Death From Above 1979 / Greys @ The Garage, Glasgow, 22 October

“Can we turn this smoke machine off?” requests guitarist/vocalist Shehzaad Jiwani midway through Greys’ set, gesturing towards a head-level generator that’s been puffing out vapour throughout. “I don’t want to give you the illusion that we’re anything but four total nerds from Toronto,” he deadpans – though it’s unlikely any amount of smoke could disguise the band’s affable wholesomeness, which helps win round the crowd’s early arrivals. Their friendly exterior belies a ferociously noisy sound; a post-hardcore squall played at an unyielding pace that leaves the room energised, exhilarated and expectant.

A smoking ban is re-requested during the headline slot when Sebastian Grainger complains that the constant fog is making it hard to breathe, noting “you guys don’t have to see me through smoke for this to be awesome.” He’s got a point; in fact, very little could diminish the unadulterated thrill of seeing Death From Above 1979 in action again, close to a decade since their last Glasgow visit. From the moment Turn It Out shrieks and gallops forth the power duo are riotous and relentless, with the sound of Jesse Keeler’s distorted bass muscling into Grainger’s powerhouse drums and vocals still proving highly visceral.

Right On Frankenstein follows – the first salvo from The Physical World and a forceful notification that tonight isn’t an exercise in mid-noughties nostalgia. As the lurching coda ignites, it’s clear that there’ll be no You’re A Woman, I’m A Machine-favouritism from either band or audience tonight (indeed, classic cuts like Blood On Our Hands and Black History Month are unceremoniously dropped to give new material a prolonged crack of the whip). By interweaving songs from either side of the hiatus, both eras sound invigorated: 2004 supplies the familiar rush, while 2014 spikes it and keeps it fresh.

Aside from the comparatively down-tempo (but still muscular) White Is Red, there’s little let-up: Crystal Ball stands out by dint of its interminable catchiness; Virgins’ brawny riffs sound absolutely colossal; You’re A Woman…’s title track pushes the gig to peak octane, while Romantic Rights’ bullish come-ons raise the room’s temperature to “a million fucking degrees”. Together with the incessant smoke, the overbearing heat speaks to an undeniable fact: the revived Death From Above 1979 are on fire. [Chris Buckle]