Live review: The Snuts stage fiery Scottish takeover in Yorkshire

The West Lothian quartet brought their arena-sized indie brilliance to the trenches of Leeds, proving that even on a diet of meal deals, they remain the most vital live act in the game.

This sort of once-in-a-lifetime magic comes around like the event of a blue moon, but when you snatch that last ticket to these intimate shows, it’s a moment of incomparable joy.

But that happens when a band capable of selling out venues five times the size of The Wardrobe decides to squeeze back into the basements where they got their kicks together.

As The Snuts took to the stage in Yorkshire that night, the air was already thick with the kind of condensation that only a sold-out indie crowd can produce, abundant with the smell of spilt lagers, cigarette-scented shirts and that weirdly delightful musk of independent venues.

Before the Scottish indie-rock takeover, local rising star Ellur provided the perfect primer for the night’s events.

Her graceful brand of shimmering alt-pop cut through the chatter of the room, bolstered by a vocal range that felt both vulnerable and commandingly northern.

Opening for a crowd this partisan is a challenging task, but she confidently commanded the stage, knowing that her time as an opening act is limited.

After Ellur departed from her home stage, it only took under half an hour for The Snuts to announce their arrival with the blistering festival favourite Gloria, as the band immediately locked into an unstoppable groove that didn't let up for 90 minutes.

Frontman Jack Cochrane was in fine form this evening, balancing the band's slick musicality with a dry, self-deprecating Scottish wit.

Early in their stellar set of unadulterated hits, the band paused for a slight second and leaned into a bit regarding the viral streamer Gymskin, a tongue-in-cheek reference to the internet’s ability to make anyone with a camera distinctly famous, which actually sparked a few "Waheys!", which is a signature vocal tic of said internet star.

But with their most recent outing in albums being named Millennials, the band’s in-the-moment realisation is what made the bit even more ironically brilliant; you’d think all the comedy posters plastered across the venue were referencing Cochrane, as the night treated us to a musical talent numbing the senses; those senses being the ears and funny bones.

A notable set highlight was the blissful brilliance of Glasgow, which led to a mid-set emotional peak that saw the Leeds crowd singing about a city 200 miles away as if it were their own.

Cochrane also took a moment to reflect on the glitz of the touring lifestyle. "It’s nice to have a break," he deadpanned, "if only to stop having a meal deal for breakfast, lunch, and tea." Yet it’s a relatable sentiment for anyone who’s spent too much time navigating their life on the M1, but judging by the unprecedented energy on stage, the Tesco pasta pots are doing something right.

Reaching the midpoint of their crammed set and show came a one-two punch of dance-inflected indie that turned the basement into a makeshift rave; these were the infectiously punchy anthems, Fatboy Slim and the Rodeo.

The atmosphere turned playfully hostile when the inevitable football talk surfaced. Leeds is a city that wears its colours on its sleeve (yellow and blue in this case), and The Snuts weren't afraid to poke the sleeping bear a few times throughout their show.

As they made a few sharp jabs at the local football loyalties while frequently reminding the crowd exactly where they hailed from beyond the borders.

References to their home, Scotland, were woven through the night like a Saltire, grounding the glitzy indie-rock in their grit-and-determination roots.

Maybe California was up next and was an encouraging reminder of their knack for writing sun-drenched summer melodies that still manage to hit those wanting solstice spirits even in the middle of a classically grey Yorkshire evening.

As they tore through the likes of Millionaires and the jagged, urgent Defibrillator, it became clear that The Snuts have outgrown their up-and-coming status. They are now a polished, formidable machine that hasn’t been tainted one bit by the long road they’ve travelled upon.

Making time for some new hits along the way, their insatiable show was closed by the ringing final chords of Always, and the resounding room was spent.

The Snuts may joke about their on-the-road diets and homesickness, but their live show feels right at home in any venue they take to. If this is what they can do in a basement in Leeds, the sky, or at least the next headline festival slot, is the limit.