The Pogues – NZICC Theatre: April 11, 2026 (13th Floor Concert Review)
The Pogues played Auckland’s newly-minted International Convention Centre last night. Theatre Peter was there to review both.
I know what you’re thinking. The Pogues without Shane McGowan is like … well, like The Doors without Jim Morrison, or The Triffids without David McComb. Could they be any good without that irreplaceable figurehead and force? The Doors tried (famously asking Graham Brazier to be a tour replacement); The Triffids still do tour, with guest-star appearances to fill in the whole left by the main-man’s departure.
That’s what these Pogues have done – three original members, a 14-piece band (fourteen band members!) and a guest list of star vocalists to flesh out the tunes. (And it doesn’t hurt they have a few instrumentals to call on too.) And it works!
But first, getting there…
The International Convention Centre
Getting to the venue is almost as awkward as it’s commissioning, designing, and building. And talking about Auckland’s new International Convention Centre could encompass all the worst things about politics, cronyism, urban design, and architecture.
Corporate architecture slung between two five-lane highways. A laneway from nowhere to nowhere. A venue stuck up on level five. It shouldn’t work, but it almost does. The entry atrium hosts large artworks (a five-story mural by Shane Cotton & Poutomanawa by Lyonel Grant) and natural timber lining up the five storey – warm timber; cold building. But the sterility recedes as people come to liven it up. The parade of escalators works particularly well, generating the buzz of movement, offering opportunities to promenade.
That the building turned out in any way presentable at all is a miracle.
That it gives us a gig venue for 2,850 seated (or 4,000 standing) is the blessing we didn’t know was in the wings. It gives Auckland a venue fitting neatly between the Spark Arena for bands of 13,000+ and the Powerstation’s 1,000. And it works … pretty well.
There are a few Logan Concrete Centre vibes, and a similar capacity. My partner thought it had all the ambience of a low-budget lecture hall. But while access to and from the building itself is difficult (negotiating Hobson & Nelson St on foot is nobody’s idea of a good night out; zero provision for taxis out front to get away is just stupid) access to the theatre itself once inside is easy and straighforward, getting in and out for mid-gig bathroom and beer is easy, and the lowish stage keeps an intimacy you don’t get in the bigger Spark Arena. And with lights down and that large band onstage, you feel connected.
As a venue, I think it’s a winner. Let’s hope promoters find the right bands to fill it.
But who else came here to review the building? On to the main acts…
John Francis Flynn
John Francis Flynn…a complementary aperitif before the main course. He had his own take on the new Convention Centre. “Like an emergency storm shelter, this building.”
There’s plenty of age already in the audience as Flynn and the other member of his band Pete Fraser wander on stage to quietly start the evening. With Fraser on sax and Flynn on guitar and occasional tin whistle, they give us a slow build-up of slightly gothic-sounding Celtic tunes, adding their own take.
‘Wind Shakes the Barley’ never sounded like this. With a bone-dry sense of humour, Flynn confided that while there is no gaol in Tralee, the joke of ‘Tralee Gaol’ is that “Tralee itself is the gaol.” And they have their own version of trad. Tipperary number ‘Kitty,’ also covered by The Pogues.
Best was their third number, Fraser & Flynn interweaving guitar and sax lines over a drum machine. Like upmarket buskers whom you’d take the time to stay and watch.
The Pogues
And then the main act! By the time they come on there’s a growing sense of anticipation. The audience crosses the generations, fathers with sons & daughters; mothers with children, grandparents and assorted whanau.
This gig is the last of an 11-stop Australasian tour, and it boasts original members James Fearnley, Jem Finer, and Spider Stacy, along with a collective of special guest musicians Holly Mullineaux (bass), Jordan O’Leary (banjo), Fiachra Meek (pipes/whistles – Alfi), Jim Sclavunos (drums – Bad Seeds), plus brass section Pete Fraser, Daniel Hayes, and Ian Williamson.
We loved that each of the three times they came back onstage, the three original members all came out first, with a respectful distance by the “cast of thousands” (Spider’s description) of their supporting musicians.
As if that wasn’t enough to fill the large stage, they were joined by a rotating cast of legendary and lauded ring-ins like Daragh Lynch, Iona Zajac, Lisa O’Neill, and John Francis Flynn to vocalise and take up guitar, harp and other instruments to celebrate and bring these songs back to life.
To be fair, they hardly needed guest vocalists – the audience could do it for them! There was a reverence to the singing. Not trying to copy, nor put their own spin, delivering Shane’s songs with the respect they deserved. And with the right amount of cheek, Lisa O’Neill and Iona Zajac combining especially well for main-set closer ‘London Girl.’
The ostensible reason to tour is celebrating the 40th anniversary of album Rum, Sodomy & the Lash. What a great excuse for a party. The great thing about that was virtually every song was drawn from either Lash, their first album Red Roses for Me, or classic four-song EP Poguetry in Motion. From my perspective this was ideal – this is their best material.
And as they poured out all those “songs of rain, trains, death and misery” (Spider’s description again) that band were as tight as heaven’s gate. Interplay of tin whistles, banjos, uiellean pipes, mandolins, acoustic guitars, hurdy gurdies and harps – not an electric guitar in sight – all played together as if by telepathy. (Maybe a bit of waywardness in the brass, who sometimes seemed a little out of step.) They were kept solid underneath by energetic bass player Holly Mullineaux from band Goat Girl (great they’ve kept the tradition of the female bass player begun by Cait O’Riordan) and by drummer Jim Sclavunos – who was so magnificent he needed two drum kits.
The energy was all there, playing was sharp, quips barbed, all performed with genuine enjoyment – there was a definite last-night end of school vibe, with the promised cyclone giving a sort of pre-apocalyptic vibe to the evening.
A pause in the programme before Rainy Day in Soho gave Spider Stacy the chance for us to remember the man for whom the vacant microphone was kept at dead centre, the young man who could write these songs of such brilliance, warmth, darkness, humanity, and fun.
Highlight for me were the two songs in the first encore, ‘Streams of Whiskey,’ and ‘Boys from County Hell.’ The fire kept burning through a second encore to “fuck Trump” of ‘Greenland Whale Fisheries.’
Energy to burn! It took it out of them – James Fearnley collapsing and ‘dying’ under the weight of his accordian before that second encore. Fortunately, he was “resurrected” to return and play a blinder. (And how many times can you say you’ve cheered an accordionist to the death?)
As the lights came up for the end of show (and, delightfully, we discover that this might be a venue without a curfew) the band linked arms right across the stage to take a well-deserved bow. It was a magical evening.
As that famous EP’s title has it, it was Poguetry in Motion.
THEATRE PETER
Click on any image to view a photo gallery by Chris Zwaagdyk:
The Pogues:
John Francis Flynn:
