Let’s be clear: life is not an easy gig, and despite what some may believe, there might not be an encore. So doing what you can, when you can, and for the greater good is more important today than it has been for quite some time.

Gogol Bordello present such a potent feeling of positivity in a music genre that is as familiar as it is alien. The fusion of punk and cross-cultural Gypsy themes—presented in an exploding piñata of riot and colour—is as welcome as summer after winter: a necessary antidote to darker times.

A multi-national troupe with a New York-centric heart, they create an irresistible, unrelenting tide of their unique left-field aesthetic. Similar in spirit—both visually and musically—to the incredible yet sadly self-imploding French Gypsy jazz collective of the late ’80s and early ’90s, Les Négresses Vertes, Gogol Bordello appear as a seven-piece band of vibrant colour and surging electrical charge that’s hard to ignore and utterly impossible to resist.

But hang on—tonight wasn’t about one band. It was about all three acts coming together as a collective front of friendship, unity, and solidarity, no doubt instigated by Gogol Bordello themselves. This collective spirit is something really quite rare in terms of a gig and audience perception: Eugene coming on to play with Puzzled Panther, Puzzled Panther joining Gogol on stage, then Harry of Split Dogs adding her fire to the mix—and finally, all of them together in one glorious, chaotic finale.

This is what live music should be: barriers broken down, egos left at the door, pure connection.

Eugene—chief Gogol himself—is, from the off and while people are still wandering into the venue, in the pit filming the fantastic NYC post-punk newcomers Puzzled Panther, whose cover of Venus in Furs reveals influences and roots that delve deep into New York’s musical history—that lineage of art-punk experimentation and raw energy that never quite goes away—combined with a danceability reminiscent of Primal Scream meets Manchester. Their music, and the way it’s presented, is very much its own unique thing: energetic, engaging, and utterly captivating in its youthful intensity.

Hard-hitting yet effortlessly personable, they command the stage with a confidence that belies their newbie status. There’s something magnetic about watching a band this early in their journey—this hungry, this alive. Their short thirty-minute set leaves you wanting more, and the buzzing feeling they create becomes a benchmark for the night as a whole. With a new EP freshly released, this is a band to watch closely—one that carries the torch of New York’s underground legacy while blazing its own trail forward.

Split Dogs attack the stage as if their lives depend on it. Chat is tempered with a “better get on with it” attitude that feels full-blown punk—sonic and visual blitz. Despite being quite different from the other bands tonight, they clearly come from the same gene pool, just a different branch: raucous and here to destroy. Harry’s vocals lead from the front, attacking the stage with her distinctive voice and infectious attitude—thirty minutes of pure adrenaline and defiance. A thrill to watch, and the perfect catalyst for what’s about to follow.

Gogol Bordello literally invade the stage, which suddenly seems too small to contain them. Sprinting towards the cheering crowd, Eugene slams down a bottle of what I thought was Buckfast—turns out to be Cabernet Sauvignon. It erupts over photographers in the pit, and the tone for the night is set. This is a full-blown visual and musical assault, especially when Pedro and Eugene combine to share vocals and deliver raga-rap as hard-hitting as it gets.

A continuous high-tempo, body-slamming beat; relentless accordion and violin drones carry through the songs with almost no let-up in the wave of emotion and energy. This is music that demands everything from you—your attention, your body, your voice, your heart.

Some smile-inducing moments include nods to several of their surprisingly less obvious 1980s influences: snippets of I Want Candy by Bow Wow Wow, Gangsters by The Specials, and TV Eye by The Stooges. The set becomes a celebration not just of their own music but of the lineage that brought them here—a reminder that all great music is built on what came before, reimagined and reborn.

It’s been impossible to review or even consider just Gogol Bordello in isolation tonight. This evening was as much about camaraderie as it was about music: older bands helping younger bands, and vice versa. Passing the torch while still holding it high—a beautiful, rare thing in an industry that too often forgets its roots.

Fraternity. Unity. Solidarity.

Revolutionary words. Revolutionary spirit.

Words – Nick Tamer

Images – Chris Hogge