Shane MacGowan seemed like the stuff of legend even at the height of his powers in the 1980s, the decade in which he fronted Irish folk-rock outfit the Pogues. MacGowan, who died Thursday at age 65, styled himself as part of a long lineage of Irish writers and singers, revitalizing traditional sounds and themes for a post-punk world.
Initially, MacGowan played punk, singing with the Nips until they flamed out early in the 1980s. At that point, he discovered his voice within folk music, forming the Pogues with a bunch of similarly minded punk refugees. The Pogues may have sounded traditional, but their spirit was vulgar and vital, a bracing departure from the glitz of new wave and a needed counterpoint to the dreariness of the Thatcher era.
For a few years, MacGowan’s flame burned brightly. The Pogues’ albums “Rum Sodomy & the Lash” and “If I Should Fall From Grace With God” overflowed with inventive, evocative songs that propelled MacGowan into the front ranks of songwriters. Due to persistent battles with alcoholism and other personal demons, MacGowan couldn’t maintain this level of creativity. After the Pogues kicked him out in the 1990s, he released only two albums of original material. But that brief flurry of Pogues songs — bold, profane, colorful and humane — retained their power and revealed their depths over the years.
Here are 10 essential Shane MacGowan songs.
1. The Pogues, “Streams of Whiskey” (1984)
On “Streams of Whiskey,” MacGowan positions himself directly in the Irish literary tradition, recounting a conversation he had with writer Brendan Behan while in the throes of a dream, and finding answers where the wind blows and whiskey flows. It’s a romantic notion that’s upended by the gallop of his bandmates, who play this ramble with urgency.
2. The Pogues, “The Sick Bed of Cuchulainn” (1985)
Teeming with allusions to Irish legends — ancient mythology intertwines with figures who loomed large in the country’s contemporary lore — “The Sick Bed of Cuchulainn” is a dizzying example of MacGowan’s prowess as a writer.
3. The Pogues, “A Pair of Brown Eyes” (1985)
Many of the earliest Pogues songs channeled their punk defiance into Irish folk, which is why “A Pair of Brown Eyes” seemed so clarifying when it was pulled as a single from their second album, “Rum Sodomy & the Lash.” As replete with literary allusions as “The Sick Bed of Cuchulainn,” “A Pair of Brown Eyes” is the opposite of defiance: it’s MacGowan discovering deliverance in yearning. The tale of two strangers bonding over tales of loss exchanged in a barroom, “A Pair of Brown Eyes” sways and sighs, its shared melancholy serving as a tonic to weary souls.
4. The Pogues, “Sally MacLennane” (1985)
An ode to the local pub that serves as the fulcrum of a neighborhood, “Sally MacLennane” seems full of good cheer, but this tale of a man who leaves home only to return years later to discover all his friends are dead doesn’t have a happy ending: Upon learning that his world has changed, he decides to drink himself to death. MacGowan sings this story not as a lament but rather a celebration of life, content in the belief that there will be a reunion of the departed somewhere down the road.
5. The Pogues, “Dirty Old Town” (1985)
Ewan MacColl wrote “Dirty Old Town” as a tribute to his hometown of Salford, Lancashire, back in 1949. The Dubliners popularized the tune 20 years later, but after the Pogues cut the song, “Dirty Old Town” forever became associated with the band. The key to the enduring power of the Pogues’ cover lies in MacGowan’s gnarled delivery. That earthiness helps make a song that was already part of the modern folk pantheon seem eternal, as if etched in stone.
6. The Pogues, “A Rainy Night in Soho” (1986)
From the “Poguetry in Motion” EP, “A Rainy Night in Soho” marks a break from the rough, ribald energy of “Rum Sodomy & the Lash” even though it, like its preceding LP, is produced by Elvis Costello. Where Costello spent “Rum Sodomy & the Lash” capturing an unadorned Pogues, here he adds pianos, strings and horns, bringing a cinematic sweetness to one of MacGowan’s loveliest songs.
7. The Pogues, “Body of an American” (1986)
Another masterpiece from “Poguetry in Motion,” “Body of an American” is a full Irish wake distilled into a five-minute epic. The departed in question is big Jim Dwyer, an American boxer of Irish descent who is being prepped for his last voyage across the Atlantic. There’s plenty of revelry but it ends on a moment of quiet instrumental contemplation, a fitting farewell.
