For anyone who has hit that 30-year mark in life, the milestone often comes with an awful lot of reflection, as well as time to look to the future with hope for what your legacy will hold when the lights go out. In the case of the Dropkick Murphys, they did all of that this past weekend — but they also invited some of their closest friends over to help throw a proper rager, as they’ve been known to do a time or two, to celebrate the occasion.
Dropping anchor on Lansdowne Street late last week for what has proven to be another fine run of St. Patrick’s Day weekend shows, the local (albeit, also global) punk legends returned to MGM Music Hall at Fenway to close out their For The People In The Pit tour in proper fashion, complete with a cavalcade of both deep cuts and fan-favorite hits, loads of Guinness-fueled shenanigans, and a mind-boggling assortment of fellow icons of the Boston Punk and Hardcore scene, including The Showcase Showdown, The Ducky Boys, and current torch-bearers Haywire, among a smattering of other very special guests.
Every night had a little bit of something for everyone, but it was the show on Saturday (March 14) that brought a full serving of what the band had been delivering all over the country for the better part of the past five weeks, joined by The Aggrolites, and the aforementioned freight train of good vibes and active mosh pits in Haywire. To put it lightly, from the line out the door and the folks checking out the Punk Rock and Paintbrushes art exhibit in the lobby, to the young kids passing out Cock Sparrer show flyers and the rail-riders at the barricade, the buzz was palpable.
SoCal crooners The Aggrolites kicked things off with a contagious groove of self-described “dirty reggae,” which, after more than 20 years on the grind, continues to laugh in the face of their punk rock, almost Social Distortion-esque presentation of slicked hair and all black mechanics wear. If you weren’t familiar with them before entering the venue, chances are you may have thought, upon the first note, that they didn’t sonically fit on a Dropkick Murphys show, and that’s exactly what made them a perfect fit for it.
Without pause, the band kicked in the door with booming rhythm and what began to feel like something of a nearly sensual reggae revival as they tore through their catalog of easy-flowing bass beats and invigorating keyboard-heavy tunes, before a rendition of the iconic Beatles track “Don’t Let Me Down” brought their time on the tour to an undeniably spiritual close. The band certainly got things active early on, but with what lurked in the wings, the exercise portion of the night was just getting started.
Powered by a full year of momentum, angst and caffeine, as well as the throughline of hating nazi scumbags, Haywire took to their home stage with little fanfare, as frontman Austin Sparkman needed no introduction before leading a momentary sing-along of “Sweet Caroline” before dragging things straight to the most emotionally aware and well-meaning hell you could imagine. The buzz around Boston’s latest export into the lore of the hardcore scene is no joke, and the band delivered on the hype of being the real deal, without hesitation. Complete with multiple stage dives, crowd surfs, and baseball slides around the stage, Sparkman’s endless supply of energy encouraged the crowd to get on his level, as he spent most of his time on stage at the very edge of the barricade, if not completely engulfed by the crowd, while spitting some of the most “soft lover boy” lyrics you’ll ever hear delivered in the scene.
All of the feel-good vibes and heartfelt messages of unity and taking care of your mental health that Sparkman shared in between songs, most notably felt before he dedicated “Always By My Side” to the late memory of local scene vanguard and all-time good guy Jimmy Flynn, showed an often misunderstood cornerstone of the punk and hardcore scene, masked by an animalistic urge to break shit with good intention, and a primal call to the wild that sought to bring out every bit of sweat and emotion you could muster as the show progressed. If the natural aura of their set wasn’t enough to pull you into the pit like a tractor beam, Sparkman brought out not only Ken Casey for their brand new joint anthem “New England Forever,” which can be found on the new Dropkick Murphys/Haywire split EP of the same name, but also welcomed Colin Of Arabia’s Colin Campbell for a spirited rendition of “Poser Disposer.”
Yeah, all of that happened in a matter of, like 40 minutes. It was an absolutely nutty display of power. The craziest part? We weren’t even at the main event yet. That, of course, was the icing on the cake.
Often times, traditions can get stale, or feel repetitive after awhile, but Ken Casey and the boys have once again proved that, even after years of hearing Sinead O’Connor’s chilling version of “The Foggy Dew,” as long as you show love to your fans, and play the accordion and banjo like total badasses, the St. Patrick’s Day weekend tradition on Lansdowne will never get old, and that intro will always give you chills.
