When it comes to Christmas classics few songs warm the cockles of this cynical old heart like the Pogues’ “Fairytale of New York.” It’s simply the best! The song is almost 30 years old and still speaks volumes to many of us irreverent revelers. Too many Christmas Carols are just too damn sappy. I love Christmas just as much as the next guy but let’s face it, some Christmas Carols can be a little over the top. Contrary to a certain Orange Man and his cabinet, I’m never dreaming of a “white” Christmas. At best that means it’s going to be slippery and I’m going to wipe out on some patch of snow and ice. If I say I want to spend Christmas on my ass, I’m talking about sitting at the dinner table with friends and loved ones while laughing, sharing gifts, and telling great stories, not in a snow bank or slick driveway. The more irreverent the Christmas Carol the better as far as I’m concerned!
Of course, I’ve been known to make exceptions. I worked in a record store for three months around the holidays in 1989 and I’ll always have a soft spot in my heart for “It’s a Charlie Brown Christmas” by the Vince Guaraldi Trio and Ella Fitzgerald’s “Ella’s Swinging Christmas.” I loved how when we played those CDs in the store we’d immediately sell copies to the most eclectic mix of people. It was very High Fidelity before High Fidelity was even written. “I’m now going to sell three copies of Ella’s Swinging Christmas,” we’d say. And we did! Grandparents shopping for their grandkids, parents shopping for their kids and teenagers shopping for friends all fell in love with those CDs. Oh the joy when some punk rock kid would drop their loot on the counter that included stuff like Minutemen CDs and Minor Threat t-shirts and you’d see “Ella’s Swinging Christmas” in the pile. I’d ask if that was a gift for an older relative and every time they’d look and smile, “No way! This is for me!”
Still, Shane MacGowan’s Fairytale has been a poetic, lyrical and musical masterpiece for the disenfranchised. We were the ones who refused to embrace the over-commercialization and sappiness that often ‘tis the season. His ability to capture Irish melancholy and storytelling in the form of a song throughout his career has been nearly unrivaled and Fairytale might just be his best.
“It was Christmas Eve, babe…”
The first time I heard that line I was puzzled, “Have The Pogues gone sappy?”
“…In the drunk tank…”
Ha! Nope! The story of two anti-heroes just took off from there; they were both lovable and beautifully flawed.
Shane was born on Christmas Day in 1957, which may have contributed to his crankiness around Christmas. That meant he always shared every birthday with a certain Biblical figure (Could that also mean Shane MacGowan is the Second Coming? I warned you I’m all about the irreverence.) and because his birthday fell on Christmas he probably got screwed as a kid when it came to getting presents.
The first time I saw the Pogues in the 80’s I saw first-hand his legendary drinking habits. It wouldn’t be the last. Shane and the boys each drank about a pitcher of beer with every two-minute long song they sang. It was a delightful, drunken, sloppy mess but still enchanting in it’s own right. The Pogues were always known as one the biggest party bands and at one point Shane drank so much they threw him out of the band. What was Shane’s response? He went out on tour with a side-project called Shane MacGowan & the Popes! That’s right, the Popes! Not to be confused with the Pogues! I’d guess he quite possibly knew his way around that “drunk tank” he wrote about.
Throughout my years as a DJ on WFNX (1989-2001) whenever we had a station promotion event that was even remotely Irish they’d almost always ask me to do it.
“Is Kennedy free? Give it to him!” I imagined was how it went down during the Promo Meetings.
When a short-lived, local TV show called Edge TV needed to interview someone from the station about a piece they were doing on the Irish band the Cranberries, I was the guy. When the station needed a DJ at a not-very-authentic Irish pub in Enchanting Lynn by the Ocean (not to be confused with Manchester by the Sea) on St Patrick’s Day, they called me. I can’t even begin to tell you just how disenchanting it was to tell these blue-haired ladies in their 60s waiting to hear real Irish music like Tommy Makem & the Clancy Brothers that, in fact, Sinead O’Connor and U2 were Irish.
Shane MacGowan & the Popes were scheduled to play a show at Avalon in June 2000. Of course, they called me to introduce the band.
