SPRINTS // SWG3 // 28.11.25

By the time Sprints took the stage, following opening act Chalk the room was feverish. The Dublin-based quartet has been on the road since January, but their energy is undiminished; if anything, it feels honed. This isn’t just a band; it’s a movement. Lead singer Karla Chubb commanded the crowd like a general, albeit one with a sly smile and a voice that can scorch the walls.

Right out of the gate, they tore into “To the Bone”, a track that surges and snarls like a runaway train. It’s punk with pop instincts: think Sleater-Kinney covering early Blondie while trying to outrun a speeding car. On “Tell Me”, their influences shifted again—La Tigre’s electroclash meets Bikini Kill’s unvarnished fury, a mashup of grit and glitter.

But it was during “The Fucking Cheek” that the crowd hit a collective high. Dedicated to “the girls, gays, and theys,” it was a raucous anthem that practically blew the roof off SWG3. The way Chubb spat the lyrics—“Do you ever feel like something’s gonna happen?”—felt less like a question and more like a prophecy.

Musically, Sprints exist somewhere in the Venn diagram of post-punk, riot grrrl, and garage rock. Their sound is all sharp edges and relentless momentum, like early Sonic Youth channeled through the ferocity of Amyl and The Sniffers. But it’s their lyrics that elevate them to something truly special. There’s humor here—Chubb’s quip about being “sensitive artists” before launching into a new song that the band are road testing tonight – another gut-punch of a song—but also a deeply rooted rage and love.

At one point, Chubb declared, “This song is about the thing I love most: women.” And you could feel it in every chord, every drumbeat, every scream. Songs like “Adore, Adore, Adore” and “I Liked You Better?” don’t just celebrate queer identity; they demand space for it.

There’s something radical about watching a band like Sprints in 2024. In a music industry that still too often sidelines queer women, they’re proof that not only is there space for these voices, but that they’re essential. This is music for the outcasts, the dreamers, the angry, and the hopeful.