings of inadequacy and guilt. You may drown together, but you\u2019re both still drowning, fat lot of good that\u2019s done.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The song abruptly recedes into a softer soundscape; contemplative and considered, there\u2019s beauty in its restraint, perhaps the most intimate The People Assembly have been since the outro of \u2018House Cave\u2019. For a band notorious for \u2018sending it\u2019 in terms of sheer sonic ferocity, it\u2019s a necessary and highly-appreciated change of pace; the song\u2019s troughs only accentuate its peaks. But there\u2019s no last trick up the narrator\u2019s sleeve, no resolution to the conflict, no heroic, soaring finale, as the song, once ear-splittingly thunderous, disintegrates into a tragic lament, only to suddenly shrink into oblivion. Promises made, promises broken.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

To surmise; the narrator spent all night crying and throwing up over [insert topical and divisive issue here] and he\u2019s 6 ‘4 by the way. I\u2019ve also been informed I don\u2019t use enough academic terminology in my work so brandishing my English Literature qualifications I can indeed confirm The People Assembly utilises the uhh- semantic field of society to highlight society bad.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The People Assembly have managed to replicate from their live sets, it is an all-enveloping, hypnotising allure. Their music is substantial both in sound and message, worthy not just of your time, but your active engagement, not for some musical-sycophantism but because they\u2019re bringing something new to the table and it’s unabashedly confrontational.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

In the studio the band are noticeably more adept since 2021\u2019s International Post-Space Station<\/em>. There is a greater degree of clarity, especially on this new single, that convinces me the group have plenty more to say. The Soup of Yesterday<\/em> is absolutely hulking but unlike The People Assembly\u2019s wider-catalogue, it isn\u2019t bursting at the seams – perhaps the band\u2019s restraint is a more damning condemnation of the song\u2019s narrator than otherwise. The perks of being too musically verbose to listen to in any other way than in the isolation of one’s own company, is you can bask in every single detail, from the slightest inflections of Page\u2019s vocals to the skittish orchestral embellishments. If you\u2019re looking for a song to listen to in the background, or indulge at a party, you\u2019re going to be disappointed. The People Assembly demands your sole attention.<\/span><\/p>\n

Recorded with award-winning producer Shuta Shinoda, there is a new layer of depth to The Soup of Yesterday<\/em>\u2019s lumbering ambition. While Andrew Bassett is given a large canvas to experiment, with his drumming driving the song’s emotional apex, by comparison Lewis Bates\u2019 on bass feels innocuously constricted by the insurmountable guitar work of Kai Roberts and Jake Skemp that make you almost delirious in their restlessness, frantically lurching up and down the fretboard, constantly in flux, never quite giving you time to breath until everything is pulled away and you are left with profound nothingness. The lack of focus given to the bass isn\u2019t particularly detrimental, I doubt a bass solo (ala. \u2018You Can Call Me Al\u2019) would have really done anything other than undercut the single\u2019s cautionary tale, just in comparison to their previous release Leicester City Council<\/em>, it’s a noticeable omission.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Speaking of previous singles, like Trojan Staffy<\/em> and Leicester City Council<\/em>, The Soup of Yesterday<\/em> lacks the overtly abrasive sound seen on cuts like French<\/em> from their debut record. By the very nature of singles, they are a gateway rather than an end unto itself, so to criticise a single for not being particularly repellent to ordinary sensibility would be futile. I don\u2019t see The People Assembly mellowing, if anything I\u2019m excited to see them given the freedom to continue challenging both the listener and the golden calf of radio friendly \u2018good music™\u2019 on a larger project, now accompanied by a massive wealth of experience to fully realise their ambitions. The Soup of Yesterday, to me, seems like a new jumping on point for those unfamiliar with the band, The People Assembly are well and truly back and their message is simple; get with it or get out of the way.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Good soup.<\/span><\/p>\n

If you\u2019re looking to support The People Assembly amid Zuckerberg-induced austerity, you can find them on every major streaming platform or buy their discography directly on Bandcamp. In March they have a series of live shows on the go;\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n