8. The Pogues, “Fairytale of New York” (1987)
By a wide measure MacGowan’s best-known song, “Fairytale of New York” has become a seasonal staple, a tune that’s hauled out every Christmas holiday. On the surface, it seems too profane and hard-boiled to be an enduring standard — it ends with MacGowan and duet partner Kirsty MacColl hurling insults at each other — yet underneath the invective lies a bruised romanticism. Most Christmas songs champion close-knit families. “Fairytale of New York” flips this notion on its head by celebrating star-crossed lovers, gamblers and bums in a drunk tank — all the misfits who are searching for a family of their own on Christmas Eve. On “Fairytale of New York,” they find each other, if only for a moment.
9. The Pogues, “If I Should Fall From Grace With God” (1988)
Splitting from Elvis Costello, the Pogues teamed with Steve Lillywhite, the producer who helped U2 achieve its majesty on “War.” Lillywhite performed a similar feat on “If I Should Fall From Grace With God,” capturing the Pogues in full roar, as MacGowan spits out a proud, belligerent goodbye. The song makes death sound like the ultimate defiance.
10. Shane MacGowan and the Popes, “That Woman’s Got Me Drinking” (1994)
MacGowan’s muse left him not long after he exited the Pogues, but he did manage one great song with his final band, the Popes. “That Woman’s Got Me Drinking” is a raucous, breakneck blast, an unabashed rocker that harkens back to his punk beginnings in the Nips.
Shane MacGowan seemed like the stuff of legend even at the height of his powers in the 1980s, the decade in which he fronted Irish folk-rock outfit the Pogues. MacGowan, who died Thursday at age 65, styled himself as part of a long lineage of Irish writers and singers, revitalizing traditional sounds and themes for a post-punk world.
Initially, MacGowan played punk, singing with the Nips until they flamed out early in the 1980s. At that point, he discovered his voice within folk music, forming the Pogues with a bunch of similarly minded punk refugees. The Pogues may have sounded traditional, but their spirit was vulgar and vital, a bracing departure from the glitz of new wave and a needed counterpoint to the dreariness of the Thatcher era.
For a few years, MacGowan’s flame burned brightly. The Pogues’ albums “Rum Sodomy & the Lash” and “If I Should Fall From Grace With God” overflowed with inventive, evocative songs that propelled MacGowan into the front ranks of songwriters. Due to persistent battles with alcoholism and other personal demons, MacGowan couldn’t maintain this level of creativity. After the Pogues kicked him out in the 1990s, he released only two albums of original material. But that brief flurry of Pogues songs — bold, profane, colorful and humane — retained their power and revealed their depths over the years.
Here are 10 essential Shane MacGowan songs.
1. The Pogues, “Streams of Whiskey” (1984)
On “Streams of Whiskey,” MacGowan positions himself directly in the Irish literary tradition, recounting a conversation he had with writer Brendan Behan while in the throes of a dream, and finding answers where the wind blows and whiskey flows. It’s a romantic notion that’s upended by the gallop of his bandmates, who play this ramble with urgency.
2. The Pogues, “The Sick Bed of Cuchulainn” (1985)
Teeming with allusions to Irish legends — ancient mythology intertwines with figures who loomed large in the country’s contemporary lore — “The Sick Bed of Cuchulainn” is a dizzying example of MacGowan’s prowess as a writer.
3. The Pogues, “A Pair of Brown Eyes” (1985)
Many of the earliest Pogues songs channeled their punk defiance into Irish folk, which is why “A Pair of Brown Eyes” seemed so clarifying when it was pulled as a single from their second album, “Rum Sodomy & the Lash.” As replete with literary allusions as “The Sick Bed of Cuchulainn,” “A Pair of Brown Eyes” is the opposite of defiance: it’s MacGowan discovering deliverance in yearning. The tale of two strangers bonding over tales of loss exchanged in a barroom, “A Pair of Brown Eyes” sways and sighs, its shared melancholy serving as a tonic to weary souls.
4. The Pogues, “Sally MacLennane” (1985)
An ode to the local pub that serves as the fulcrum of a neighborhood, “Sally MacLennane” seems full of good cheer, but this tale of a man who leaves home only to return years later to discover all his friends are dead doesn’t have a happy ending: Upon learning that his world has changed, he decides to drink himself to death. MacGowan sings this story not as a lament but rather a celebration of life, content in the belief that there will be a reunion of the departed somewhere down the road.
5. The Pogues, “Dirty Old Town” (1985)
Ewan MacColl wrote “Dirty Old Town” as a tribute to his hometown of Salford, Lancashire, back in 1949. The Dubliners popularized the tune 20 years later, but after the Pogues cut the song, “Dirty Old Town” forever became associated with the band. The key to the enduring power of the Pogues’ cover lies in MacGowan’s gnarled delivery. That earthiness helps make a song that was already part of the modern folk pantheon seem eternal, as if etched in stone.
