— Sylvia Patterson
Chris Heath and William Shaw were already on board by this time so the Smash Hits staff that I became familiar with in 1988 was beginning to form. Still, I'm not sure either of them needed a job at a top pop mag to launch their writing careers nearly as much as Sylvia Patterson. Without getting the call from ver Hits she might never have gotten out of the Scottish provinces. Dundee's loss was pop journalism's gain.
In early '86, however, she's young and wet behind ver ears and, she admits in her excellent autobiography I'm Not with the Band, "didn't have a clue" what she was doing. So besotted was she by the sex "appeal" of Mick Hucknall that she personally delivered an issue with him on the cover to him in Edinburgh — only to get the brush off from the most sex-obsessed pop star of his generation. But this devotion, spirit and love for the singers and musicians she wrote for helped make her such a brilliant critic.
But she's yet to come out of her shell in the spring of this year. Her reviews are thoughtfully considered and well written but far from what we would come to expect in the years ahead. She was already up on some of the Hits jargon and liberal use of inverted commas but you can sense she's not quite comfortable. She coos over some faves (The Pogues, obviously, but also The Stones and Tom Waits) but isn't quite ready to spit all over the records she doesn't rate. She'll get there.
The Pogues are so well-remembered for their great 1987 Christmas carol "Fairytale of New York" that few know anything else by them anymore. But while Eurythmics enjoyed a decade of Top 10 action, Shane MacGowan's crew only had a small number of hit singles, so the fact that one of their numbers touched such a nerve is impressive. And, happily, it isn't one that relies too much on being a tedious drinking song from the Emerald Isle. Poguetry in Motion is their first material that takes them away from their (supposed) Irish roots.
Opening with the striking "London Girl", The Pogues make either a deliberate or unintentional claim to the territory of an increasingly irrelevant Dexys Midnight Runners. There's a definite Celtic sound but one that's augmented by nods to pop, punk and soul. Shane MacGowan's strung out, Joe Strummer-esque vocals make him a perfect anti-blue eyed soulman heir to Kevin Rowland. The song is a great way to kick off the E.P. and a document of what a terrific live group they were supposed to be.
But like Rowland before him, MacGowan had a tender side and he never showed it off better than on "A Rainy Night in Soho" which follows "London Girl". Reflective of a drunken night of clarity wandering home (in the rain, presumably) and realising that life isn't quite working out, it's a wonder he didn't hold it over to close out the entire E.P. Indeed, The Pogues were moving on — at least to some extent. So, yeah, Patterson's right. The Pogues are pretty mega. And there's so much more to them than just all that faux-Irish stuff. Yeah, about that...
A flip of the record and suddenly you're in a prefab Irish pub in Edmonton, Seattle or Gili Trawangan that has "Irish nachos" on the menu and female servers with socks up to their knees. The kind of sound (and just the sort of place) that you're certain must be this authentic because how could they fake it? Celtic music isn't my cup of tea but I'd certainly sooner listen to The Chieftains or The Irish Descendants doing what they do best than The Pogues going through the motions with it. The two tracks on the flip are played with customary enthusiasm but to what end? I guess "The Body of an American" and the instrumental "Planxty Noel Hill" would have appealed to their hardcore fanbase — people, it would seem, with little interest in seeing them move on.
Given their connections to Irish music and songs like "The Body of an American" and, indeed, "Fairytale of New York", it's probably understandable that The Pogues would be so identified with Ireland and even Irish-Americans. But they were very much more a London thing — despite band members coming from towns like Pembury, Eastbourne and Dorset but they're close enough, right — and the first side of Poguetry in Motion really captures being down and out dirtbags in the British capital far more beautifully than anything they could do set in Dublin or New York. The purists were probably cross but when aren't they?
In early '86, however, she's young and wet behind ver ears and, she admits in her excellent autobiography I'm Not with the Band, "didn't have a clue" what she was doing. So besotted was she by the sex "appeal" of Mick Hucknall that she personally delivered an issue with him on the cover to him in Edinburgh — only to get the brush off from the most sex-obsessed pop star of his generation. But this devotion, spirit and love for the singers and musicians she wrote for helped make her such a brilliant critic.
