Yama Rama: Finding Light in the Darkness

Blending psychedelic rock with gut-punching honesty, Scottish trio Yama Rama aren’t just making music — they’re building a world of emotional gravity, sonic experimentation, and raw catharsis. Originally the solo project of Charlie Clark (formerly of indie-pop group Astrid), the band evolved into a dynamic collaboration with Gill and Craig McIntyre, finding their stride in lush arrangements, introspective songwriting, and electrifying live shows. Their latest single, “Smoky Mountain”, a reimagining of a track by LA cult hero Matthew Teardrop, serves as a perfect entry point into Yama Rama’s universe — where sorrow meets transcendence, and everything, from personal loss to puppet animation, has a place.

We caught up with Charlie to talk about the band’s journey, the power of live performance, and the emotional pulse that runs through everything they create.

“Smoky Mountain” is originally by Matthew Teardrop — what drew you to that song, and how did it evolve into something distinctly Yama Rama during the recording process?

Matt is a friend from my LA days, and his band Manhattan Murder Mystery are honestly my Beatles. He used to play my acoustic night Mad For Sadness in Echo Park and I always felt his lyrics hit like Townes Van Zandt or Hank Williams. Smoky Mountain was one of the covers I’d play when Yama Rama was just me, and when Gill and Craig joined, it became part of our live set. By the end of that tour it had fully transformed — it now sounds like us.

The band’s name fuses ideas of death, justice, and divinity — how do those themes play out in your songwriting, particularly in light of the emotional intensity that runs through your music?

These songs have been written in real time. In the last few years, I lost both my parents and went through some really difficult personal stuff. Writing as it all happened was my way of processing. I’ve come to see the beauty in life’s ugliness — the duality of joy and pain, light and dark. That’s what Yama Rama means to me: not denying the darkness, but trying to walk through it with some kind of grace or faith.

You’ve described live shows as intimate yet electric — how does the dynamic between the three of you shape the energy onstage, and how has touring influenced the way you approach recording?

Touring brings us closer and hones everything. As a trio, we give each other space to shine and then come back together to create something bigger. We’re dynamic — it can get really loud, really intense. When we got back from a recent tour, we went straight into the studio to track Smoky Mountain. We were locked in from playing so much, so it just made sense.

The video for “Smoky Mountain” features traditional Estonian puppet animation — what was the thinking behind pairing that particular visual style with the track?

One reason? We didn’t want to be in it! But seriously, I’ve loved Rao Heidmets’ work for a while, and his film The Pearlman really captured the melancholic atmosphere of our version. We were lucky Rao let us use it. We’re always looking to collaborate with other artists — Olya Dyer, who plays in The Underground Youth, designs all our sleeves. It adds another layer to what we do.

Your work spans personal loss, societal critique, and psychedelic soundscapes — how do you strike that balance between introspection and sonic experimentation without losing the emotional core?

We rehearse quietly in Gill and Craig’s front room — no volume, just the bones of the song. That lets us dig into every part. Gill has been huge in helping craft our sound, and Craig brings these amazing arrangements. Once we have the structure down, the song tells us where to go. Sometimes that means stripping it back, sometimes turning it up to eleven — but always in service of what the song needs to say.