6. The Pogues, “A Rainy Night in Soho” (1986)
From the “Poguetry in Motion” EP, “A Rainy Night in Soho” marks a break from the rough, ribald energy of “Rum Sodomy & the Lash” even though it, like its preceding LP, is produced by Elvis Costello. Where Costello spent “Rum Sodomy & the Lash” capturing an unadorned Pogues, here he adds pianos, strings and horns, bringing a cinematic sweetness to one of MacGowan’s loveliest songs.
7. The Pogues, “Body of an American” (1986)
Another masterpiece from “Poguetry in Motion,” “Body of an American” is a full Irish wake distilled into a five-minute epic. The departed in question is big Jim Dwyer, an American boxer of Irish descent who is being prepped for his last voyage across the Atlantic. There’s plenty of revelry but it ends on a moment of quiet instrumental contemplation, a fitting farewell.
8. The Pogues, “Fairytale of New York” (1987)
By a wide measure MacGowan’s best-known song, “Fairytale of New York” has become a seasonal staple, a tune that’s hauled out every Christmas holiday. On the surface, it seems too profane and hard-boiled to be an enduring standard — it ends with MacGowan and duet partner Kirsty MacColl hurling insults at each other — yet underneath the invective lies a bruised romanticism. Most Christmas songs champion close-knit families. “Fairytale of New York” flips this notion on its head by celebrating star-crossed lovers, gamblers and bums in a drunk tank — all the misfits who are searching for a family of their own on Christmas Eve. On “Fairytale of New York,” they find each other, if only for a moment.
9. The Pogues, “If I Should Fall From Grace With God” (1988)
Splitting from Elvis Costello, the Pogues teamed with Steve Lillywhite, the producer who helped U2 achieve its majesty on “War.” Lillywhite performed a similar feat on “If I Should Fall From Grace With God,” capturing the Pogues in full roar, as MacGowan spits out a proud, belligerent goodbye. The song makes death sound like the ultimate defiance.
10. Shane MacGowan and the Popes, “That Woman’s Got Me Drinking” (1994)
MacGowan’s muse left him not long after he exited the Pogues, but he did manage one great song with his final band, the Popes. “That Woman’s Got Me Drinking” is a raucous, breakneck blast, an unabashed rocker that harkens back to his punk beginnings in the Nips.
Shane MacGowan seemed like the stuff of legend even at the height of his powers in the 1980s, the decade in which he fronted Irish folk-rock outfit the Pogues. MacGowan, who died Thursday at age 65, styled himself as part of a long lineage of Irish writers and singers, revitalizing traditional sounds and themes for a post-punk world.
Initially, MacGowan played punk, singing with the Nips until they flamed out early in the 1980s. At that point, he discovered his voice within folk music, forming the Pogues with a bunch of similarly minded punk refugees. The Pogues may have sounded traditional, but their spirit was vulgar and vital, a bracing departure from the glitz of new wave and a needed counterpoint to the dreariness of the Thatcher era.
For a few years, MacGowan’s flame burned brightly. The Pogues’ albums “Rum Sodomy & the Lash” and “If I Should Fall From Grace With God” overflowed with inventive, evocative songs that propelled MacGowan into the front ranks of songwriters. Due to persistent battles with alcoholism and other personal demons, MacGowan couldn’t maintain this level of creativity. After the Pogues kicked him out in the 1990s, he released only two albums of original material. But that brief flurry of Pogues songs — bold, profane, colorful and humane — retained their power and revealed their depths over the years.
Here are 10 essential Shane MacGowan songs.
1. The Pogues, “Streams of Whiskey” (1984)
On “Streams of Whiskey,” MacGowan positions himself directly in the Irish literary tradition, recounting a conversation he had with writer Brendan Behan while in the throes of a dream, and finding answers where the wind blows and whiskey flows. It’s a romantic notion that’s upended by the gallop of his bandmates, who play this ramble with urgency.
2. The Pogues, “The Sick Bed of Cuchulainn” (1985)
Teeming with allusions to Irish legends — ancient mythology intertwines with figures who loomed large in the country’s contemporary lore — “The Sick Bed of Cuchulainn” is a dizzying example of MacGowan’s prowess as a writer.
3. The Pogues, “A Pair of Brown Eyes” (1985)
Many of the earliest Pogues songs channeled their punk defiance into Irish folk, which is why “A Pair of Brown Eyes” seemed so clarifying when it was pulled as a single from their second album, “Rum Sodomy & the Lash.” As replete with literary allusions as “The Sick Bed of Cuchulainn,” “A Pair of Brown Eyes” is the opposite of defiance: it’s MacGowan discovering deliverance in yearning. The tale of two strangers bonding over tales of loss exchanged in a barroom, “A Pair of Brown Eyes” sways and sighs, its shared melancholy serving as a tonic to weary souls.
