The Pogues
Saturday, March 11, 2006; Page C04
Christopher Porter
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Astooped, whiskey-bottle-toting Shane McGowan appeared to be 47 sheets to the wind when he took the stage with the reconstituted Pogues at the 9:30 club on Thursday. McGowan walked up to his mike, opened his toothless mouth and said, "Blargh garhde darlgzane argha." In fact, he pretty much said nothing comprehensible other than the slurred song titles he struggled to read from the set list posted at his feet.
McGowan's legendary bad habits are what made his band mates kick him out of the Pogues in 1991, but he's somehow still alive today -- if just barely. With his choppers gone, McGowan's jaw has the scrunched-up shape of a weathered accordion bellow, and his singing has morphed from rough-voiced crooning to mush-mouthed gargling. It was sad to watch this genius of song reduced to a shuffling fool (think Ozzy Osbourne), and it was awkward to witness how the audience roared at McGowan's every slug from the whiskey bottle and his every unintelligible utterance.
Even so, the more McGowan chugged, the better his singing became -- such dark irony. And as the nearly two-hour, 26-song concert progressed, the Pogues, too, played with more focus, energy and joy. Their punk-informed, trad-Irish ensemble sound still shoots sparks.
The capacity crowd likely couldn't have cared less that they were watching a ravaged human being perform; the chance to hear amazing McGowan songs such as "A Pair of Brown Eyes," "A Rainy Night in Soho" and "Old Main Drag" overrode any such concerns.
The highlight was, of course, "Fairytale of New York," one of the loveliest songs McGowan ever penned. Ella Finer, the daughter of Pogues banjoist and guitarist Jem Finer, crooned the female parts originally sung by Kirsty MacColl, and she more than held her own. With confetti "snow" falling down on them, Ella and McGowan joined together for an awkward dance during the song's concluding section. It was a sweet moment in an otherwise bittersweet concert.
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