AUGUST 23rd, 2023
FLOGGING MOLLY
Review by Metallic Barbie
Photos by Peter Ruttan

http://www.metaltitans.com/concertpics/flogging-molly-summer-tour/

Freedom, Frothy stout, and “Fuck” incarnate, Flogging Molly got my ass-draggy-self back in drinking shape last night at The Vogue in Vancouver, BC.  Full of piss, vinegar, and cheeky jokes, the septet rocked the venue simply walking on stage.

Preceded by Texas-based alt-country group The Vandoliers, followed by 20-year-strong punk group The Bronx, Flogging Molly had a relatively warmed up crowd, liquored and ready to get Celtic.  Former Fastway frontman (and guitarist) Dave King conducted fans like a mad jester, poking fun at folks in the crowd only after poking himself a time or two. Violinist and tin flutist wife Bridget Regan, string man Spencer Swain (banjo, mandolin), bassist Nathen Maxwell, skin slammer Mike Alonso, accordionist Matt Hensley, and guitarist Dennis Casey ripped through an 18-song set, followed by a two-song encore, sprinkling insight and dance instructions throughout.

Young or old, fit or feeble, there wasn’t a pair of feet that could keep themselves on the floor the whole show.  Fist pumps and foot stomping, cries of victory and singalong were prevalent as the speedy, mostly traditional Celtic notes rang out.  Serving up old faves like opener “Drunken Lullabies”, “What’s Left of the Flag”, and “(No More) Paddy’s Lament”, Flogging Molly mixed in a handful of new bangers off their 2022 album, Anthem, including “The Croppy Boy ‘98”, “A Song of Liberty” and “(Try) Keep the Man Down”.  Regardless of the age of the tune, the crowd didn’t miss a beat, fully immersing themselves in every single note.

Polishing off the set with “Black Friday Rule” and (of course) “Salty Dog”, Flogging Molly embraced fans, downed Guinness, and established themselves as a band of and for the people – just raunchy, imperfect joes looking to have a good time while making and playing great music.

Never a dull moment and never to be underestimated, Flogging Molly forage their way up to Palmer, Alaska next while Vancouverites sit in anxious anticipation of their next opportunity to crush a beer and dance a fool to their Celtic rock stylings.