I've written plenty about live music in Lawrence. About the community maintained by the city's year-round residents, and about the laid-back matinees and the family friendly vibes that permeate the college town during the summer months. I've also devoted paragraphs of praise to the chaotic energy that the college kids bring. To their anything-is-possible experimentation, and their limitless energy that lasts deep into the night. But it was a different vibe that sold out The Granada on a Tuesday night in July. One fueled by the headliner's zealots that had travelled the Midwest to celebrate and get rowdy.

The night kicked off with Lambrini Girls. Phoebe Lunny (vocals/guitar) fronts the band with cohort and co-founder Lily Macieira (bass/vocals). A mysterious unnamed touring drummer joins the duo on stage. The act is from Brighton in the UK, but if you want more background on the duo, you'll have to read its press. It's everywhere, from Rolling Stone all the way down to xeroxed zines left at all-ages spaces. The band is fiery and brash and punk, young and political, and is miffed that its anti-cop, pro-trans, anti-capitalist, pro-Palestine, anti-racist, pro-LGBTQ, anti-gun, feminist message is considered radical by so many. Thankfully it wasn't too radical for The Granada.

Knowing that most of the crowd were experiencing the band for the first time, Lunny went on the offensive. In the first song she was over the barricade and into the audience. She was there for the second too. And many other times in the night as well. During one song she interacted with audience members one-on-one, elevating "queer and non-binary legends" in the crowd. In another, she had the room sit or crouch in hushed silence while she spoke. Audience participation was called for and happily provided throughout the band's set. I suspect that the house sang nearly as much the band. In the middle of the set, when someone fell in the pit, Lunny stopped the show until she verified the audience member was okay. Then she reminded the crowd to pick up anyone that falls. Inclusion and creating safe spaces for people not traditionally welcomed in the scene is important to the band. The audience at the Granada agreed to join the band's quest.

While Too Much Rock is comfortable being not much rock at all, it seems at a minimum I should mention the music the band played. Tersely, it was punk, played fast. Fast enough to fuel the mosh pit. There's no pop punk bounce to it. No shifting punk rock power chords. Instead, there was an insistent churning created by Macieira's bass lines and our nameless drummer. Often, Lunny's guitar only threw quick jabs during the verses, saving its fury for choruses that exploded in a delightful racket. Maybe it's post-punk? At least one song had no guitar at all, and when it was present, it was often set down for long periods of time leaving the rhythm section to vamp while Lunny shouted the band's manifestos. Songs stretched well beyond their recorded versions. Lunny's vocals were staccato and violently urgent. They weren't far from the night's headliner. Melodies were hard to discern (though "Lads Lads Lads" was entirely hummable), but the band's songs were structured and easy to wrap your head around. Easy to lose your head to as well. About half the eleven-song set was taken from last year's debut EP, Your Welcome. "God's Country," from a just-released 7" single also made an appearance. The remainder of the set unreleased songs – some very new ("Filthy Rich Nepo Babies") and some that have been part of the band's live repertoire for years (closer "Craig David"). Who knows if the band will ever make it back to Kansas, but Kansas will remember Lambrini Girls.

By the time the trio left the stage, the Granada was packed. I had never seen it fuller. And speaking of not seeing things, there wasn't an open spot in the club where you could see the stage. I wandered the periphery and ultimately settled into the balcony where I stood behind several rows of fans. When they cheered, I knew the headliner had taken the stage.

First let me say that Amyl and the Sniffers don't need the pontifications of Too Much Rock. The Australian quartet is already rungs above the acts that usually grace the site, and there's little point in writing the same bits about the band that far more qualified authors have already penned, or posting photos of an act that has already been photographed in every pose possible. That said, good bands shouldn't be written off just for finding deserved fame, so I'll try to strike the right balance.

So quickly, the band has been around since 2016, gaining a reputation based the balls-out live performance of lead singer Amy Taylor. The band has backed up that hype with two excellent and well-received albums, and are gearing up for a third, having just released two digital singles this summer. Nominally the band is punk rock, though its sound builds on a '70s pub rock foundation that leans heavily into blue collar rock & roll. It's the same scene that spawned acts like AC/DC decades earlier. As such, there is a ton of swagger in the band, plenty of bottom end boogie, and some righteous guitar solos. Nearly every song is a fist pumper. Nearly every song is a stomper. Nearly every song is the sound of a beer bottle striking some geezer's head.

Amy Taylor was the star of the show. She's small and wiry, always running about the stage, fit as a Peloton instructor, and blessed with the social graces of a teamster wearing brass knuckles. She started the night declaring that she liked the heat and humidity of Kansas. That's an Australian for you. She's practically feral. Her feminist lyrics are less about building lasting community and more about having the personal freedom to rampage and to deliver retribution. She's backed by Declan Martens (guitar), Gus Romer (bass), & Bryce Wilson (drums). Each of them contributed gang backing vocals, with Romer occasionally taking the mic between songs to lead the audience in some call and response fun. When he wasn't on the mic, he stood with his back to the crowd delivering big round basslines that that occasionally met up with Wilson's loose pounding drums. Martens' guitar work varied from song to song. Some guitar lines chimed coyly to allow his bandmates to take the spotlight, others delivered deep grooves, and some were composed entirely of winding leads. Solos were common, and he took a ripper of a solo in "Hertz" from the band's 2021 album Comfort to Me. The crowd liked that one, but the crowd liked all of them. It cheered immediately as it recognized each song, and it sang along with Taylor's softened shouts and chewed vowels throughout. During "Security" the audience was as loud as the band. A few songs later, the bouncing crowd had also become a surfing one.

After eighteen songs the band thanked the fans and disappeared into the wings leaving the crowd to call out for more. Moments later The Granada was rewarded with a two-song encore consisting of new single "U Should Not Be Doing That" and reliable favorite "GFY." By the end of the night the band had played most of both albums, the two new singles, as well as "Balaclava Lover Boogie" from an early EP. The show had been electric, drawing energy from both the bands and the fans – especially those that had travelled for hours to see the act. The combination ensured that the band's first show in Kansas lived up to the hype set by its gonzo videos. Just one more thing that makes Lawrence shows so special.