Live Review: Gurriers - Scala, London 27/03/2025
“London, come on ta fuck, let’s fucking go” the magic words from Gurriers frontman, Dan Hoff, to kick off the chaos at the band’s largest headline show to date, a sold-out Scala, on Thursday night.
Dublin-based post punk band Gurriers are currently on a trajectory that is skyrocketing straight up, and there’s no sign of them slowing down either. Last year saw the release of their debut album, Come And See, followed by a sold-out tour across Ireland, the UK and Europe, and later supporting Kneecap at their sold-out gig at the SSE Arena in Belfast. Now, having just finished supporting Inhaler on tour and returning from a stint at SXSW Festival in Austin, Texas, the lads are back on the road for the second leg of their Come And See tour.
Thursday night was a special one for the Irish five-piece, selling out their largest headline gig so far at one of London’s many beloved venues, Scala. Scala, with its multiple levels, bright yellow and red staircases and high ceilings, was packed out by quarter to eight that night, with many hopeful fans still chancing getting a ticket on the door and being turned away. It was almost impossible not to spot those already clad in Gurriers shirts, an air of excitement and a strong mix of Irish accents floating around the venue. With a combination of solo gig-goers, groups of friends, couples, parents and their teenage kids all filing into the main stage area, it’s suitably packed before the support act, fellow Irish band, Theatre, come on stage to warm everyone up.
Theatre, a five-piece from Limerick, have been making waves within the Irish music scene recently, purely from their live shows, and it’s easy to understand why. Their set is a fusion of post-punk, folk, and rock, with captivating melodies and otherworldly vocals from lead singer Meave. Their sound, which is entirely unique with ethereal, haunting guitars and vocals, would most certainly appeal to fans of Irish rock group The Cranberries. The crowd are nothing short of mesmerised, attention wholly focused on the wild talent that is Theatre. The Irish quintet may not have any music released as of yet, but their set was intoxicating, unforgettable. A pure joy to witness Theatre proving that the talent coming out of Ireland right now is second to none…and it’s not all just coming out of Dublin either.
Scala is well and truly full when it is time for Gurriers to take to the stage. Those on the main floor are now well acquainted with their neighbours, shoulders, elbows and knees all knocking together, packed like sardines. The higher levels are similarly full of gig-goers with a perfect birds-eye view, arms resting on barriers, pints in hand, ready and waiting. It’s a bubble of anticipation, an electric hum in the air as they wait for the main act. As the Irish five-piece walk onto the stage to Frankie Valli’s Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You, the crowd are ready; they’re bouncing on the soles of their feet, rolling their shoulders, and when the siren-like guitars and pounding drums of Close Call start, all hell breaks loose. The crowd immediately lose it, throwing themselves together, an ocean of bodies moving as one, and everyone wants to get stuck in the current. The heaving energy carries on as the band rolls into Nausea, an ear-piercing track laden with heavy drums and scratchy guitars, old-school punk at its finest. Fist in the air, lead vocalist Dan Hoff eggs the raging crowd on as he spits out, “It’s a problem that they all have.”
Two songs in, beads of sweat are already visible on everyone’s foreheads, and heads of damp hair push each other around the floor during the explosive force of track Des Goblin while bassist Charlie McCarthy climbs right into the thick of it, bass guitar in tow. When the high-energy track slows, the crowd follow the band’s lead and hunker down low, waiting for it to build. It’s as if everything has been put into slowmo, heads bopping in time to the ever composed, Pierce Callaghan’s drums, before it starts to pick back up, slow and steady. Those at a Gurriers gig for the first time look around with mild confusion and anticipation, while those who have seen them live before are fully strapped in, ready for Des Goblin to reach its inevitable peak, which is all consuming and impossible to ignore. While Hoff screams “no, no, no, no, no” into the crowd, it’s gone from slowmo to triple speed, fists in the air as people move together in a wave, Charlie and his bass still lost somewhere in the middle of it.
There’s a chorus of cheers when they introduce Dipping Out, a song dedicated to their friends who have moved away from home, and it feels like a crowd favourite, as they almost drown out the band themselves with their singing. Proving there’s a hell of a lot more to come from them yet, Gurriers pull two new songs out of the hat. Nothing Happens Twice and Erasure, both gut-punchingly good, heavy tracks that keep the momentum going and the crowd roaring. Nothing Happens Twice sounds almost eerie, doom heavy - it has the floor of Scala vibrating, travelling up through you until your bones are rattling.
The crowd are offered a moment to catch their breath, a moment of reflection as the hypnotising guitar riff of Prayers starts and Hoff announces, “We’re going to slow it down for a bit.” It’s all spoken word and brooding guitars, with the backlights creating a halo effect over the five lads as the track starts to build in pace and aggression - there’s only so slow a band like Gurriers can go, of course. While some people go to Mass for a religious experience, others go to a gig, and it’s clear as day that the crowd are worshipping every beat, every word, from the Irish quintet tonight. Their Interlude brings a moment of calm to the calamity before another Gurriers-style slow one, Top Of The Bill, follows. It’s got an opening guitar riff that is hard to beat and remains the focus point for the entire duration, and while guitarist Ben O’Neill’s backing vocals are always a standout, they add another level of depth entirely to this song. A song that has hooked many people into the Gurriers net, according to gig-goers in the smoking area earlier that night.
The crowd are revived, ready to give it everything they’ve got for the remainder of the set as the familiar funky bassline of Sign Of The Times starts, and those who had been standing on the outskirts try to join the wave of people in the middle, wanting to be part of the madness having now witnessed it. The air in the venue is electric, the band and the crowd feeding off each other’s energy. When the furious, head-snapping drums and wailing guitars of No More Photos start, frontman Hoff declares the pit back open, reminding people to “look after each other” before a whole load of tomfoolery ensues. It is safe to say that “the hardest man in the room” that night was guitarist Mark MacCormack, who, putting his fate in the hands of his fans, crowd-surfed along the moshing crowd while continuing to play.
As if the crowd can sense the end is in sight, they go fucking wild when the scuzzy, relentless, tooth-loosening “anti-fascist song” Approachable starts. It’s a swarm, the whole of Scala coming together. Those on the higher levels have their arms outstretched over the barriers, as if willing themselves into the pool of people below. Bodies surf overhead whilst others torpedo around underneath, a grin on every single face.
It’s clear that Gurriers have given it their all, come out with their hearts on their sleeves and left everything they had and more on the stage as they announce their final song, the title track of their debut album, Come And See. A fitting ending to the night, a track about escaping reality, which is exactly what Gurriers offered their crowd, a means of momentary escape.
As the Irish lads’ crashing drums, heavy guitars, and punchy vocals come to a slow end and the crowd erupt into applause, Dan Hoff declares, “We’re going to come back again, bigger…and better.” It’s a statement and a promise. One that’s hard to argue with as the band take a moment on stage to soak in the well-deserved chorus of cheering, shouting and whistling that has Scala shaking.
Words by Angela English
