At The Commodore on Sunday, April 12.

When the Straight interviewed Glasvegas just before Christmas last year, the Scottish foursome was ready to cap a busy year split between touring and recording with a well-needed break. Four months on, the group is back hitting it hard in support of its eponymous debut. The current trek kept Glasvegas from spending Easter at home with family, but rather than sulk over missing out, the ensemble gleefully plowed through its catalogue on Sunday night for a near-capacity Commodore crowd.

With blue lights frantically flickering across its amplifiers, the Glasgow act took to the stage just after 10:30. Pumped up by the audience’s soccer-hooligan chant of “Here we fucking go,” crew-cutted guitarist Rab Allan and bassist Paul Donoghue jumped off drum risers and swung their instruments wildly during opener “Geraldine”, a hard-rocking ode to the band’s merch girl.

While Glasvegas’s wall-of-noise approach to indie-pop plays well on stereo speakers, the crunching mix of warbling licks and overly distorted melodies proved hard to pull off live. Most songs coasted by on thick waves of indecipherable guitar fuzz. Drummer Caroline McKay’s reliance on a steady ’60s girl-group beat further added to the confusion, while the constant use of echo on James Allan’s vocals made it even more difficult to understand the singer thanks to his thick Glaswegian accent.

“It’s My Own Cheating Heart That Makes Me Cry” suffered the most from the night’s muddied sound as the six-string work of Rab Allan got lost in the sonics. “Flowers & Football Tops” fared far better. While the tune’s distortion-laden first half had much of the crowd pogoing along (and at least one couple making out on the dance floor), the song’s finest moment was when the band dialled down the fuzz so James Allan could incorporate an oddly tender rendition of “You Are My Sunshine”. Rab Allan kept the mood tranquil as he traded his axe for an organ on the shoe-gazing hymnal “Ice Cream Van”.

The night’s sojourn into the serene ended as Glasvegas launched into the rollicking punk number “Go Square Go”. As the guitars blazed full force on the anthemic chorus, the crowd up front went nuts with one last chant of “Here we fucking go!”

While he kept mum between tracks, James Allan ad-libbed a line about Vancouver’s beauty on “Please Come Back Home” before declaring “I fucking love you” to his adoring fans. Showing the love right back, the throng sung the third verse of sock-hop-styled closer “Daddy’s Gone” as McKay’s tambourine lightly tapped in the background. Dazzled by their participation, Allan stood on-stage waving and blowing kisses to his makeshift bandmates for at least a couple of minutes before finally leaving the stage. As grating feedback gave way to the in-house DJ, fans filed out seemingly convinced that Glasvegas’s odd moments of clarity were well worth skipping seconds at Easter dinner.

Glitzy California synth-blues trio Von Iva seemed an odd choice to open the night, which lead singer Jillian Iva readily admitted. “We’re not what you expected,” the chatty frontwoman said between ham-fisted potshots directed at Lindsay Lohan and Britney Spears. Unfortunately, the act’s dance-beat tunes were just as unimpressive as the singer’s banter. Between Iva’s watered-down Karen O impersonation, a lack of hooks, and a truly unfortunate a cappella scatting session, Von Iva did little to move the crowd.