Rage and hope often seem to coexist as two sides of the same coin. To many, the former scorches, a destructive creature that chaotically eviscerates all in its path; a total antithesis to the sparkling, shining beacon of freedom that hope embodies. Yet Liverpool band Yee Loi seem to harness the former to fuel the latter, turning punk rock rage into music filled with conviction, energy and the determination to remain free, unfettered artists.

Case in point: in their newest release, “Social Suicide”, siblings Rose, Matilda and Don Don Farrell deliver an unflitered criticism of the psychological cost of social media, with unforgiving lyrics such as:

“It’ll never be the same / As your numbers rise / They prey on your brain until it’s not even there.“

However, when the siblings are asked about how their own approach to the social media rat race, Matilda eventually shrugs with a grin: “Touch grass.”

“It’s very Gen Z, that,” Rose shoots back.

There’s a breeziness with which the three of them are happy to quip, joke and rib each other, each earnest response balanced by another joke or witty anecdote. That humour, balanced well with the clear sense they know who they are and what they want to do with their voice is perhaps part of the reason that they’ve gained such a following already.

At their core they’re still three siblings who are enjoying their whirlwind journey in the industry, but who can also look closely at what troubles them and still find plenty to enjoy as artists and as people.

This careful balance can be heard in their songs: their discography contains a bevy of whip-sharp lyrics about feminism, social constructs and blind capitalism, with a particular eye for the absurdities and hypocrisies to be found in the world around us. Many a line is delivered with a glimmer in the eye and a sense of self-awareness that perhaps a little witty bite might be the best way forward.

That freedom to harness whatever emotions they feel – rage included – comes from their eclectic upbringing. Across their entire career they’ve had a lot to say, and with good reason. The siblings describe growing up without being encouraged to see their Chinese and Vietnamese heritage as something that set them apart, and their mother was determined to approach parenting differently to how she herself was brought up.

“She’s Scouse through and through,” says Rose. Asked whether they experienced pressure from their parents, the siblings explain: “My mum was raised like that, but she decided to be different to that.”

It’s no wonder, then, that they reflect on identity in their songs, from “Meet The Chows”, where they talk about their various cultural influences, and the very freedoms they were given to be imperfect. Elsewhere, tracks like “Dad’s Money” and “Oh Marilyn”, turn Yee Loi’s razor sharp focus onto the issues surrounding wealth, status and femininity.

“I just went on with myself about this before,” muses Rose. “But we tend to not just rage all the time. We just write about whatever we like really. So it’s never like, “Oh, we’re going to be hardcore like that.” But I think we’re some of the nicest women in rock because we seem to come across so many women who are also in the industry. It’s an uphill battle. We should all be in it together.

Up until extremely recently, I’ve been meeting bands that are like rock bands, young girls, even of Asian descent who wanted nothing to do with us, didn’t even want to talk about what the weather was like. I don’t know [if that’s] an English thing! … but it’s just strange to me that you wouldn’t want to unite together and be supportive of each other. So yeah, we feel strongly about that.”

There it is: a dash of hope. There’s something beautiful about rage born of the belief that things could be better, the kind that still hopes for better from the world, and wants to contribute something to it. In an era when this form of rage has never been more needed, Yee Loi’s sharp lyrics, bold guitar hooks and unforgiving nature creates messaging that always seems to be reaching out to the listener, yearning for us to not turn a deaf ear to what they have to say. This openness is particularly rewarding with a deeper delve into tracks such as “Welcome To The West”, “Down In The Bunker” and “Mystery Train” where their storytelling hits a particularly satisfying stride.

Entirely the domain of lyricist Matilda, the gothic nature of “Down In The Bunker”, a track that would be entirely at home on the soundtrack of many a Guillermo Del Toro film, brings to the fore such delicious descriptions as:

“…her life is in your hands / but not when she gets her revenge / and she said it’s just you and me / down here, my dead uncle rots asleep / now we’re three, now we’re three”

Far from that crypt, “Welcome To The West” pull us all the way back to their childhood in the California sunshine, where they used to spend six months out of the year. Beach Boys harmonies and Van Halen-style guitar playing colour a song about milkshakes, burgers and happy memories. “The lyrics are kind of like cliché,” they acknowledge, “but that was the vibe.”

“We just write about whatever we like,” is not just an indication of impulsive, aimless musical choices but instead an intentional reflection of their creative freedoms. For there’s something joyfully compelling about their willingness to follow that instinct from biting fury to gothic fantasy to the simple happiness of a childhood memory, without losing a jot of their sound or identity inbetween.

Perhaps that’s no surprise: alongside their clear Liverpudlian pride is a love of bands like The Ramones, Stray Cats and Johnny Thunders. All musical acts that also had a lot to say and had no problem with ruffling a few feathers in order to do so. Those early influences are now becoming collaborators, with CJ Ramone taking an interest in the band and welcoming them to the US to write together, before joining John Travolta and Billie Joe Armstrong at the Ramones’ 50th-anniversary event. Not too shabby for a band raised on those very records.

For all the illustrious company they’ve started to keep, this remains, at its heart a family affair. From AC/DC and The Jackson Five to The Kinks, Oasis and HAIM, that unreplicable sibling energy has given some of music’s most memorable bands their spark. In Yee Loi’s easy teasing and shared conviction, there’s plenty to suggest the future involves them adding their own chapter to that dazzling lineup.

What makes Yee Loi’s place in that lineage compelling is the genuine joy they seem to take in figuring out what they can do together. And perhaps there, out on some sunny California beach somewhere, rage and hope become less two sides of the same coin, and more like two friends enjoying a sunset side-by-side. The Farrell siblings have much more to challenge, much more to say, and the conviction to know they’ll stay true to themselves while they do it. If this is what punk’s next chapter sounds like, there’s reason to look forward to it.

YEE LOI’s upcoming album, Flicks, licks, party tricks, is out on the 15th of January 2027. They can be found on Instagram here and on all major streaming platforms.