Dropkicks get the St. Paddy’s party started
”Have you figured out what’s going on in here right now?,” asked Ken Casey two songs in at the Citizens House of Blues on Thursday. By then, the voice of the late Sinéad O’Connor had already wafted in from the beyond to sing “The Foggy Dew” as is tradition, bagpiper Campbell Webster had squeezed out an introductory reel, and a group scream of “Yeah!” — the headliners’ first word delivered from the stage — led straight to the roaring charge of three sub-hardcore punk guitars. Even if St. Patrick’s Day weren’t just around the corner, it could only be the Dropkick Murphys.
By Casey’s reckoning, the Murphys have been making St. Patrick’s Day (and St. Patrick’s Day weekend, and St. Patrick’s Day week) shows an annual Boston tradition for 24 years, and for whatever reason, the singer seemed to be in something of a reflective mood on the first of four consecutive nights of concerts. (The band moves across the street to the MGM Music Hall at Fenway for the rest of the run.) Two-thirds of the setlist drew from their first four albums, all more than two decades old, and two of the remaining eight songs were covers, including a vicious, faithful version of AC/DC’s “T.N.T.” where the crowd immediately launched into an “Oi! Oi!” chant and bassist Kevin Rheault nailed his Bon Scott impression.
But there were more explicit reminiscences throughout the performance. Sometimes it was as simple as Casey recounting how long ago it was when they came up with songs like “Curse of a Fallen Soul” (1998) and “Barroom Hero” (the first song the Murphys ever wrote). On another occasion, he owned that it might be 25 years since they’d even touched the swing and occasional sharp edges of “The Spicy McHaggis Jig,” which predates half the current lineup. And he shouted out departed loved ones, from band namesake John “Dropkick” Murphy to the grandmother whose favorite song was the Clash-with-bagpipes “Fields of Athenry” to Pogues frontman Shane MacGowan, saluted with a singalong of “Dirty Old Town.”
None of it muted the Murphys’ penchant for mischief, though. The galloping “The Boys Are Back” was accompanied by footage of hockey fights, and two men were pulled up from the crowd to sing “Never Alone” as the band pounded out a dead simple riff that swung like a hammer. The energy never waned but always remained tightly focused; songs like “Get Up” generated a wall of noise, with everyone blasting together, while the headlong “Skinhead on the MBTA” and “Worker’s Song” rode on a raging punk momentum. Even the slower sway of the closing “Kiss Me I’m [Expletive]faced” stirred with force on the choruses, all the way until the Murphys careened in a frenzied doubletime at the end. Now they just had to do it three more times.