It’s bleak outside, and I need a punk rock treat.
Luckily, Gurriers are in Bristol and even better, they are playing a sold-out show in favourite venue Strange Brew.

With new single Erasure flying around the airwaves on the 6 Music A list, their momentum is strong, with five of the first dates selling out.

Having spent years in a van touring, this is no less than Gurriers deserve. Last seen – by this reviewer at least – packing the Far Out stage at Green Man festival, this is a whole different glitter-ball game: small, sweaty and delightful, this promises to be highly lively.

Nerves are up first, completing the Irish lineup with their experimental post-rock. They make feedback melodic, baiting the crowd to get going with guitarist Eoin Keigher scoping us out ominously from above.
I get the feeling that if they’d come on after Gurriers, when the inhibitions were long gone, the crowd would have gone nuts.

There were explosive moments of raw power, and some exquisite bowed guitar going on as frontman Kyle Thornton let rip, engaging the crowd and ending the show on his back, kilt sprawled, guitar trailing behind him.

Belting out the classic Can’t Take My Eyes Off You in full voice as we welcome Gurriers to the stage, the band returns the favour as it fades out by belting it straight back at us.

“Come on you mad bastards!” they cry, launching into the aforementioned prestige banger Eraser.

The bass is grinding, the guitars are feral and full of frenzy, the clashing chorus momentary before its back into the emphatic verse.

The outro lyric is a powerful statement: “They can’t erase the past” is screamed on repeat, building in it’s rage every time.

Dancing to punk music has always been a curious thing. How is it done? Can it really be done? Sign Of The Times shows you how. The bass guides you, the vocals spin and shove you as the crowd swirls you.

Each song tonight has power and a moment of connection in melody that grabs you. Gurriers wholeheartedly throw themselves into every song and into the pit, with only the drummer not entering the crowd and getting involved.

The new material gives us hope for a bright future as Nothing Happens Twice is screamed back at the band as if it’s always been in the set.

There’s only one song left as Des Goblin takes Bristol by circle pit storm: the only song that could close this show, and it has to be Nausea. It’s a relentlessly bouncy song.

To the right bassist Charlie McCarthy is lit up in bright blue playing bass on the bar, while to left, a rugby scrum of black t-shirts slip around an oily drink sodden floor.

My nipples are stinging, my toenail hanging by a thread, but who cares?

The front row pick up and put themselves back together again after being split like skittles on several occasions.

This was a night that promised a lot and delivered more.