DMA’S at 02 Academy Leeds on 14 February

There are anniversary tours, and then there are nights that feel like a genuine celebration. At DMA’S’ stop at the O2 Academy Leeds, it was very much the latter.

This is a debut album that solidified itself on a level we have only ever seen before with the likes of Arctic Monkeys’ Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not. Pure indie banger, hit after hit. This album is filled with emotion, which is what made it all the more special to hear the packed out crowd in Leeds bellowing every lyric. Marking a special anniversary of their debut album Hills End, this wasn’t just a nostalgic run-through of old material; it was a reminder of just how monumental that record really is.

From the moment the band burst onto the stage, shadowed with towering strobe lights and gothic red “DMA’S” text behind them, the tone was set. Playing an album in its entirety is always a bold move, but for the Australian trio, it paid off spectacularly. The packed-out crowd didn’t just politely appreciate the concept; they sang every lyric back. If there’s one thing a Leeds crowd knows how to do well, it’s sing.

What made the evening even more special was the crowd itself. It was genuinely touching to see audiences of all ages completely immersed; waves of young fans on shoulders, arms flung around friends. It felt like stepping into a time machine back to a decade ago, when indie guitar bands ruled every playlist and night out.

The nostalgia extended beyond the music. The merch stand was perfectly curated to match the anniversary theme, with record tote bags and bucket hats that were almost impossible to resist. I proudly walked away with a sticker that will take its rightful place on my ever-growing sticker suitcase.

What truly elevated the night was how authentic it felt. This didn’t have the faint whiff of a contractual “it’s been X years, let’s replay the album” tour that some artists fall into. Instead, DMA’S gave Hills End the flowers it deserves. The show felt like a heartfelt reminder of how exceptionally crafted that debut really is. It still sounds fresh. “Step Up The Morphine” remains firmly in rotation on mine and my partner’s playlists, and judging by the crowd reaction, this is a shared love. 

One of the most magical moments of the evening came from track three, “Delete”. Predominantly acoustic and aching with vulnerability, it stands as a modern alternative love song. Hearing hundreds of voices roar it back word-for-word was magic. When the drums crash in towards the end, the stage lights suddenly flooded the audience instead, illuminating pure, unfiltered joy. It must have been an incredible sight from the band’s perspective: witnessing the lasting impact of a song written ten years ago.

As the night edged towards the end, DMA’S dipped into some of their mega hits, including a euphoric singalong to “Silver.” At one point, the crowd took over singing so loud that the band simply danced along, letting Leeds carry the chorus. It was one of those goosebump moments that can’t be manufactured.

Interestingly, DMA’S share many traits with Arctic Monkeys; they don’t rely on between-song chatter. The music flows seamlessly from one track to the next. There’s no need for filler. It’s a quiet confidence, a sense that their purpose is simply to perform. I was reminded of seeing Miles Kane a week before in Nottingham, who carries a similar aura. When the band did finally speak, it was brief and sincere, thanking everyone for coming out and giving a heartfelt shout out to the parents in the balcony who had brought their little ones along. A small but touching gesture that reinforced the warmth in the room.

Overall, it was an incredible evening, a celebration of a debut album that deserves far more credit for just how well-made it is. The love surrounding DMA’S on this tour is real, and witnessing it first-hand felt like a privilege.

Time may move on, trends may shift, but at the end of the day, we’re all still indie boys and girls who just love a guitar-led band and a chorus we can scream at the top of our lungs.

Photography by Bria Stell.

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