A cold, rainy Monday night in Brooklyn is not usually the first environment that comes to mind when you think of excitement, but the dreary day didn’t stop fans of Dublin-born punk quintet Gurriers from turning out in droves for the band’s first ever New York show.

Unlike the brisk late winter night, inside Bushwick’s Elsewhere is hot and densely packed. The venue is dark, pocked with dots of light beaming off the disco balls (multiple) hung on the ceiling. Fans cluster around the stage, inching closer and closer to the stage as the minutes before the set tick by. NYC-based band Native Sun sweeps through in a frenzy, but instead of sating the crowd’s need they only serve to whip up the energy further. The crowd gets a little louder, a little tighter, a little warmer. Fans ditch their coats on their floor, revealing shirts that pledge their various allegiances: Ireland Rugby, Dublin Bohemians, Madra Salach. The crowd feels like a shaken-up can of soda: a little too full, and bubbling with potential energy just waiting to be unleashed. 

And Gurrier’s certainly delivered.

Cutting off a Wet Leg song and interrupting a circulating rumor that Larry David was in attendance (can confirm, he was), the brassy opening notes of Frankie Valli’s “Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You” rang over the crowd, stopping fans in their tracks. The dulcet crooning of New Jersey’s finest was an off-rhythm beat, enough for fans to exchange glances and surprised laughs. Enough for Gurrier’s swinging entrance on stage with “Nausea” to hit like a sucker punch, setting the tone for the night.

The band was only on stage for about an hour, but it was a non-stop, furious hour. Performing through 2024’s Come and See in near totality, the set was a pulls-no-punches display of everything Gurriers has to offer. A groovy bassline that anchors “Sign of the Times” builds into the racing beat of “No More Photos.” They have their melodic moments with “Top of the Bill,” but they’re countered by the raging “Erasure” and “Approachable.” 

It’s the kind of setlist that gets fans moving, conducted at center stage by frontman Dan Hoff. Although chaotic, it’s never out of control. The band members move the crowd to their will: splitting it down the center, whipping up whirling moshpits, or getting everyone floor level so guitarist Mark MacCormack and guitarist Charlie McCarthy could play from the floor. 

By the last wailing notes of “Des Goblin,” all pretenses are gone. Hats and glasses have been removed, eyeliner is melting down faces, t-shirts are sticking to backs. Whatever burdens fans came to the show with that evening are gone, crushed underfoot in the moshpit along with empty beer cans and plastic cups. 

There’s no encore: Gurriers have shown everything they need to.