-The Independent: The Pogues, Brixton Academy, London

[Zuzana]

The Pogues, Brixton Academy, London

Reviewed by Nick Hasted
24 December 2008
The Independent

Full URL

There are occasional rumbles as to the point of the Pogues' now-annual Christmas reunions (and St Patrick's Day US equivalents). In the seven years since the joyous release of seeing Shane MacGowan return to his old band at the Manchester Academy, these chaotic, maudlin occasions have too often relied on the crowd's memories of what MacGowan might have been singing, if he could only remember his name.

Pogues gig reviews have often resembled medical bulletins on the alcohol intake of their errant singer-songwriter. Fingers have also been pointed at the failure of a man with a great lyric gift to record a single new song in 11 years, content, it has seemed, to hold court in north London's Boogaloo bar until he falls off his stool. But this is a man living the life he wants, with his great work completed – every boozing poet's dream. And any complaints about the Pogues rehashing that songbook again are blasted to tinder tonight.

MacGowan is in committed vocal form, whether grating a roar over his broken teeth on "Fare Thee Well", or contemplating the "world of women and pain" behind it. Despite the pints of clear liquid drunk from a tray, he is fit enough to engage in whirling jigs with right-hand man and tin-whistle player Spider Stacy. He sounds like a man who believes in his songs, and looks like a man who still lives them. The Pogues, meanwhile, have become a crack London-Irish show band, with a foot still in punk attitude. For all the traditional folk whirl of tin whistle, mandolin, accordion and banjo, their beat still sounds like a hundred biscuit tins cracked on happily drunk heads, as Stacy and MacGowan will later prove. Their brass section offer the Celtic soul, and celebration, that Van Morrison long ago retreated from.

They dig deep into their old albums, MacGowan fondly considering the dreams of hopeless lives, rather than lamenting them. The romanticism of these songs explains their appeal to as many rowdy women as men. "Lullaby of London" is soon followed by "Rainy Night in Soho", where MacGowan sings of stumbling into a love who's "a measure of all my dreams" with gruff tenderness. "Fairytale of New York" remains heartbreaking, even before MacGowan takes red-dressed stand-in singer Ella Finer for a waltz, his shoulders dusted by fake snow. They can come back next year.

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©independent.co.uk

[Fionn MacCool]

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz has every Pogues review been the same for the last 5 years? Seems like they just haul out a Shane MacGowan template and update the year, put in an incorrect setlist, and mention alcohol.

[philipchevron]

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz has every Pogues review been the same for the last 5 years? Seems like they just haul out a Shane MacGowan template and update the year, put in an incorrect setlist, and mention alcohol.

In fairness, the Independent has understood the band better than most, historically, and has always been the first to reach for the well-deserved 5 star review when that too is justified. There have been exceptions, as when Deborah Orr wrote a somewhat bewildering and extraneous op-ed piece on Shane in an edition which had already covered our Christmas revels quite comprehensively.

Plus they spent the Iraq War blasting the shit out of Tony Blair and George Bush and even their token "I was for the war as a left-wing humanitarian" loon, Johan Hari, was the first to admit he had been writing complete nonsense.

[Fr. McGreer]

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz has every Pogues review been the same for the last 5 years? Seems like they just haul out a Shane MacGowan template and update the year, put in an incorrect setlist, and mention alcohol.

What? They did not talk about alcohol. Said he sang great and the band were exellent. You try writing a review, it's not easy. I tried on the RDS gig.

[Smerker - still cant log in]

Tell you what, I'll try writing a review.