Gogol Bordello thrives on chaos, and their Birmingham Academy show was no exception. From the first stomp of I Would Never Wanna Be Young Again, the crowd was in a frenzy, embracing the band’s raw energy. Not a Crime and Wonderlust King kept the momentum surging, with Eugene Hütz commanding the stage in his signature whirlwind style. Violinist Sergey Ryabtsev and accordionist Boris Pelekh fueled the mayhem, weaving frantic melodies through pounding drums and roaring guitars.
The night’s emotional peak came with Immigraniada (We Comin’ Rougher), a defiant anthem of immigrant resilience that had the entire room shouting every word. The relentless energy barely let up as My Companjera, Dance Around the Fire, and From Boyarka to Boyaca turned the Academy into a swirling mass of movement. By the time the unmistakable opening chords of Start Wearing Purple rang out, the venue exploded into a euphoric, vodka-soaked singalong.
Closing with Pala Tute, Gogol Bordello proved once again why they remain one of the most exhilarating live acts in the world. More than just a concert, their shows are a communal experience—a whirlwind of culture, rebellion, and unrelenting joy.
Few bands bring the raucous, beer-soaked energy of The Dropkick Murphys, and their show at O2 Academy Birmingham was a masterclass in Celtic punk chaos. From the opening blast of Captain Kelly’s Kitchen, the crowd was whipped into a frenzy, with pounding drums, roaring guitars, and accordion-fueled mayhem setting the tone. The Boys Are Back followed, its anthemic chorus igniting the room, while Prisoner’s Song and The Warrior’s Code blended punk grit with Irish tradition, keeping fists pumping and voices roaring.
The band’s signature mix of humour and defiance was fully displayed, from the rowdy Mick Jones Nicked My Pudding to the triumphant Going Out in Style. The set’s political edge hit hardest with James Connolly, a fiery tribute to the Irish revolutionary, and Which Side Are You On?, a working-class anthem that felt more relevant than ever. The Murphys’ ability to fuse heritage and rebellion into their music created a powerful sense of camaraderie, uniting the crowd in both celebration and purpose.
The energy never wavered as the band tore through Middle Finger, the stomping anti-war anthem Johnny, I Hardly Knew Ya, and deep cuts like The Hardest Mile and Curse of a Fallen Soul. A surprise highlight came with their bagpipe-fueled cover of AC/DC’s It’s a Long Way to the Top a roaring tribute to rock ‘n’ roll that had the crowd going wild. By the time the unmistakable banjo riff of The State of Massachusetts kicked in, the venue had become an all-out riot, culminating in a passionate singalong to Rose Tattoo.
Closing the main set with Worker’s Song, the Murphys reaffirmed their working-class roots, delivering a final rallying cry before the encore. The inevitable I’m Shipping Up to Boston sent the room into absolute pandemonium, with beer flying and bodies crashing in the pit. Finally, Until the Next Time brought a moment of unity, sending fans home with hoarse voices and satisfied smiles.
Once again, Dropkick Murphys proved why they’re one of punk’s most electrifying live acts. Their relentless energy, tight musicianship, and deep connection to their fans make every show feel like a communal celebration. This wasn’t just a concert—it was a full-throttle tribute to music, heritage, and the underdog spirit. Until the next time, indeed.
