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- MUSIC, Page 56Eight Lads Putting on Airs
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- The Pogues shake up Irish folk tunes to make blistering rock
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- By Jay Cocks
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- The birth of a band: at a London flat some eight years ago,
- Shane MacGowan, who had more of his teeth back then, picked up
- a guitar and started to play an old Irish tune, Paddy Worked at
- the Railways. He played it fast; he played it very fast, in the
- best postpunk, frontal-assault style. His pal Spider Stacy
- clocked MacGowan's hands at "940 light-years an hour." That
- time, of course, was unofficial. But looking back now, it has
- become the official beginning of the Pogues.
-
- This aggregation landed its first gig two weeks later.
- "Hey," MacGowan said to a local club owner, "we're in a band
- that plays Irish Republican songs. Can we do a set here?" The
- club owner agreed, and MacGowan, Stacy and three friends were
- soon doing a 20-minute set of "mutilated Irish rebel songs" that
- was frequently interrupted, according to Stacy, "by
- chit-throwing British soldiers, who displayed far greater
- musical taste than the rest of the audience."
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- A prototypical punk moment. It was loud, adventurous,
- untutored and self-destructive. Something may have been kindled
- that night, but it took 18 months to work it into a flame. Now
- the Pogues burn reckless and bright, working weird wonders on
- old Irish airs, giving errant folk melodies a strong bracing of
- rock. The new Pogues album has the kind of title that makes a
- sucker out of anyone who doesn't know the band; Peace and Love
- is full of spunk and sass, unreconstructed punk attitude hiding
- a hard social conscience. Chits will no longer be tossed.
-
- The Pogues muscled mainstream folk music out of its rut.
- Their raucous, carefully heedless style opened the way for the
- Hothouse Flowers, the Proclaimers and the Waterboys, three of
- the best bands working the newly fertile field of electric folk.
- The Pogues redirected and redefined a tradition that even such
- disparate talents as Tracy Chapman, the Indigo Girls and Suzanne
- Vega are working to excellent effect. Mind you, listening to
- MacGowan blister his way through Young Ned of the Hill or White
- City will not bring a fond smile to folkies who prefer their
- music mild, like a cup of chamomile, or foursquare, like a
- sermon on a six-string. MacGowan sing-snarls like a saloon
- rowdy. His mouth, missing several prominent teeth, has attracted
- almost as much press attention as his voice, perhaps because
- they make such a perfect match. There is nothing pretty about
- a MacGowan vocal; the beauty comes later, after he has given the
- ear a good boxing, and the lyrics settle -- very gently, really
- -- on the heart.
-
- MacGowan onstage is restless, perhaps combustible. If the
- other seven band members do a tune in which his involvement is
- minimal, he will take a hike into the wings. "It's
- embarrassing," he says. "I'm sitting on my bloody hands." Even
- when he's not in the thick of things, he is the Pogues'
- charismatic center. It was MacGowan and his writing that got
- Terry Woods out of retirement. At 42, Woods is older by a decade
- than the rest of the band, and he played with such mid-'70s
- English electric-folk groups as Steeleye Span, on whose
- influence the Pogues have drawn extensively. "I've been through
- the folk revival; I've been through the decline of the revival,"
- he says. "But I liked MacGowan's writing. A lot of Irish music
- had been parlorized by the English. The Pogues took it back to
- the streets. They were attacking it."
-
- The Pogues are not a postmodern incarnation of the Clancy
- Brothers, however. Only half of them are Irish (MacGowan, 31,
- was born in Ireland but moved to London when he was six), and
- it quickly became apparent back in the formative days that
- working up a repertoire of Irish music exclusively, even punked
- and pulverized, was a dead end. "It was patronizing," says
- Stacy simply. So instead of the raw Irish musical tradition
- itself, the band took the spirit of the tradition, which Stacy
- compares convincingly with rhythm and blues and reggae.
-
- Rooted in Ireland (where only Woods and guitarist Philip
- Chevron live) but centered in London, where they are an
- enduring force in a music scene that changes with tidal
- regularity, the band members still live close by one another,
- most of them in the same working-class neighborhoods where they
- grew up. "We are not the sort of people," says MacGowan, "who
- like to be snotty bastards, out in space." They just finished
- playing a few dates in the States, to get Peace and Love off to
- a strong start, and will return next month for a lengthier
- series of concerts, both opening for Bob Dylan and performing
- on their own.
-
- The Pogues are doing well enough, and remain enterprising
- enough, to explore some unlikely avenues of musical
- inspiration. "There are eight really strong personalities in the
- band," MacGowan comments. "Everybody writes." Jem Finer, who
- plays banjo, sax and hurdy-gurdy and who pulled the Pogues
- together in the early days, has written, with the aid of a "very
- old Italian phrase book," an aria. "We've rehearsed it," he
- reveals, "but it wasn't recorded for the album. Various factions
- thought it was pushing things a bit far. But opera is one of our
- secret desires." Unlike British soldiers on a pub crawl, opera
- fans have been known to throw objects somewhat heftier than
- chits. But after nearly a decade, the Pogues still dote on
- stirring things up. The best rock comes right from the firing
- line, and the very best from bands, like the Pogues, that keep
- on shooting back.
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