Right on target with their 9 p.m. start time, drummer Matt Kelly counted everyone in with “The Worker’s Song,” and it was all systems go from there on out. While Casey held court at the front of the stage, fending out surges of crowd surfers as they filed over the barricade, Jeff DaRosa was all up in the action as he played every instrument with the exception of maybe a Sax-a-Boom and the magic conch from SpongeBob SquarePants, and both Tim Brennan and James Lynch got to work with the hard-driving riffs that put that little flutter in your stomach every time you hear songs like “The State of Massachusetts,” “Skinhead on the MBTA,” and “Johnny, I Hardly Knew Ya.”
Bassist Kevin Rheault’s booming basslines on “Gonna Be a Blackout Tonight,” “Flannigan’s Ball,” and that long-forgotten song from the soundtrack of The Departed could be felt in the back of your knees, while his backing vocals were particularly feral in the best way possible and added depth to each song, just as he has done since assuming full-time bass duties in 2021.
The energy that the band exudes on stage has never been brought on by just one man, and they continue to play as a unit with a precision and chutzpah that has only helped to catapult them deeper into the spotlight as a result of not only their musical talents, but also their social and political advocacy (as if it weren’t already a very real thing for the first 25-plus years of their career), especially since the current administration took office.
Keeping in the spirit of reminding their audience where they stand on particular causes and issues, Casey took plenty of opportunities to show support from his platform with words of action and a desire to make things better by challenging the powers that be, and belting out socially-driven tracks like “Who’ll Stand With Us?” and “Green Fields of France,” as well as returning the favor and bringing Sparkman back out for a blistering run of their timely re-write of a Warriors Code-era classic, “Citizen I.C.E.”
The balance between playing every fan favorite and dusting off some solid classics of yesteryear is certainly a delicate one for most artists, but it definitely helps when virtually every song you play is a fan favorite in some capacity. After all this time, the band still plays with a passion and enjoyment of their work that you don’t truly see everywhere, and the packed houses that they gather every time the boys are back in town and lookin’ for trouble is quite simply a result of that. Plus, it’s never a bad thing to line up banger after banger to end the night, as they did with a one-two punch of “Captain Kelly’s Kitchen” and “I’m Shipping Up To Boston,” before coming back for an encore that brought things all the way back to the very first song they ever wrote as a band in “Barroom Hero,” before shutting it down for the night with “Rose Tattoo.”
If you’ve ever wondered why each of the four or five shows they play in Boston every St. Patrick’s Day weekend brings a good dose of the same people back night after night, it’s because every show is unique in a way that isn’t marketed as such, like Phish or The Grateful Dead. Instead, the nod to the fans, both new and old, is more subtle than that — even if it’s delivered by the wonderfully ear-piercing squeal of bagpipes. The bond and mutual respect between this band and their fanbase is truly something to be studied by scientists, because it just keeps getting stronger and deeper as the years roll on.
For any of the thousands of BORG-fueled college zombies stumbling through the streets this weekend, as they do every year, who thought it would be cool to act like a buffoon at a Dropkicks show because it’s “just so Boston” or whatever, it may have just been a fun thing to do after waiting in line at the Lansdowne Pub for two hours in the blistering wind to get a pint of Bud Light. But for the real fans — the Doc-wearing lifers, the millennials that got hooked on the band after hearing them sing that song about the Red Sox in 2004, and the walkers and talkers from punk utopias abroad like the Bronx who go through hell and high water to make the annual trek to the city because the band just means that much to them, this particular weekend represented so much more.
It was a celebration, perhaps even a bacchanalia that paid respect to everything that makes the Boston punk and hardcore community so special: The powerhouses of the scene that blazed the trail for our hometown boys, what the band has come to represent in punk music and activism over the course of three decades of showing up and standing on business everywhere they go, and the powerful voices that have emerged as a result of their direct influence, both on and off the stage.
Their impact is immeasurable at this point in their career, but one thing we can say for certain is that even if the whole thing just stopped in its tracks tomorrow and the domination of Dropkick Murphys ceased to exist, it’s still one hell of a legacy for a band that was started on a bet.
All photos by Jason Greenough for Vanyaland.