THE DROPKICK MURPHYS + The Tossers @ Metropolis

By Josh Mocle - The Kids Are So-So - 11/17/2007

It was bound to happen eventually. In fact, I’m surprised it’s taken this long for me to write a Dropkick Murphys review. The effect this band has had on me, the music I choose to listen to and in some ways the way I live my life in general, is immense (and slightly pathetic). This could either be the easiest review I’ve ever written or the hardest. That having been said, I’m committed to not letting this thing spiral into a mindless love-fest, however, I’m entirely incapable of judging whether it does or not. That one’s up to you.

Chicago’s The Tossers opened the show and to be honest, I can’t remember a band who made me physically yawn more (my lack of sleep the night before had NOTHING to do with it.) I’ve never seen a band who seems to solely exist in order to open for Flogging Molly (thus, them opening for Dropkick is also acceptable…I guess). However, unlike Flogging Molly, there really isn’t anything original about The Tossers. The potential for greatness is definitely there, what with the violin, tin whistle and electric mandolin, but they just don’t pull it off. Their stereotypical Celt-Punk really fell flat for me and just came off as a watered-down version of the band they were warming the audience up for. However, the (I can only assume) mostly Irish crowd loved it, so to each their own.

Next up were The Briggs out of Los Angeles who thoroughly disappointed me when I saw them open for Bad Religion earlier this year but who managed to completely turn it around for this performance. Taking the stage not unlike The Bouncing Souls (which makes sense given they’re pretty much the same band from the opposite coast), they roared through about forty-five minutes of aging pop-punk goodness. Like many of their contemporaries (the aforementioned Bouncing Souls, but also the Street Dogs and to an extent, Rancid), they deliver the same played out method of songwriting and performance but still manage to keep it interesting and fun; certainly not the greatest of all performances, but definitely not the worst.

Which brings us to Dropkick. The situation almost felt like a déjà vu (probably since this was my fourth time experiencing it) as the crowded room darkened, the “let’s go Murphys” chants began and the traditional Irish folk tune that I still haven’t been able to identify began playing on the house speakers. A moment later the band entered and ripped into “Famous for Nothing,” the first track on their new record, The Meanest of Times. While this made perfect sense given that this was the album release tour (dubbed, probably un-ironically, “the meanest of tours”) for that record, the fact that they didn’t open with “For Boston” was slightly disappointing. What followed was an hour and a half of Dropkick classics, ranging from their street punk songs like “The Gang’s All Here” to their traditional Irish-infused punk tracks like, amongst others, “Fields of Athenry.” Peppered in between were tracks off the new record, all of which managed to translate well live, as most Dropkick songs tend to do. A personal favorite was their performance of “Flannigan’s Ball,” which featured Spider Stacey of The Pogues and the mighty Ronnie Drew on vocals on the record. It still maintained its intensity when sung live by only Ken Casey and Al Barr, Dropkick’s usual mouth pieces. I have to admit though, while the band was still as tight as ever, other than the new stuff there really wasn’t anything else, well, NEW about their performance. While some bands manage to keep themselves consistently relevant and entertaining performance after performance, I’ve found that after a while (a.k.a. four shows over the course of two years), Dropkick kinda become slightly stagnant. Given my stance as a New England exile in Montreal, I’ve often equated Dropkick shows with a sense of “going home again.” However, much like actually going home, it does get boring after a while. Although there certainly were highs (which were very high) during the performance, the lows were also incredibly low.

But in the end none of that really matters because after three performances they finally got around to playing “Tessie,” which is enough to make the night a resounding success in this Red Sox fan’s head.

Go Sox.

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