Gurriers @ Rescue Rooms

Irish post-punk five-piece Gurriers have recently headed out on their headline Come And See Tour, with a quick turn around after supporting Inhaler earlier this year. Liz Clarke reports.

As the lights dimmed and anticipation pierced the air, Gurriers took to the stage to a perhaps unexpected track: Frankie Valli’s Can’t Take My Eyes Off You, which, of course, prompted an almost obligatory singalong from the crowd. At many shows, such an introduction would move the crowd to levels which the band struggles to sustain, and yet, from the moment that Close Call opens the show, with its distorted dirge guitars and stabs of noise in the chorus, it is clear that the crowd will continue to eat out of Gurriers’ hands for the rest of the night, and deservedly so. Throughout the song, frontman Dan Hoff beckons a sold-out Rescue Rooms to new forms of life, encouraging us to push as far forward as possible as we jump and dance.

This fantastic opener is followed by the one-two punch of Nausea and Des Goblin. The former balances the seemingly impossible task of being at once a piece of distortion-driven noise rock and a festival-ready post-punk anthem in the making with ease. A song about mass youth disaffection in Ireland, it owes itself to fellow Dublin noise rock band Gilla Band (FKA Girl Band)’s primal intensity and yet retains an identity of its own through having a ridiculously catchy hook to build the song around: ‘It’s a problem that they all have!’. The latter, meanwhile, is a more straightforward piece of dance-punk, which is elevated by the relentless layer of thunderous noise operating below the surface’s danceable bassline. The entire band is on top form, with contagious levels of energy, but particularly bassist Charlie McCarthy. Cutting a striking appearance, wearing an almost floor-length tartan kilt and heavy eye makeup, he jumps, runs and skips, asserting total control over every corner of the stage, whilst never missing a note. In a few songs’ time, he’ll be playing bass from the shoulders of a punter at the epicenter of the pit.

Two unreleased songs, labelled as Dissolve and Nothing Happens Twice on the setlist, are previewed tonight, and despite likely being unknown to almost all of the crowd, the energy does not die. Something that often happens when hearing unknown songs live, for me at least, is the lyrics I think I hear aren’t necessarily reflective of reality, but of the mood in the room. This absolutely happened tonight: in one of these songs, I am sure I hear the phrase “Bodies drop” repeated several times over as a hook. Perhaps it is actually the lyric, but knowing me, probably not. Regardless, it reflects the atmosphere in the room perfectly, which never ceases in energy for a second, with virtually every member of the crowd expressing it however they choose: from the eternal circular pit, which must cover half of the floor, where bodies collapse into one another; to those positioned to the sides or on the balcony, watching a band rapidly progressing to the top of their game with awe.

About halfway through the show, Hoff half-jokingly proclaims that he needs a break: and, with the level of constant energy he has sustained to this point, who can blame him? It is at this point that Top of the Bill begins, perhaps the slowest song that Gurriers have released thus far. It seems to speak regarding dealing with depression and interpersonal problems whilst also being part of a touring band who are becoming successful, and the internal conflict that comes from this, and it is profound in its simplicity lyrically. However, musically, it is one of the less exciting or memorable moments of the night: which is not always the case for slower songs, don’t get me wrong. The sudden drop in energy is not backed up by a truly memorable song, though the emotive bridge section, which leaves minimal impression on me on record, is elevated by Hoff’s routinely mesmerising onstage presence, where he is at once effortlessly cool and clearly passionate: jumping, yelling, and gesturing at the crowd with seemingly impulsive true emotion behind his movements. His presence is similar to that of Grian Chatten of Fontaines D.C. in many ways, though Chatten is far dourer and more stagnant in his methods of commanding the stage: the similarities become apparent again in the performance of Sign of the Times, a track with undeniable swagger behind it, that still struggles to reach the heights of many other tracks in intensity or memorability.

 "A piece of biting post-hardcore from the perspective of an opportunist reactionary politician, adamant that he was born in the wrong era, it brims with righteous anger which bursts from both the character and the band themselves even on record, which is elevated to another level tonight."

Towards the end of the night, the track I’ve been waiting for begins: Approachable, my favourite Gurriers song thus far. A piece of biting post-hardcore from the perspective of an opportunist reactionary politician, adamant that he was born in the wrong era, it brims with righteous anger which bursts from both the character and the band themselves even on record, which is elevated to another level tonight. Hoff screams his way through the track with unparalleled bite, the disdain for the persona it forces him to inhabit burning through his teeth. I have always preferred the original Chris W. Ryan mix of this song to the album version, due to its greater harshness and bite, and this preference is almost inevitably reflected live. Guitarists Ben O’Neill and Mark MacCormack take this track as an opportunity to shine, too, each using their instruments to create catastrophically gorgeous layers of feedback which build to a simmering, anxious climax. After this, the night ends with Come and See, the title track from their debut album. Reminiscent of the more introspective songs from Shame’s 2021 record Drunk Tank Pink, it is another slower song which ends the night through inducing a slight comedown: the logic is undeniable, but I would personally have swapped these in the setlist, ending on a bang rather than a (comparative) whimper. As the lights turn back on, the room is truly drenched in sweat, and it is tough to find somebody not smiling and gasping. Gurriers are not a live band to be missed, and this show is testament to that.

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Edited by Bethany Coldwell

Photos courtesy of Gurriers on Facebook