Live Review: The Pogues – Rum, Sodomy & The Lash 40th Anniversary
29 March 2026 at The Forum, Melbourne, Australia
Photos & Review by Jeana Thomas
Review by Jeana Thomas Photography
It didn’t take long for the room to feel like it was tipping slightly off its axis – in the best possible way of course.
The Pogues weren’t just back in Australia after 14 years, they’d arrived with purpose, celebrating 40 years of Rum, Sodomy & the Lash – released in 1985 and steered by Elvis Costello, it didn’t follow a path – it cut its own. With a title nodding to a quote often linked to Winston Churchill, the record fused Irish folk tradition with punk’s rough edges in a way that felt reckless and completely new. Four decades on, it hasn’t softened – it’s only grown sharper, the grit still intact, the stories still hitting like they’ve just been dragged in off the street.
This wasn’t a standard reunion lap. What hit the stage was a carefully built collective: original members James Fearnley, Jem Finer and Spider Stacy anchoring things, surrounded by a rotating cast of guest vocalists; Daragh Lynch, Iona Zajac and John Francis Flynn, alongside a full-bodied band that included Holly Mullineaux, Jordan O’Leary, Fiachra Meek, Jim Sclavunos, Pete Fraser, Daniel Hayes and Ian Williamson. It could’ve felt fragmented on paper, but live it opened out instead, wide and fluid rather than scattered. Lisa O’Neill also joined the fold on her first trip to Australia, bringing a voice that felt both unvarnished and magnetic – low, earthy and deeply expressive, with a kind of lived-in crackle that gave the songs extra weight without ever overpowering them.
The support for the night initially eased in through the shadowy, spellbinding presence of John Francis Flynn, whose set didn’t feel like your typical opener, it was more like something slowly unfolding around you. There was an eerie pull to it, his voice carrying a raw, timeworn quality that felt dragged up from somewhere deep and distant. Drawing on traditional Irish folk, but reshaping it into something far less predictable, his songs bent and shifted, threading old-world textures through strange, modern edges. It wasn’t built to hype the room in the usual sense, but that’s exactly why it worked, it settled the space into a kind of quiet intensity, setting the stage perfectly for what was about to follow.
When The Pogues came on stage, they went all in on Rum Sodomy & the Lash, running it front to back without trimming a thing, deep cuts and all. Released back in 1985, the album still sounds like it’s got dirt under its fingernails – raw, poetic, a little unruly and hearing it front-to-back gave it a kind of narrative weight you don’t always get in a mixed set.
I noticed earlier on just how naturally the different voices slipped into the material. No one tried to imitate what came before. Daragh Lynch brought a worn, almost conversational tone to certain tracks, while Iona Zajac added a sharper, more modern edge that cut through beautifully. John Francis Flynn, meanwhile, had this grounded, almost hypnotic presence that pulled you into the quieter moments. Instead of feeling like substitutions, it felt like the songs were being passed along – reinterpreted, but still intact.
When The Pogues kicked things off with The Sick Bed of Cúchulainn, there was no slow build, it was straight into the deep end. The track’s frantic pace and wild, story-like lyrics instantly set the mood, giving the set a kind of loose, unpredictable edge right from the first note. Pulled from Rum Sodomy & the Lash, it felt less like an opener and more like being dropped mid-chaos, in the best way, like the night was already in full swing before you’d even caught your breath.
By the time “A Pair of Brown Eyes” came around, you could feel the whole room subtly shift with it. There is something about that song live – it doesn’t just hit—it hangs in the air a little longer than expected. You could feel people squeezing closer to the front, like they were catching something fragile mid-air and then, without warning, it would swing back the other way – fiddles cutting through, drums picking up, everything surging again.
“A Rainy Night in Soho” was one of those moments where time sort of loosened its grip. It stopped feeling like a set and started feeling like something we were all stitching back together on the spot. Voices everywhere, some steady, some barely holding tune, but all of them fully in it, no hesitation. It’s the kind of song that doesn’t belong to one era and hearing it here proved that.
It’s only right to acknowledge that Shane MacGowan is no longer here and while his absence is felt, it’s never heavy in a way that stalls the night. Instead, it sits quietly in the background, woven through the lyrics, the rough edges, the way the songs are given space to breathe and sway. No one tries to fill his place and that restraint feels respectful; the music carries his spirit without forcing it. It turns the performance into something gently reflective – less about loss, more about the legacy he left behind continuing to move, loud and untamed, through every note.
Next out comes “Dirty Old Town.” If there was a point where the entire venue tipped into something bigger than itself, it was here. Arms linked, drinks sloshing, strangers fully invested in each other for four minutes straight. It’s an anthem, sure, but live it feels more like a ritual.
Knowing the album sits comfortably in Rolling Stone’s “500 Greatest Albums of All Time” makes sense when you hear it played like this. Not preserved behind glass, but stretched out, tested and still standing strong. Its influence across punk, folk and everything in between, feels obvious in hindsight, but in that room, it just felt immediate.
What I kept coming back to throughout the night was how unpolished it all felt – in the most deliberate way. The interplay between instruments, the slight roughness around the vocals, the way songs stretched or snapped depending on the moment, it all added up to something that felt real. Not rehearsed into submission, not chasing perfection.
Walking out, there wasn’t that usual post-show drop. It felt more like you’d been part of something that didn’t tidy itself up for you and didn’t need to. A 40-year-old album, a band reshaped but not diluted and a room full of people willing to meet it halfway.
Not many shows feel like they’ve got history running through them. This one did and it didn’t sit quietly either.
Sheldon Ang Media would like to thank Menard PR, Face to Face Touring and Mellen Events for the accreditation.
About the Writer: Originally hailing from Western Australia, Jeana Thomas now thrives in the vibrant city of Melbourne. Amidst the hustle of her role in a prominent teaching hospital, she also navigates the dynamic world of entrepreneurship as the owner of a medical transcription company. Beyond her professional endeavours, Jeana finds solace and joy in the rhythm of music, the allure of travel and the artistry of photography, with a particular passion for wildlife photography.
About SAM: Sheldon Ang Media (est. May 2022) have been accredited to over 200 of the hottest acts including Taylor Swift (ERAS Tour in Sydney), Coldplay (Perth Melbourne), Backstreet Boys, KISS, Iron Maiden, RHCP and P!NK with reviews shared by the likes of Suzi Quatro, Belinda Carlisle, Roxette, Tina Arena, UB40, Delta Goodrem, Leo Sayer and Tina Arena on social media. The founder has interviewed rockers Suzi Quatro, Ace Frehley (KISS), John Steel (The Animals), Frank Ferrer (Guns N’ Roses), Phil X (Bon Jovi), Andrew Farris (INXS), and over 70 other artists. He’s also a contributor on Triple M Radio as a music journalist.
