Roadrunner was buzzing well before Amyl and the Sniffers barreled onto the stage. Decked out in ripped tees and anxious excitement, the crowd spilled in, the air thick with anticipation of what was less a concert, more a ritual. When Amy Taylor and her band finally launched into the first vicious chords, the crowd didn’t just cheer—they unleashed a primal scream. Welcome to pub-punk gladiators in full, glorious flight.
Setlist Breakdown
Here’s the unfiltered track-by-track onslaught they delivered that night:
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Control
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Got You
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It’s Mine
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Chewing Gum
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Knifey
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Tiny Bikini
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Doing in Me Head
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Some Mutts (Can’t Be Muzzled)
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Big Dreams
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GFY
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Guided By Angels
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Facts
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Do It Do It
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Balaclava Lover Boogie
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Motorbike Song
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Security
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Don’t Need a C**t (Like You To Love Me)
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Me and The Girls
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Freaks To the Front
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Jerkin’
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U Should Not Be Doing That
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Hertz
Kick-Off Chaos: Songs 1–5
As soon as “Control” kicked off, it wasn’t just music—it was a shove to the face with full, feral joy. Amy stormed the stage like she was conquering it, snarling into the mic with raw charisma. There was zero window dressing—just snarling guitars and drums pounding so hard you could feel them in your chest.
“Got You” and “It’s Mine” were snarls made into songs—stomping beats with Amy in her element. “Chewing Gum” brought a disastrous, hilarious punch, as Amy spit lyrics like she was airing more than just grievances—she was un-spooling a whole brand of punk storytelling. With “Knifey” following, the pace didn’t let up one bit—gritty, jagged, and propulsive.
Tempo Ramps: Songs 6–10
“Tiny Bikini” charmed the crowd with its cheeky lyrics and unyielding drive. Any pretense of chilled punk was out the window—crowd members were dancing like their lives depended on it. “Doing in Me Head” followed, a chugging, sweaty dirge that made even the back wall feel electrified.
Then they punched us again with “Some Mutts (Can’t Be Muzzled),” a furious declaration of freedom—no filter, no apologies. By the time “Big Dreams” hit, everyone knew the deal: this band was going to muscle through every note with full emotional weight.
“GFY” was a defiant middle finger to polite society—audience snarled back, instantly committed to the shared mayhem. The energy vault was now wide open.
Controlled Mayhem: Songs 11–15
When “Guided by Angels” landed, the band gave us something sharper and more melodic, a chance to breathe—though still very much on edge. Taylor’s voice felt dialed in, powerful but poised, proving they could move beyond the one-note rage of early songs.
“Facts” followed with unapologetic weight—an explosive reminder of their punk roots. “Do It Do It” and “Balaclava Lover Boogie” then shredded through faster than expected, recharging that kinetic force. “Motorbike Song” added a lighter riff midset, giving the crowd a playful bridge, before they headed into another round of absolute sonic carnage.
Ripping Through the Core: Songs 16–22
“Security” was friction at its finest—drums and guitars colliding hard as Amy prowled the stage like a predator. Even in a packed venue, every shift felt dramatic and present.
“Don’t Need a Ct (Like You To Love Me)**” unapologetically trash-twisted anger into an anthem. The stadium probably rattled. “Me and The Girls” invited riotous sing-alongs; a moment where this punk pack felt nothing short of communal exorcism.
“Freaks To the Front” flattened the barricades—everyone spilled onto the main floor, dancing like civilization didn’t exist. “Jerkin’” kept the shatter going, each chord sliced through spines.
By the time “U Should Not Be Doing That” and “Hertz” crashed into the final act, the band had turned Roadrunner into their own ring of chaos, Amy at the center, roaring as everyone danced like their souls depended on it.
Band Presence & Physicality
Amy Taylor dominates the stage like a steamroller—formidable, fanged, with a grin that dares anyone to blink. The rest of the band matches her intensity: Bryer Wilson’s drums are relentless; Declan Mehrtens rips the guitar with lethal clarity; Gus Romer lays the bass with unwavering punch. No pyrotechnics needed. They drum their energy into every audience member with sweat, presence, and raw volume.
Crowd Chemistry
This was a no-BS hardcore party. The crowd wasn’t just watching—they were part of the assault. Mosh pits opening mid-song, sing-alongs breaking out at random, sweat and spit flying—when Amy snarled “Freaks to the front,” they obeyed. Strangers headbanged together. Singers and shouters unified.
At one point, someone in the crowd yelled “Love you, Amy!” and she returned, “Love you f***ing back,” and the venue hollered as one.
Sound & Venue Notes
Roadrunner’s sound was perfect: guitars were raw, vocals blistering but clear, drums like heartbeats on steroids. Lighting was straightforward—no gimmicks, just strobes, and brutality. It suited the band—brutal, sweaty, heartfelt.
Flow & Set Design
The first third built shuddering momentum, the middle brought intermittent breathing spaces, and then it crashed back into total wreckage. No lulls, no filler—just a carefully designed bullet train of chaos. Watching them landslide through the set was relentless—and beautiful.
Fan Moments
Crowd overheard quotes:
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“I needed that energy.”
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“First time seeing them. Never going back.”
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“My favorite band is Australian punk now.”
There were fans who’d traveled from Portland, Chicago, Montreal—as if Boston was now the global epicenter of Aussie punk, at least for a night.
Highlights You Can’t Shake
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The opening maul of “Control” setting everything ablaze.
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Jaws dropping during “Some Mutts…” in sheer feral joy.
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The swirl of emotion when “Guided by Angels” broke through the riot.
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Amy’s primal roar, mid-song, when the energy could’ve collapsed on them—but instead rose higher.
Closing Vibes
When Amy took one last bow and left the stage, nobody moved. That’s how good it was. Roadrunner wasn’t a venue anymore—it was a memory, etched in sweat and raised voices, raw as blood. That night, Amyl and the Sniffers didn’t just deliver a punk show. They embodied every line, scream, and strut. Boston didn’t listen—they were handed a sonic riot they could feel in their bones.