Better Than: Thanking the sports gods for the defeat of the evil empire known as the New England Patriots.
“In Ireland, we don’t have a super bowl,” said Dave King, leader of Celtic punkers Flogging Molly. “We have real football!” And the inebriated crowd roared with approval.
Within the muggy confines of the House of Blues, King could have shouted just about anything and received similar adulation. It was that kind of evening and Flogging Molly is that kind of band. Even when performing songs from Float, the band’s most recent effort, the audience shouted along with every chorus. It was some form of drunken ESP as the (surprisingly) large crowd engaged in a Flogging Molly love feast that had the feel of soccer match. Indeed, several fans sported jerseys from various Irish soccer clubs.
Despite muddy sound and odd, post-Super Bowl setting, the six guys and one girl who make up Flogging Molly hit on all cylinders, spewing forth an accelerated, fiddle-fueled folk/punk that was catchy, loud and anthemic. Even if one didn’t know the songs, you find yourself singing along to whatever words you can decipher through the deafening barrage. The crowd was an interesting mix of young and old, skinheads and skaters and lots of large women attired almost exclusively in green. By the end, most were covered in sweat and beer as the anthems continued to echo across the west end. -- Darryl Smyers