I had to work the overnight shift at midnight that night and the band was scheduled to go on around 10pm. Perfect! I’d get to see some of the show and make some cash for the introduction.
Around 9:45pm, I checked in with the stage manager, Tim McKenna, and told him I was there for the intro. I’d just hang out by the side of the stage until they were ready.
“No problem, Chris,” he said. “They should be ready in a bit. I’ll grab you.”
I stood by the side of the stage and pondered what to say. The beer companies footed the bill for these introductions so you needed to slip their names in during your rap. It being an Irish show, almost everyone had a Guinness in their hands but strangely the night was sponsored by Budweiser. I knew I couldn’t get away with the typical “Show us your Buds” kind of thing because no one had any to show. I hated that cheesy stage BS anyway.
Around 10:20pm, I caught Tim’s eye and he gave me an “it’ll happen soon” nod.
At 10:45pm, Tim was looking a little stressed but told me it’d be any minute.
The crowd had been drinking for hours by then and with no band on stage to distract them they drank even more and were becoming restless. There was a door by the backstage area that had been opened to the street to let some fresh air in. I saw Tim run down the street around 11:10pm carrying a big white bucket. Not a good sign. I needed to leave by 11:25pm the latest to get to my show on time. This wasn’t looking good.
At 11:15, Tim appeared on the stage so I ran over to him.
“Tim,” I said. “I have to go soon, I’m on the air tonight. What’s up?”
I worked with Tim countless times and I never saw him lose his cool. He was always the consummate professional.
“DID YOU JUST SEE ME RUNNING DOWN THE STREET WITH A BUCKET?” he yelled. “That’s because the tour bus pulled up in front of Bill’s Bar at 10am this morning and Shane’s been drinking whiskey ever since! He can barely stand up! I don’t think the show is going to happen and YOU’RE going to have to tell THEM it’s cancelled!”
We both looked out at the crowd growing more drunk and restless by the second. Years before, I saw a rival DJ tell a very rowdy crowd at the Worcester Centrum that Deep Purple had to cancel and someone threw a beer bottle at her. I had no interest in dodging pints of Guinness (or worse) thrown at me by a bunch of drunken Irishmen that night. I thought about running out that open door as soon as Tim turned away but I didn’t. I decided to give it another few minutes.
At 11:25pm, Tim sprinted across the stage to me.
“They’re ready to go!” he shouted with his finger in my face. “Make this the FASTEST introduction of your life!”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” I shouted into the mic. “I’m Chris Kennedy from WFNX! Thanks for coming out the WFNX Budweiser Concert Series!” I panicked. All the prep I planned to say an hour earlier raced out of my head and out that backstage door. “Show us your Buds!” No Buds were shown. Crap! I didn’t want to say that! “MAKE SOME NOISE FOR SHANE MACGOWAN & THE POPES!” Phew!
Shane hit the stage like a drunken steamroller and he stumbled across the stage right at me. He laughed maniacally and looked like he couldn’t walk a crooked line. All I saw was his crazy, mangled teeth chomping away with laughter the closer he got. I debated if I should get out of his way and watch him crash right off the stage or brace myself to catch him and hope he didn’t knock us both off of it. I only had time to brace myself for impact! He got about five feet from me, took a hard right turn toward the mic and immediately broke into “If I Should Fall From Grace With God.” Oh, the irony! I got to the side of the stage and watched him slur his way through the song without missing a note.
I hoped he’d be able to finish the set. I had no plans of going back up on stage to say the show had to be stopped. I quickly made my way through the crowd and headed to the station. I got there at 11:59pm!
While I still have nightmares of those mangled teeth charging at me across the stage like a drunken, demonic Pac Man, I still can’t help but love Shane’s exceptional storytelling as well as the beauty and Christmas cheer of Fairytale of New York! It’s still the best Christmas song for those of us that like a little irreverence with our peace on Earth. Happy holidays!
Here is the video for the song in all it’s glory! Complete with the angelic voice of the late, great Kirsty MacColl and Matt Dillon playing an NYC cop!
Duke of Dead Air 