Dublin has a long and proud tradition of iconic poets and writers. The works from the gifted quills of Yeats, Behan, Beckett, Wilde, and Joyce continue to amaze and shape the literary world to this day. Well, just south of the River Liffey, the 74 bus will take you on a 20-minute ride to Leighlin Road in Crumlin, a place that reared an equally resonating wordsmith, one Philip Parris Lynott.
The Dedication To Phil Lynott
3Arena, Dublin – 4 January 2026
Words: Brian Boyle
Photography: Steven Maloney
Forty years to the day since his passing, Phil Lynott’s absence still hurts deep. But tonight we celebrated his life and basked in renditions of his seminal Thin Lizzy masterpieces, in the city he adored.
The Dedication is not your run-of-the-mill gig. There are people in tonight who hopped off planes from Australia, France, America, New Zealand, Germany and God knows how many more. For this is a pilgrimage to a cathedral of worship.
But not one for quiet reflection, a temple of rousing chorality would be more apt.
Needless to say, there are Lynott and Lizzy garments everywhere you look, and some original tour shirts that have aged remarkably well.
No doubt there are a lot in tonight who will be back to work tomorrow after the Christmas break, but that has not dampened spirits one bit. The psyched vibe in the building is palpable.
The night came to life with Grand Slam, Lynott’s short-lived venture post-Lizzy.
Laurence Archer, the only original blood in the band, kick-started proceedings with a melody of Lizzy riffs, including Don’t Believe A Word and Sarah on a striking yellow Gibson Les Paul.
Then the evening’s touchpaper was well and truly lit. Archer teed up the riff to Dedication, and this two years in making celebration was denoted in grand fashion.
As Grand Slam never released an album with Phil Lynott, to some in here tonight, they probably were a curiosity. But as soon as frontman Mike Dyer marked his territory, that went out the window. He manned the stage like he owned the place, covering every available inch on offer.
Diehards around me were getting right into it as tunes like Nineteen, Military Man, and Harlem reigned down with force. But it was Dyer’s genuine gratitude on Sisters Of Mercy and recalling the day he took the call from Archer to help reform Grand Slam that left the biggest mark. An exuberant 40-minute set that seriously whetted the appetite for what was to come.
MC’ing for the night was long-serving Irish broadcaster Dave Fanning. Love, hate, or just plain tolerate him, there is no denying he has been part of the fabric of Irish music for the best part of 50 years. His story of Phil introducing him to David Gilmour was worth the listen, despite the whiskey-breath heckler behind me grumbling, “fucking name dropper.”
Christened The Rockers for the evening, an all-star supergroup with Guns N’ Roses guitarist Richard Fortus, the well-travelled Marco Mendoza, and the always exhilarating Ricky Warwick turned the excitement dial right up.
Along with Brian Downey, Scott Gorham and Darren Wharton, they helped fly the flag post-Lynott with passion and respect, despite scorn from some over precious gatekeepers. When they plugged in Are You Ready, they just picked up where they left off.
Although the set was fleeting, it was ram-packed with quality. Jailbreak and Do Anything You Want To always sound in a good place when belted out by a pumped-up Ricky Warwick. The drive and work ethic of this man is always a pleasure to witness.
Warwick led the charge on a savage Massacre, meaning every word of the bloodied lyrics, while his wingman, Mendoza, pounded his bass like a war drum.
It must be said, it was not all about the star-studded trio. Drummer Grant Nicholas is a well-regarded safe pair of hands, and he bound everything together with his renowned finesse.
And guitarist Michal Kulbaka just reaffirmed his status as one of the most gifted guitarists around today, and he linked in effortlessly with Fortus like he was playing with him all his life.
The home straight of Cowboy Song leading into The Boys Are Back In Town was, as you would expect, an emotionally charged riot. Without doubt, one of the best half hours you could ever wish to have.
It is worth mentioning that Richard Fortus flew in from St Louis on the morning of the gig and was not seen the rest of the night. Now that is what you call dedication.
What came next was a monumental treat. Orchestral arrangements of hard rock classics have always been an intriguing listen. But the 45-piece RTE Concert Orchestra doing it with Thin Lizzy gems is simply next level.
First up, we had the remarkable Peter M. Smith, whose performances as Phil Lynott in the stage musical Moonlight have earned him well-deserved praise.
And while he does bear a resemblance to the great man, he is so much more than a doppelgänger. His mic failing right as he was letting out his first words was cruel, but hearing his stirring take of Still In Love With You made that a distant memory.
The returning Mike Dyer acquitted himself well on polite versions of Rosalie and Whiskey In The Jar, but you got the impression he was aching to go up a gear.
Event headliner Darren Wharton could not get on the stage quick enough. He elevated The Sun Goes Down with a slick reworking that was just made for this kind of arrangement.
When I first saw Mr Warwick with The Almighty many moons ago, the last thing I expected was to see him rubbing shoulders with the RTE Concert Orchestra. But his slot with Dancing In The Moonlight and Don’t Believe A Word could not have sounded more natural.
Not that any of these men were upstaged, but the National Children’s Choir with its 140 young voices all in Phil Lynott t-shirts doing The Boys Are Back In Town, and Sarah was definitely one of those special moments.
Then, for the final chapter, with the mighty Darren Wharton’s Renegade. And seeing as we had pretty much everything tonight, the Lancashire frontman heralding the start of Angel Of Death with a keytar did not look at all out of place.
The fact that The Rockers had already done uniform versions of Jailbreak and Are You Ready slightly diluted Renegade’s. But they got the full exclusive with the all-conquering Emerald, a song that packs a stronger punch when played on these shores.
When the opening bars of Chinatown rang out, a bass-less Marco Mendoza invaded the stage halfway through for a duet of sorts, which was a surprise. To be fair, it was a party, but they could have at least given him his own microphone.
The freewheeling Cold Sweat did its usual demolition job with guitarists Vinny Burns and Andy Moore peppering out that timeless riff with genuine relish. That was the perfect moment to remember the great John Sykes, and the same with the heavy-hearted Black Rose, which was dedicated to Gary Moore.
Another run through of Cowboy Song and The Boys Are Back In Town would have been better served with maybe a bit of Killer On The Loose or Waiting For An Alibi, but hats off to Wharton, he did a right job on them.
Laurence Archer and Peter M. Smith popped back for the proper version of Rosalie, which was just an all-out knees up.
We were hearing about Eric Bell’s appearance a lot in the evening, but that did not make his entrance any less emotional. As he tickled out the first chords to Whiskey In The Jar, you would be forgiven for having had watery eyes. I know I had.
The poster might have told you tonight was a celebration of the life and music of Phil Lynott, but after absorbing the past four hours, this truly was a giant glass raised to the whole Thin Lizzy family.
Phil, along with his mother Philomena, Gary Moore, and John Skyes, will have raised one right back.
Tonight was one for the ages, emotionally joyous and bloody great craic all in one. It hit us all like a hammer, God damn.