4. The Pogues, “Sally MacLennane” (1985)
An ode to the local pub that serves as the fulcrum of a neighborhood, “Sally MacLennane” seems full of good cheer, but this tale of a man who leaves home only to return years later to discover all his friends are dead doesn’t have a happy ending: Upon learning that his world has changed, he decides to drink himself to death. MacGowan sings this story not as a lament but rather a celebration of life, content in the belief that there will be a reunion of the departed somewhere down the road.
5. The Pogues, “Dirty Old Town” (1985)
Ewan MacColl wrote “Dirty Old Town” as a tribute to his hometown of Salford, Lancashire, back in 1949. The Dubliners popularized the tune 20 years later, but after the Pogues cut the song, “Dirty Old Town” forever became associated with the band. The key to the enduring power of the Pogues’ cover lies in MacGowan’s gnarled delivery. That earthiness helps make a song that was already part of the modern folk pantheon seem eternal, as if etched in stone.
6. The Pogues, “A Rainy Night in Soho” (1986)
From the “Poguetry in Motion” EP, “A Rainy Night in Soho” marks a break from the rough, ribald energy of “Rum Sodomy & the Lash” even though it, like its preceding LP, is produced by Elvis Costello. Where Costello spent “Rum Sodomy & the Lash” capturing an unadorned Pogues, here he adds pianos, strings and horns, bringing a cinematic sweetness to one of MacGowan’s loveliest songs.
7. The Pogues, “Body of an American” (1986)
Another masterpiece from “Poguetry in Motion,” “Body of an American” is a full Irish wake distilled into a five-minute epic. The departed in question is big Jim Dwyer, an American boxer of Irish descent who is being prepped for his last voyage across the Atlantic. There’s plenty of revelry but it ends on a moment of quiet instrumental contemplation, a fitting farewell.
8. The Pogues, “Fairytale of New York” (1987)
By a wide measure MacGowan’s best-known song, “Fairytale of New York” has become a seasonal staple, a tune that’s hauled out every Christmas holiday. On the surface, it seems too profane and hard-boiled to be an enduring standard — it ends with MacGowan and duet partner Kirsty MacColl hurling insults at each other — yet underneath the invective lies a bruised romanticism. Most Christmas songs champion close-knit families. “Fairytale of New York” flips this notion on its head by celebrating star-crossed lovers, gamblers and bums in a drunk tank — all the misfits who are searching for a family of their own on Christmas Eve. On “Fairytale of New York,” they find each other, if only for a moment.
9. The Pogues, “If I Should Fall From Grace With God” (1988)
Splitting from Elvis Costello, the Pogues teamed with Steve Lillywhite, the producer who helped U2 achieve its majesty on “War.” Lillywhite performed a similar feat on “If I Should Fall From Grace With God,” capturing the Pogues in full roar, as MacGowan spits out a proud, belligerent goodbye. The song makes death sound like the ultimate defiance.
10. Shane MacGowan and the Popes, “That Woman’s Got Me Drinking” (1994)
MacGowan’s muse left him not long after he exited the Pogues, but he did manage one great song with his final band, the Popes. “That Woman’s Got Me Drinking” is a raucous, breakneck blast, an unabashed rocker that harkens back to his punk beginnings in the Nips.
Shane MacGowan seemed like the stuff of legend even at the height of his powers in the 1980s, the decade in which he fronted Irish folk-rock outfit the Pogues. MacGowan, who died Thursday at age 65, styled himself as part of a long lineage of Irish writers and singers, revitalizing traditional sounds and themes for a post-punk world.
Initially, MacGowan played punk, singing with the Nips until they flamed out early in the 1980s. At that point, he discovered his voice within folk music, forming the Pogues with a bunch of similarly minded punk refugees. The Pogues may have sounded traditional, but their spirit was vulgar and vital, a bracing departure from the glitz of new wave and a needed counterpoint to the dreariness of the Thatcher era.
For a few years, MacGowan’s flame burned brightly. The Pogues’ albums “Rum Sodomy & the Lash” and “If I Should Fall From Grace With God” overflowed with inventive, evocative songs that propelled MacGowan into the front ranks of songwriters. Due to persistent battles with alcoholism and other personal demons, MacGowan couldn’t maintain this level of creativity. After the Pogues kicked him out in the 1990s, he released only two albums of original material. But that brief flurry of Pogues songs — bold, profane, colorful and humane — retained their power and revealed their depths over the years.
