KISS ME, I'M ... FLOGGEDview image
NEW YORK POST
KISS ME, I'M ... FLOGGED
By DAN AQUILANTE
SOME bands are about the brain. Others, like Flogging Molly, are all about heart. On Thursday, at the second show of its two-night engagement at the Fillmore, this Irish and American Celtic punk band transcended "Danny Boy" stereotypes with an explosive rock concert. It's not clear whether the band fueled the audience's fire, or vice versa.
Had the body-surfing, fist-pumping crowd been on the street, the NYPD riot squad would have been called to quell the ruckus. The scene was about as crazy as a concert gets - without the need of medics.
Frontman Dave King, a redheaded southpaw guitarist, is a crooner on the band's studio records such as the upcoming "Float." But in concert, King screams and shouts like a sword-waving chieftain.
The man is clearly aware of the power of his Irishness in a city like New York. With a can of Guinness in hand, the sweaty singer scanned the crowd and announced, "Being a redhead means I'm just one step closer to hell."
King rocks a nothing-to-lose attitude when he becomes engrossed in a song, and his fervor made it clear he'd rather play for sinners than sing for saints.
But there were saints in the house - like bassist Nathen Maxwell, who literally never missed a beat despite having imbibed to the point that he actually vomited onstage while thumping the bottom lines. Maxwell never stopped playing or singing, although nobody in the band wanted to share a mike with him after the incident.
While the scene went far off the gross-out meter, King seemed to be amused by his bandmate's onstage indiscretion, telling the house as he took a swallow of brew, "God, it's thirsty work."
Without the tin whistles, mandolins and the stomach Steinway, Flogging Molly would be a punk band; without the amps and guitars, they'd be traditional. Yet together the whole is greater than sum of its parts.