Who Let The Dogs Out – Lambrini Girls Have A Night At The Brudenell

★★★★☆ (4/5)

**LAMBRINI GIRLS PERFORMING AT LEEDS BRUDENELL SOCIAL CLUB**
**PHOTOCREDIT: JOHN HAYHURST**

There’s something feral about The Lambrini Girls live. Not just loud, not just fast—feral. On April 8th at Leeds’ Brudenell Social Club, they took that raw, punk energy they’ve been bottling since their early Brighton days and smashed it across the faces of a packed-out crowd. It wasn’t a gig. It was a riot with a PA system.

The night kicked off with Leeds’ own Fuzz Lightyear, and right out the gate, it was clear they weren’t just the token local support. They tore into their set like they had something to prove, and maybe they did—to show they could hang with the heavyweights. Their sound: noisy, sludgy post-hardcore with enough fuzz to justify the name.

The room filled fast for them, and by the end of their set, it felt like they’d actually won the room over. ‘Visual Effect’ was so loud and messy it was almost psychedelic. No polish, no pretence—just sheer volume and rage. Leeds should be proud.

CLT DRP (pronounced “Clit Drip”) followed with a set that was equal parts electro-punk precision and throat-punch aggression. From the first beat, their industrial, bass-heavy sound grabbed the room by the collar. Annie Dorrett's vocals switchblade between spoken-word sass and pure scream therapy, while Daphne and Scott lock in tight, metallic grooves underneath. Scott has a guitar pedal stack that wouldn’t fit in a suitcase, unearthly sounds are coming from it. They’re clinical with their chaos—every synth stab, every beat-drop feels designed to wreck your nervous system.

Highlights included the seismic “NEW BOY” that hinted at an even heavier direction for the band. The political charge behind their lyrics wasn’t lost on this crowd either—when Dorrett shouted, “This is our space now,”, fists went up. It felt righteous, furious, and necessary. CLT DRP didn’t just warm up the crowd—they lit the fuse.

Then came the headliners. The Lambrini Girls exploded onto the stage like they'd just sprinted through a bar fight. No intro, no preamble—just straight into “Big Dick Energy” from their volatile debut album ‘Who Let The Dogs Out’ that’s more of a middle finger to the current trends than a record. They’re punk in the oldest, purest sense—not just about music, but about rupture.

Phoebe Lunny and Lilly Macieira don’t perform to the crowd—they perform in it, through it, and sometimes on top of it. There were multiple points where the line between stage and pit vanished entirely. Lunny, guitar swinging like a weapon, launched herself into the audience during the opening track. Splitting the crowd down the middle, getting selected audience to be proud of their queer status and then start the moshing at the height of the next chorus. It felt permanently chaotic, but also deliberate—a cathartic mess that made perfect sense in the moment.

The setlist pulled mostly from this debut album, including the throat-tearing “God’s Country” and “Company Culture” They also threw in some older cuts like the anthemic “Help Me I’m Gay” which had the crowd screaming back every word like a battle cry. It turned the Brudenell into a pressure cooker.

The Brudenell Social Club is no stranger to chaos, but this show pushed it. The crowd was as much part of the show as the bands—moshing, climbing, laughing, screaming. Queer punks, students, old heads in Ramones T Shirts, and even a few confused-looking normies all thrown together in a kind of beautiful anarchy. There was glitter on the floor, beer in the air, and a constant sense that anything could happen next.

Emotionally? It felt like release. There was anger, yes—these are angry bands in an angry time—and not just politically charged “If you don’t support the freeing of Palestine get out of our gig right now” but there was also joy in the noise, in the connection, in being slammed shoulder-to-shoulder with strangers screaming lyrics about gender, power, and not giving a shit what people think.

No fake farewells. The Lambrini Girls ended the night how they started it—abruptly, loudly, and with zero compromise. The lights came up to stunned faces and ringing ears. And honestly, no one wanted it any other way.