Here are 10 essential Shane MacGowan songs.
1. The Pogues, “Streams of Whiskey” (1984)
On “Streams of Whiskey,” MacGowan positions himself directly in the Irish literary tradition, recounting a conversation he had with writer Brendan Behan while in the throes of a dream, and finding answers where the wind blows and whiskey flows. It’s a romantic notion that’s upended by the gallop of his bandmates, who play this ramble with urgency.
2. The Pogues, “The Sick Bed of Cuchulainn” (1985)
Teeming with allusions to Irish legends — ancient mythology intertwines with figures who loomed large in the country’s contemporary lore — “The Sick Bed of Cuchulainn” is a dizzying example of MacGowan’s prowess as a writer.
3. The Pogues, “A Pair of Brown Eyes” (1985)
Many of the earliest Pogues songs channeled their punk defiance into Irish folk, which is why “A Pair of Brown Eyes” seemed so clarifying when it was pulled as a single from their second album, “Rum Sodomy & the Lash.” As replete with literary allusions as “The Sick Bed of Cuchulainn,” “A Pair of Brown Eyes” is the opposite of defiance: it’s MacGowan discovering deliverance in yearning. The tale of two strangers bonding over tales of loss exchanged in a barroom, “A Pair of Brown Eyes” sways and sighs, its shared melancholy serving as a tonic to weary souls.
4. The Pogues, “Sally MacLennane” (1985)
An ode to the local pub that serves as the fulcrum of a neighborhood, “Sally MacLennane” seems full of good cheer, but this tale of a man who leaves home only to return years later to discover all his friends are dead doesn’t have a happy ending: Upon learning that his world has changed, he decides to drink himself to death. MacGowan sings this story not as a lament but rather a celebration of life, content in the belief that there will be a reunion of the departed somewhere down the road.
5. The Pogues, “Dirty Old Town” (1985)
Ewan MacColl wrote “Dirty Old Town” as a tribute to his hometown of Salford, Lancashire, back in 1949. The Dubliners popularized the tune 20 years later, but after the Pogues cut the song, “Dirty Old Town” forever became associated with the band. The key to the enduring power of the Pogues’ cover lies in MacGowan’s gnarled delivery. That earthiness helps make a song that was already part of the modern folk pantheon seem eternal, as if etched in stone.
6. The Pogues, “A Rainy Night in Soho” (1986)
From the “Poguetry in Motion” EP, “A Rainy Night in Soho” marks a break from the rough, ribald energy of “Rum Sodomy & the Lash” even though it, like its preceding LP, is produced by Elvis Costello. Where Costello spent “Rum Sodomy & the Lash” capturing an unadorned Pogues, here he adds pianos, strings and horns, bringing a cinematic sweetness to one of MacGowan’s loveliest songs.
7. The Pogues, “Body of an American” (1986)
Another masterpiece from “Poguetry in Motion,” “Body of an American” is a full Irish wake distilled into a five-minute epic. The departed in question is big Jim Dwyer, an American boxer of Irish descent who is being prepped for his last voyage across the Atlantic. There’s plenty of revelry but it ends on a moment of quiet instrumental contemplation, a fitting farewell.
8. The Pogues, “Fairytale of New York” (1987)
By a wide measure MacGowan’s best-known song, “Fairytale of New York” has become a seasonal staple, a tune that’s hauled out every Christmas holiday. On the surface, it seems too profane and hard-boiled to be an enduring standard — it ends with MacGowan and duet partner Kirsty MacColl hurling insults at each other — yet underneath the invective lies a bruised romanticism. Most Christmas songs champion close-knit families. “Fairytale of New York” flips this notion on its head by celebrating star-crossed lovers, gamblers and bums in a drunk tank — all the misfits who are searching for a family of their own on Christmas Eve. On “Fairytale of New York,” they find each other, if only for a moment.
9. The Pogues, “If I Should Fall From Grace With God” (1988)
Splitting from Elvis Costello, the Pogues teamed with Steve Lillywhite, the producer who helped U2 achieve its majesty on “War.” Lillywhite performed a similar feat on “If I Should Fall From Grace With God,” capturing the Pogues in full roar, as MacGowan spits out a proud, belligerent goodbye. The song makes death sound like the ultimate defiance.
10. Shane MacGowan and the Popes, “That Woman’s Got Me Drinking” (1994)
MacGowan’s muse left him not long after he exited the Pogues, but he did manage one great song with his final band, the Popes. “That Woman’s Got Me Drinking” is a raucous, breakneck blast, an unabashed rocker that harkens back to his punk beginnings in the Nips.