Unlike concerts that begin when the stage lights come on, Viagra Boys start the moment Sebastian Murphy walks onto the stage. Shirtless, drenched in sweat, with a physical presence that seems to occupy more space than his own body. The figure is instantly recognisable: a frontman who turns every movement into an extension of the music, dancing, provoking and tearing across the stage with an almost animal energy. Behind him, the band sets up a machine of bass, drums, guitars and saxophone that has already seized the crowd before the first note is played.

    Man Made of Meat opens the set and immediately establishes the temperature. Then come Slow Learner, Waterboy and Punk Rock Loser, and the crowd begins to respond as if it has received a signal. Viagra Boys' sound has weight, groove and a kind of deliberate dirtiness, blending punk, post-punk, rock and funk into a language entirely their own. The drums drive everything forward, the bass keeps it firmly grounded and the guitars create that abrasive layer that gives the songs an almost physical dimension.

    Oskar Carls adds another dimension to the show through his extraordinary musical versatility. His presence goes far beyond the saxophone: several instruments fall within his territory, helping to build the richness of the Viagra Boys' sound. At one point, he creates one of the most memorable images of the night: he throws himself into the crowd with his saxophone in his hands and keeps playing as the audience carries him from one person to another. His body disappears among hundreds of spectators, while the saxophone continues to cut through the air above the crowd. Crowd surfing becomes a musical performance — a perfect image of the freewheeling, unpredictable energy that Viagra Boys bring to the stage.

    From that moment on, the boundary between band and audience becomes almost invisible. Uno II, Ain't No Thief and Pyramid of Health find a completely surrendered crowd, with people jumping, shouting and mosh pits opening up in the middle of the audience. Parque da Cidade becomes a gigantic dancefloor, combining the intensity of a punk gig with the groove of a collective party. There is movement everywhere, and a constant feeling that the music is physically pushing people around.

    Sebastian Murphy conducts this storm like a master of ceremonies. Shirtless, sometimes drinking beer, sometimes something else, he moves across the stage with unpredictable gestures and an expressiveness that turns every song into a small piece of theatre. There is humour, provocation and a huge dose of absurdity in his presence, always tied to the music. Murphy knows how to command the space, provoke a reaction and hand the spotlight back to the band at exactly the right moment.

    Troglodyte, Down in the Basement and Cold Play push the concert into an even more intense territory. The band operates like a perfectly tuned machine, while the audience responds with exactly the same energy. The image takes on an almost cinematic quality: lights pouring over the stage, Murphy crossing it with his body covered in sweat, Oskar Carls commanding his instruments, and thousands of people jumping at the same time. For those few minutes, Parque da Cidade feels like a scene from a film about a city overtaken by music.

    Then comes Sports, perhaps the moment when the connection between band and audience becomes most obvious. The song turns into a collective ritual, with every word seeming to belong simultaneously to the stage and the crowd. Viagra Boys' groove takes on enormous power live, transforming the venue into a single mass, everyone dancing, jumping and singing to the same rhythm.

    Research Chemicals extends the release and carries the concert towards its final stretch. The energy remains at full throttle, with the band operating like a perfectly tuned machine and Murphy continuing to dominate the stage. The crowd follows until the very last surge, completely immersed in that strange universe where punk, humour, dancing and chaos coexist naturally.

    And then comes Up Where We Belong, by Joe Cocker and Jennifer Warnes, playing as a recording that feels like the closing credits of a film. After all that intensity, the ballad creates one final, unexpected and almost surreal image. The choice adds a layer of humour and romance to the end of a night dominated by sweat, energy and the spirit of celebration.

    Viagra Boys turned Primavera Sound Porto into a show that was felt in both body and soul. The strength of the performance lay in its ability to turn music into movement, and movement into a collective experience. The stage became an extension of the crowd, the crowd became part of the band, and moments such as Oskar Carls' crowd surfing gave the performance a dimension that could never be reproduced on a recording.

    Sebastian Murphy was the face of the storm, Oskar Carls one of its most surprising figures, while the rest of the musicians built the structure that kept everything in motion. Together, they transformed Parque da Cidade into a living organism, powered by bass, drums, guitars, saxophone, sweat, humour and laughter.

    Viagra Boys came through Primavera Sound Porto like an electric storm: they arrived, made everything vibrate, and left behind a crowd exhausted, sweaty and happy.

words: Sofia Reis

photos: Hugo Lima