Sweden's garage-rock lifers formed in Fagersta and built a sound that is fast, bright, and sharply dressed.

From Fagersta with a grin

After a long studio silence, the burst of The Death of Randy Fitzsimmons marked a return to loud hooks and the in-house myth of their phantom writer. Expect an opener like Bogus Operandi or the chanty Come On!, with Hate to Say I Told You So and Tick Tick Boom saved for the loudest peaks. The floor skews mixed age, with denim jackets and band patches up front and curious first-timers posted near the sides, all moving but keeping it friendly. Howlin' Pelle talks like a stand-up between tunes, vaults the barrier when space allows, and cues clap-backs the moment the guitars choke to silence.

Setlist bets and deep-cuts lore

Trivia heads know that 'Randy Fitzsimmons' is credited as writer across the catalog, a long-running bit the band treats as real during stage banter. Their black-and-white uniform rule dates to early Veni Vidi Vicious cycles and still shapes the lights, backdrops, and even the drumheads. These guesses on songs and staging pull from recent dates and could shift by city.

The Hives scene: black, white, and loud grins

You will see checkerboard shirts, skinny ties, and DIY patches, often in the same row.

Rituals in the rush

Up front, people clear space for short, fast pits during the big choruses and snap back into place once the riff returns. Clap patterns start early, and the crowd loves the stop-time moments where a single shout or count rings out. Chants break into tidy bursts, sometimes spelling the band name in clipped barks, sometimes echoing the ticks from Tick Tick Boom. Merch leans bold and simple, with black-and-white prints, nods to the 'Randy' lore, and posters that look like old crime circulars.

Style as a team sport

Plenty dress up to match the stage palette, but the room reads easygoing rather than fussy. Between songs, people trade grin-heavy one-liners about the banter and compare which eras they first saw the band. It feels like a club where speed and humor both matter, and the code is simple: move when the stops hit, then let someone else get a turn at the rail.

How The Hives make the racket sing

Pelle's voice is bright and cutting, riding high in the mix so the talk-sung lines punch through the cymbals.

Tight screws, loose hips

Guitars live in a stingy, mid-forward tone that favors tight downstrokes and quick mutes, letting the drums snap harder. Arrangements stay simple but smart, with stop-start bars that open space for claps or a shouted tagline. The rhythm section pushes tempos five to ten beats faster than the records, which gives even midtempo cuts a sprint feel. They often stretch the false-ending of Tick Tick Boom, dropping to silence, milking the pause, then detonating again on the count.

Little choices, big lift

Guitars are panned hard left and right so the riffs answer each other, and a dry vocal reverb keeps the words crisp. Lights tend to follow the hits and stops rather than paint long washes, which mirrors the clipped, percussive playing. The net effect is music-first chaos: lean parts, loud room, and jokes that never swamp the beat.

Kindred noise for The Hives fans

The Strokes fit for fans who like taut, two-guitar chatter with a cool vocal line riding on top.

Neighboring rattle and charm

Arctic Monkeys bring a similar loud-quiet snap and sing-along hooks, though they tilt moodier when the keys come in. Franz Ferdinand hit the dance-punk corner, where angular riffs meet four-on-the-floor and call-and-response shouts. Royal Blood trade guitars for a fuzz-bass wall, but the punchy riffs and crowd handclaps land in the same lane.

If you chase riffs and sprints

The Kills share the stripped-down menace and drum-machine thump that scratches the garage itch in a different shade. Fans who crave brisk tempos, tight stops, and witty stage patter will recognize that kinship across these acts even when textures change. If those names live in your playlists, this show will feel like home base between eras of guitar music.