Another Day Another Obit

And now the word comes that Shane MacGowan has shuffled off.  And as my friends agreed, the only real surprise here is that he made it as far as he did.

Of course, that's been said of many a rock and roll death (Keith Moon, por favor?).  Which doesn't make it any less true.  Or any less of an obvious cliche.

But I come to praise and to bury.  Because lost in the inevitable tide of no surprise  will be the fact that MacGowan really was a "mad genius", as Rolling Stone called him, a brilliant writer and a soulful singer, and there was a time when The Pogues were one of the bands I listened to almost every day.  And while its become fashionable to write them off as a simply a drunken goof, a bad parody of Irish culture, blasting out lowest common denominator Irish pub songs at punk rock volume and tempos, anyone who ever actually listened to their albums would know that their musical ambition was broad and rich.  They reached for a lot, and they got it.  Rolling Stone (again) once described them, not as a folk-punk band but rather a rock and roll band that drew on Irish folk music the same way the Rolling Stones drew on r&b.  Nailed it.  

Their SF debut show at the Fillmore in December `87 will go down as one of the most memorable of my days.  Not just for the music but for the crowd as well - I'd never heard so many Irish accents in my life.  The opening act barely finished their set, the second was booed off after a few songs.  That left a 90 minute gap while waiting for the Pogues, the crowd getting drunker and rowdier.  I was beginning to expect a no-show, but when they finally took the stage, Joe Strummer filling in for an injured Phil Chevron, MacGowan grabbed the mike and slammed it into his forehead, and they were off.  The floor of the Fillmore, then pending an earthquake-safety retrofit, sagging under the crowd's stomping; Strummer taking center stage, to a hero's welcome, for a Pogues-style romp through "London Calling" and "I Fought the Law".  A show-stopping "Maggie May" to close the show.

I would see them several more times, including an early 90's show with Strummer again filling in, this time for MacGowan.  It was good, and Strummer was one of my heroes, and a guy with many qualities that MacGowan himself had:  a great writer, a powerful, emotional singer (even if he didn't have a great voice), and charisma to spare.  But it wasn't the same, and I'd really rather have had Shane up there, and seen Strummer fronting a reunited Clash.

I saw them again one last time on the early 00's, this time with MacGowan back on board.  He was overweight, bloated and puffy, his famous Stonehenge teeth now gone completely.  Spider Stacy had to sing the fast songs, as Shane couldn't get his wind up for them anymore.  It started poorly, songs stopping and re-starting, MacGowan calling out stagehand to fuck with the little fan he had behind his monitor to keep him comfy.  "Shaddap yah morons!" he snarled at the crowd up front, his only intelligible stage comment that night.  

But four or five songs in, they went in to "The Old Main Drag", their rewrite (I'm convinced) of "Cocksucker Blues".  And suddenly the muse arrived, and MacGowan, ghastly and out of shape, somehow connected to his old self and gave out a deeply felt and moving rendition of his own tale of waste and loss.  From there they managed to ride it all the way to the show's end, with a fine "Fairytale of New York", and MacGowan and his gf dancing in fake snow.

Still by now The Pogues were, like most of their peers, an oldies band.  There would be no new music from them, and only a couple solo outings from MacGowan, both having some good moments, but both missing the magic of his old band.  The Popes, his new backing outfit (I also saw MacGowan with them, some years before the reunion show), just didn't have that something special.  As for the MacGowan-less Pogues, who also recorded a couple more albums, it likewise just wasn't quite the same.

And it saddened me then and it saddens me now to see how MacGowan pissed away his talent in a torrent of alcohol and substance abuse, and how his fans defended him against any criticism of same (any posting on Pogues-related forums expressing a sentiment like this one were sure to bring on a hailstorm of "fuck offs").  

Because I'll say again, MacGowan was a genius.  And I'll never stop shaking my head over the loss of what might have been.  But I'll also not stop cherishing what he did give us.

Earworm/Mindworm

You ever have the inner jukebox suddenly just pull out a song you may not even have listened to in awhile and lodge it in your mind?  Happens to me plenty.  Yesterday for no apparent reason the late lamented Gun Club's "Ghost on the Highway" suddenly demanded to be heard.  This continued until this morning when it was inexplicably joined by Them's "Gonna Dress In Black".  Go figure.

Meanwhile, Back to the Girls

As Yee Loi continues to push their new EP, they also finally pulled off their first live appearance, at (apparently) a party for their label, Modern Sky.  Unplugged, but based on the clip here (despite some odd edits), successful.  And it seems my other favorite teenage girl band will be hitting the road in summer as the opening act on Green Day's "Saviors" tour.