Catfish and The Bottlemen at Fairview Park, Dublin (June 16, 2025)

After a year of gnawing anticipation and the sting of a last-minute cancellation, Catfish and the Bottlemen finally stormed Fairview Park in Dublin on a warm Monday night in mid June. And by the gods, it was more than worth the wait. The air, thick with the joyful shouts of thousands of Irish faithful, crackled with the promise of summer concerts to come.

Before the main event, Twin Atlantic burst onto the stage, proving themselves a force to be reckoned with. This excellent, loud Scottish rock band unleashed a primal assault of pumping drums and bass that vibrated straight through your bones. Singer Sam McTrusty is a vocal powerhouse, projecting every syllable of his Glaswegian accent with an almost defiant clarity. Honestly, we absolutely adore it when artists refuse to Americanise their sound; it’s a breath of fresh, air that cuts through the banal.

Their tunes were undeniably upbeat, the drummer a man on a mission, his thunderous beats a clear invitation to surrender to the rhythm. Guitarist Barry McKenna, a true maestro, wielded his instrument like a flaming torch, igniting the very fire of rock deep within our veins. Twin Atlantic embody that Scottish indie-rock vibe, a well-oiled machine on stage, five lads exuding a vaguely emo charm while keeping the emotional punch firmly embedded in their lyrics. They didn’t just open; they set the stage ablaze.

The anticipation for Catfish and The Bottlemen was practically a physical entity. They teased us, letting the familiar strains of “Helter Skelter” drift from the PA, before exploding onto the stage. The moment the band materialised, they plunged headfirst into ‘Longshot’, a soaring anthem that instantly had every single person screaming along. The sheer cacophony of the band and the crowd, a glorious roar, was deafening. And while Dublin might not boast the sheer numbers of some of their colossal UK crowds, I promise you, we were every bit as loud.

Van McCann, the enigmatic frontman and one of the two original members (alongside Benji Blakeway on bass), remained a captivating enigma behind a curtain of hair, yet his vocals sliced through the sonic assault with crystal clarity. Benji, meanwhile, was a masterclass in indie rock bass, wielding his instrument to compel every single one of us to move. They seamlessly transitioned into ‘Kathleen’, and the crowd’s cheers intensified, the collective cry of “I’ve got to give it to you, you give me problems” echoing through the park.

The stage itself was a visual feast, adorned with Monsters Inc-style doors of light that flashed and pulsed throughout the set, perfectly mirroring the band’s raw energy. Excellent use of screens gave us glimpses of the band’s intense performance and the wild abandon of the crowd, forging a truly immersive atmosphere. The band, opting for sonic intensity over stage banter, delivered a relentless, nearly 20-song set, each track executed with razor-sharp precision.

‘Soundcheck’ ignited a furious wave of crowd engagement, propelled by an absolutely thumping bassline. Whatever internal dynamics might exist, they undeniably coalesce into a singular, powerful unit, their sound so loud it seemed to rattle your very cells at a biological level. The musical interlude was a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss, and that line, “grew up in a small town,” resonated deep within the Irish soul.

‘Twice’, one of their older gems, was an ode to their dedicated millennial fanbase, every note struck with perfect precision. Despite not being a complete sell-out, the crowd was an absolute maelstrom of energy, completely submerged in the electric vibe. It was fantastic to see the Gen Z cohort embracing ‘Hourglass’, a clear sign of a new wave of fans ready to carry the torch forward. There’s just something about screaming about longing with a thousand strangers that hits right.

There wasn’t a hint of a grudge about last year’s cancellation. The band tore through a varied and expertly curated setlist. While McCann seemed to be banking more on his magnificent mane of hair for stage presence than actual banter – looking a bit like a modern-day Nigel Tufnel from Spinal Tap, bless him – his vocals were, absolutely flawless.

When they started playing ‘Business’ with its iconic chorus was another example of excellence form the lads. What a way to describe wanting to be with someone, “I wanna make you my problem” is a lyric that really sticks with you.

The entire tent vibrated with the very essence of the sesh, the air thick with warm summer humidity and the joyous roar of thousands of Irish people on an unseasonably warm Monday night. It was pure elation, unrestrained boisterousness, and precisely the kind of explosive energy needed to kick off the summer concert series at Fairview Park. Say what you will about the band politics, it was a great experience.

While there was a curious pocket of emptiness towards the back, overall, the atmosphere was nothing short of electric. This wasn’t merely a gig; it was a cathartic release, a collective roar that echoed triumphantly through Fairview Park.