Two Decades On, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah Still Have Something to Say

Have you heard of Clap Your Hands Say Yeah?

It’s a question I asked several friends and family members before attending the Philadelphia band’s Oxford Art Factory performance last Wednesday, November 5. Most hadn’t, and each time I would be prompted to deliver the spiel –

In 2005, amidst a wave of art-rock rolling out of America (The Strokes, Arcade Fire, Modest Mouse), the breathtaking falsetto and lo-fi home-recorded music of Alec Ounsworth and his project, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, rose to the fore.

The band’s self-titled debut album instantly turned heads. Major critics sang its praise, with music review juggernaut Pitchfork delivering it a rare nine out of ten, and the American National Public Radio (NPR) calling it one of the most important albums of the 2000s.

Their 2007 debut Australian tour saw the band take the stage at Splendour in the Grass, The Zoo in Brisbane, Melbourne’s Max Watts, and Sydney’s Enmore Theatre to a consistently resounding audience. At the time it seemed Clap Your Hands Say Yeah would be a name recognised and admired for years to come.

Though now, 20 years later, with the anniversary show of this famous debut moved from Metro Theatre to the smaller-capacity Oxford Art Factory, I could not help asking myself: what happened?

As he took the stage with his three band members in tow, the first half of the performance felt as if Ounsworth was asking the same question.

At times the delivery of the debut songs seemed more like a contractual obligation than a celebration of the record.

Of course, the band still delivered the old hits with a rocking energy. Famous riff followed famous riff. Harmonica squealed atop driving guitar, and dancing drums collided with catchy synth melodies. And – often with his hands around the microphone, caressing lyrics before letting them free to the room – Ounsworth’s remarkable voice soared with a palpable urgency. Pockets of older audience members roared with excitement, and we were consistently reminded of how exceptional the songwriting on this album was.

Yet, as this half of the performance ended and Ounsworth transitioned (with a fitting solo rendition of Johnny Thunders’ You Can’t Put Your Arms Around a Memory) into songs written in the years after, I could not help but notice a relieved demeanour come over him.

These later songs had not been received with nearly as much critical adoration as his debut work. In a field where success is so tied to critical opinion, this had meant the buzz around the band subsequently dissipated. Yet, as an artist must do, over the past 20 years Ounsworth has continued to reliably write and release a brand of music which – as I watched him launch into this later catalogue – he is adamantly proud of.

In every song that came next: Ketamine and Ecstasy, A Chance to Cure, Better Off, Satan Said Dance, and a beautiful rendition of 2021’s Where They Perform Miracles, a raw emotion poured from Ounsworth’s performance that could only exist for lyrics an artist has a strong attachment to.

Now, days later, still obsessively re-listening to Clap Your Hands Say Yeah’s recent catalogue, it is clear this is a band not defined by the legacy of an album released two decades ago, but a project with legs that continue to run.