Growing up in Dublin, in a Status Quo-obsessed household, I never envisioned a day when the double-denim kings of no-nonsense boogie would be calling it quits. That day, at the moment, looks like it has already come, and tonight, that all becomes too real as I pay a visit to see a solo Francis Rossi sit in a red armchair, storytelling and doing bare-boned versions of some of the band’s biggest tunes and a term Rossi hates, “deep cuts.”
Francis Rossi
The Ambassador Theatre, Dublin – 7 April 2026
Words: Brian Boyle
Photography: Lynn Frances Photography
Tonight is billed as An Evening Of Francis Rossi’s Songs From The Status Quo Songbook And More. After the best part of 60 years, that book is so big it has its own personal assistant. But what is within the pages of that sacred opus is a plethora of deeply adored tunes that have a tale to go with them. And who better to tell them than the man who had the balls to release Margarita Time.
Rossi has performed in Dublin umpteen times over the years, in venues of all shapes and sizes. Tonight’s little soirée was at The Ambassador Theatre on Parnell Street, a building that dates back to 1764 and was originally part of a maternity hospital.
Despite being used as a music venue for a while in its infancy, it would be more remembered as a cinema, before returning to hosting concerts in the early noughties. And although Status Quo’s 2013 movie caper Bula Quo never got a screening in this fine building, tonight’s host’s career has had more drama and intrigue than a story of two rock ‘n’ rollers trying to escape the clutches of a Fijian crime lord.
The warned 7.30 pm start was no trick to get the punters out of the pub early and into their seats. His punctual entrance was a swift flick of the curtain and then straight into the spotlight.
Accompanied by producer/engineer Andy Brook, the opening moments were as laid back as you could get.
A fit looking Francis Rossi patrolled the edge of the stage, got his bearings before settling into his plush looking chair. There is no green Telecaster, ponytail or legs akimbo, but that cheeky glint in the eye is still there.
In fact, the early moments were more the work of a stand-up comic, and frankly better than some of the chancers masquerading as comedians today.
After some toilet talk and a bit of Nellie The Elephant, the game face went on, and the opening chords of Pictures Of Matchstick Men filled the room. In My Chair and Spinning Wheel Blues kept the hordes of die-hards faces beaming.
Apart from the music, bladder heckling was a recurring theme in the night. A regular visitor to the white city received special attention from the host, who told him to “slam that thing in the door” on trip number three.
With the result, the poor divil missed a wonderfully country-flavoured Wild Side Of Life.
Despite a nagging frog in his throat, Rossi’s projection was impressive, especially on the always good value Don’t Waste My Time. The crowd did give him a breather with their own roof-raising version of Down The Dustpipe. And wingman Andy Brook’s backing vocals throughout the night did help to ease the heavy load.
A quick story of his time writing songs with the late Bernie Frost in Dromoland Castle in County Clare led beautifully into Rock ‘n’ Roll. This track has lost none of its instant charm. It was like hearing it for the first time again.
Probably the biggest surprise of the night was Burning Bridges.
In all honesty, I avoided the gutted version on Aquostic for years, and when I eventually heard it, I knew I was right to trust my instincts. But even without its familiar synthesised jig this evening, it still would have tempted Michael Flatley out of retirement.
After the intermission, or should I say, mass stampede to drain the spuds, Rossi appeared looking refreshed and rather dapper in a tanned waistcoat, and in turn gave the always welcome What You’re Proposing an extra touch of class.
What followed may be described as lesser spotted Quo, but still a reminder that their catalogue went far deeper than radio-friendly hits and appearances on Top Of The Pops. Somebody Show Me Home, And It’s Better Now, and the lingering Twenty Wild Horses triumphed, and Rossi’s enthusiasm for them was infectious.
The home straight was just an acoustic show of strength. Roll Over Lay Down does its best to eclipse the original, and Rockin’ All Over The World and Down Down are just jolly-ups, whatever way you get them.
In The Army Now did not work as well until the crowd’s precise roar of “stand up and fight” woke it right up.
Francis Rossi ditched the armchair for closer Caroline. Now, whether that be from the result of a previous heckle or an exercise in circulation, it did not matter. The effect was unifying, and everybody saluted one of Quo’s finest anthems.
In whatever form you hear Status Quo’s music, the low-fat version or with a stack of Marshalls, Rossi proved tonight that their music will stand the test of time. In fact, it would most likely survive a nuclear attack and emerge in better shape than a Giant Burrowing cockroach.
Their music evokes all kinds of memories. I can still see my mother and her auntie walking up Elm Mount Avenue in Dublin, with the 1982 album protruding from one of the shopping bags, and my brother waiting at the front gate, pacing on the spot.
Tuesday nights in Dublin do not get much better than this.
An Evening Of Francis Rossi’s Songs From The Status Quo Songbook And More continues in Waterford on 10 April 2026. For tickets and full dates, visit francisrossi.com/tour.
