Review of St. Patrick's Day Show - New York Press

[Mr. Joyce]

LIVE REVIEW: ST. PAT’S WITH THE POGUES


By Bret Liebendorfer



His wiry mustache, sideburns and soul patch were all dyed green, matching the Jell-o shots he carried in a backpack. Long ago liquefied, these shots were stored in lumpy, single-serving sandwich bags sealed with a knot.

“Just bite the corner, spit out the plastic and indulge,” the strange man at the bar persuaded.

They tasted like cheap vodka with food coloring. Not that I was complaining. The liquor he smuggled into the Continental was an adequate compliment to their $3 Guinness deal. Only on St. Pat’s is New York so friendly.

It was tough to leave the classic dive with its unknown yet gracious drunkard supplying free booze (albeit in syrupy form), but it was time to leave the Pogues on the stereo for the real thing.

My Pogues fascination resurfaced last fall when I discovered If I Should Fall From Grace with God and Rum Sodomy & the Lash on a work computer. “Body of an American,” “A Pair of Brown Eyes” and “The Broad Majestic Shannon” soon rocketed to the top of my iTunes’ Top 25 Most Played.

Later I learned that their first U.S. tour since ’91 included a New York City St. Patrick’s Day blowout. When I wend to order tickets, I was confronted with a bold SOLD OUT next to all four of the city’s shows.

Searching eBay in mid-February uncovered a pair of tickets on St. Paddy’s going for $500. An online article predicted $1,000 for a pair once show time approached. But a Pogues press pass redeemed all my journalistic toil for the Press.

The Pogues have always preferred Times Square for a show, but like the band, it’s not as drunk, wild or dangerous these days. But, unlike tourist central, they’re still worth checking out.

At the Friday show, Shane “The Singing Coma” MacGowan was not only still alive, but appeared in decent shape for a man of his age—48—who condones all drug consumption except heroin.

Sure, he had a beer belly and danced like a creepy, drunk uncle at a wedding, but his teeth had been fixed, his skin radiated and, with his hair blowing from an on-stage draft, he almost looked angelic.

Other members have also slowed down and sobered up, but they played flawless with the same punk-inspired passion they’re known for. A layman would have never thought they stopped touring for upwards of a decade.

All the classics were played with seamless transitions, between MacGowan’s and those penned by others during his exile from the band. Rumors persisted that new material would be tested, but we were all left disappointed on that front.

Besides a haggard old Irish band, St. Patrick’s Day is also about a community of like-minded drunkards. Our bootlegged Jameson mini-bottles kept us going, but it was nothing compared to middle-aged Rob.

He looked like a pitbull: short, stocky, all muscle, no neck and tough as hell. He said he’d driven seven hours and paid $400 for his pair of tickets. Not surprisingly, he was past sloppy when he spilled his beer on my girlfriend who got revenge by spilling the remainder of his beer on him.

During mid-performance, I tripped on a thick black wallet swayed by rambunctious revelers. Although a friend once told me that people don’t appreciate good Samaritans, I called the lone number inside and tracked the owner down, who was insistent on rewarding me with a Pogues T-shirt and 25 bucks.

Sure, keeping the wallet’s $87 would have been a better deal, but that’s not the Irish way. And experiencing the Pogues was enough of a pay off. At least until next years’s St. Patrick’s Day rolls around.

[CraigBatty]

[lavabe]

...but his teeth had been fixed...


what does that mean? which teeth do you mean?

[CraigBatty]

...but his teeth had been fixed...


what does that mean? which teeth do you mean?

The teeth of his saw, apparently....

[Niall]

excellent article, cheers for posting it.

almost angelic?

[Aineen]

his teeth had been fixed, his skin radiated and, with his hair blowing from an on-stage draft, he almost looked angelic.

Beat me to it Mr. Joyce! I was going to post this article - I thought we'd have a bit of fun with it!!

Shall we all try and figure out how many of those Jello shots he sucked down in order to make Mr. Mac look toothed, radiating and angelic???????

[Eric V]

LIVE REVIEW: ST. PAT’S WITH THE POGUES


By Bret Liebendorfer .....

Our bootlegged Jameson mini-bottles kept us going, ....

Ah, yes..... a shampoo boy.

[CraigBatty]

LIVE REVIEW: ST. PAT’S WITH THE POGUES


By Bret Liebendorfer .....

Our bootlegged Jameson mini-bottles kept us going, ....

Ah, yes..... a shampoo boy.

You fucker! I was gonna quote that to YOU, but you'd left!

Shampoo boys!Shampoo boys!Shampoo boys!