But she's yet to come out of her shell in the spring of this year. Her reviews are thoughtfully considered and well written but far from what we would come to expect in the years ahead. She was already up on some of the Hits jargon and liberal use of inverted commas but you can sense she's not quite comfortable. She coos over some faves (The Pogues, obviously, but also The Stones and Tom Waits) but isn't quite ready to spit all over the records she doesn't rate. She'll get there.
The Pogues are so well-remembered for their great 1987 Christmas carol "Fairytale of New York" that few know anything else by them anymore. But while Eurythmics enjoyed a decade of Top 10 action, Shane MacGowan's crew only had a small number of hit singles, so the fact that one of their numbers touched such a nerve is impressive. And, happily, it isn't one that relies too much on being a tedious drinking song from the Emerald Isle. Poguetry in Motion is their first material that takes them away from their (supposed) Irish roots.
Opening with the striking "London Girl", The Pogues make either a deliberate or unintentional claim to the territory of an increasingly irrelevant Dexys Midnight Runners. There's a definite Celtic sound but one that's augmented by nods to pop, punk and soul. Shane MacGowan's strung out, Joe Strummer-esque vocals make him a perfect anti-blue eyed soulman heir to Kevin Rowland. The song is a great way to kick off the E.P. and a document of what a terrific live group they were supposed to be.
But like Rowland before him, MacGowan had a tender side and he never showed it off better than on "A Rainy Night in Soho" which follows "London Girl". Reflective of a drunken night of clarity wandering home (in the rain, presumably) and realising that life isn't quite working out, it's a wonder he didn't hold it over to close out the entire E.P. Indeed, The Pogues were moving on — at least to some extent. So, yeah, Patterson's right. The Pogues are pretty mega. And there's so much more to them than just all that faux-Irish stuff. Yeah, about that...
A flip of the record and suddenly you're in a prefab Irish pub in Edmonton, Seattle or Gili Trawangan that has "Irish nachos" on the menu and female servers with socks up to their knees. The kind of sound (and just the sort of place) that you're certain must be this authentic because how could they fake it? Celtic music isn't my cup of tea but I'd certainly sooner listen to The Chieftains or The Irish Descendants doing what they do best than The Pogues going through the motions with it. The two tracks on the flip are played with customary enthusiasm but to what end? I guess "The Body of an American" and the instrumental "Planxty Noel Hill" would have appealed to their hardcore fanbase — people, it would seem, with little interest in seeing them move on.
Given their connections to Irish music and songs like "The Body of an American" and, indeed, "Fairytale of New York", it's probably understandable that The Pogues would be so identified with Ireland and even Irish-Americans. But they were very much more a London thing — despite band members coming from towns like Pembury, Eastbourne and Dorset but they're close enough, right — and the first side of Poguetry in Motion really captures being down and out dirtbags in the British capital far more beautifully than anything they could do set in Dublin or New York. The purists were probably cross but when aren't they?
~~~~~
Also Reviewed This Fortnight
The Rolling Stones: "Harlem Shuffle"
They had their psychedelic phase on Their Majesty's Satanic Request, they went glam on Goat's Head Soup and did a kind of New York disco-punk thing on Some Girls, so ver Stones should have gone indie on Dirty Work, their Steve Lillywhite-produced 1986 album. Or perhaps not. Mick, Keef and the others are always at their best when they just sound like themselves and rarely during a trying decade did they sound as good as on "Harlem Shuffle". They hadn't released a cover version as a single in over twenty years but the change did them some good, especially since the bulk of the originals on Dirty Work are rubbish. But I hope Our Syl enjoyed the "incredibly brilliant" video because I sure didn't.
They had their psychedelic phase on Their Majesty's Satanic Request, they went glam on Goat's Head Soup and did a kind of New York disco-punk thing on Some Girls, so ver Stones should have gone indie on Dirty Work, their Steve Lillywhite-produced 1986 album. Or perhaps not. Mick, Keef and the others are always at their best when they just sound like themselves and rarely during a trying decade did they sound as good as on "Harlem Shuffle". They hadn't released a cover version as a single in over twenty years but the change did them some good, especially since the bulk of the originals on Dirty Work are rubbish. But I hope Our Syl enjoyed the "incredibly brilliant" video because I sure didn't.
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