Easy Peelers, young upstarts cutting their teeth on the local scene, brought a frenetic energy that set the tone for the night. Their sound, still raw around the edges, showed promise—a band on the brink of something bigger.

Former Champ, featuring former Catholic Action members and the ethereal vocals of Poppy, offered a contrast with their twee and romantic songs, providing a brief, melodic reprieve before Clamm’s onslaught.

Walking into The Old Hairdressers in Glasgow, it’s impossible not to be reminded of the time I spent in Melbourne. Ten years ago, that city seemed ahead of its time, brimming with creative energy and a sense of urgency that felt like a seismic shift was always around the corner.

Now, as Melbourne noise rock trio Clamm storm the tiny stage in this intimate venue, I’m struck by how that sense of forward momentum has followed them across the world. The question on everyone’s lips is: why are so many good bands coming out of Melbourne?

Clamm seem to answer that with every crashing chord and guttural scream. The city’s music scene is a hotbed of talent, nurtured by vibrant local radio stations and a community that prizes raw authenticity. Clamm, with their unapologetic noise rock sound, are the latest torchbearers of this tradition, and tonight’s performance solidifies their place in the lineage of Melbourne’s underground legends.

They kick off with “Change,” a brutal, pulsating track that immediately grabs hold of the room. There’s no easing into the set—Clamm come at you like a freight train. The guitars are abrasive, the drums relentless, and Jack Summers‘ vocals are a primal howl, channeling frustration into a cathartic release. The song’s rhythmic churn reflects the city’s industrial heartbeat, a reminder of the grit and grime that fuel Melbourne’s music scene.

The momentum carries into “Enuf,” a track that feels like a manifesto against complacency. Its dissonant chords and pounding basslines challenge the listener to confront their own sense of inertia. Summers shouts, “How much is enough?”—a rhetorical question that lingers long after the song ends. There’s an urgency here that’s impossible to ignore.

By the time they hit “Define,” the crowd is fully engaged, bodies moving in synchronicity with the band’s ferocious energy. This track, with its jagged edges and shifting tempos, feels like a statement of purpose. Clamm aren’t just making noise; they’re dissecting it, bending it to their will, and turning it into something that feels both chaotic and controlled.

“Free” slows things down—if only slightly—with a sludgy, bass-heavy groove that envelops the room. It’s a brief respite before the barrage continues with “Something New,” a track that captures the band’s restless spirit. There’s a rawness to this song, a feeling that it could fall apart at any moment, but that’s precisely what makes it so thrilling. Clamm are walking a tightrope, and the tension is electrifying.

The second half of the set brings “Bit Much,” a blistering critique of modern life that hits like a punch to the gut. The song’s lyrics reflect the disillusionment of a generation, yet there’s a defiance in Summers’ delivery that suggests a refusal to give in. “Liar” follows, a venomous track that seethes with anger and frustration. The band’s intensity never wanes, each song building on the last, creating a wall of sound that feels impenetrable.

“Incomplete Us” stands out as a moment of introspection amidst the chaos. It’s here that Clamm reveal a different side, one that’s vulnerable and reflective. The lyrics speak to a longing for connection, for something more than the hollow promises of modernity. The song’s slower tempo and melodic undertones provide a brief glimpse of the band’s versatility, without sacrificing any of their raw power.

The set closes with “Disembodiment,” a sonic assault that leaves the audience reeling. It’s a fitting end to a night that’s been equal parts exhilarating and exhausting. As the last notes fade into the ether, there’s a sense that Clamm have left it all on the stage—nothing held back, nothing left unsaid.

Supporting acts Easy Peelers and Former Champ provided the perfect foil to Clamm’s intensity.

As I left The Old Hairdressers, the echoes of Melbourne’s vibrant music scene rang in my ears. It’s a city that’s always felt ahead of its time, and Clamm are proof that it’s still pushing boundaries, still demanding to be heard. If you’re wondering why so many good bands are coming out of Melbourne, look no further than nights like this—where raw talent meets unfiltered emotion, and the result is nothing short of transcendent.