DISGRACELAND - Shane MacGowan: Outsiders, Underdogs, and Christmas Eve in the Drunk Tank
Episode Date: December 10, 2024Shane MacGowan lived his life as an outsider. He was an Irishman living in England, a troublemaking jug-eared punk with rotten teeth and a voracious appetite for drugs and alcohol. And with his band, ...The Pogues, he created a powerful synthesis of the traditional music of his homeland and a modern punk attitude. It was this gift for melding the sacred with the profane that led to the creation of one of the finest and most unique Christmas songs ever: "Fairytale of New York." What are your favorite Christmas songs? Let Jake know at 617-906-6638, disgracelandpod@gmail.com, or on socials @disgracelandpod. This episode was originally published on December 10, 2024. To listen to Disgraceland ad free and get access to weekly bonus content and more, become a Disgraceland All Access member at disgracelandpod.com/membership. Sign up for our newsletter and get the inside dirt on events, merch and other awesomeness - GET THE NEWSLETTER Follow Jake and DISGRACELAND: Instagram YouTube X (formerly Twitter) Facebook Fan Group TikTok To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoicesSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Transcript
Discussion (0)
This is exactly right.
Double Elvis.
When a group of women discover they've all dated the same prolific con artist, they take matters into their own hands.
I vowed. I will be his last target.
He is not going to get away with this.
He's going to get what he deserves.
We always say that trust your girlfriends.
Listen to the girlfriends.
Trust me, babe.
On the Iheart radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.
This season on Dear Chelsea with me, Chelsea Handler,
we have some fantastic guests like Amelia Clark.
When like young people come up to me and they want to be an actor or whatever.
My first thing is always, can you think of anything else that you can do?
Rather be disappointed in.
Do that.
David O'Yellowo.
I love this podcast, whether it's therapy or relationships or religion or sex or addiction or you just go straight for the guts.
Dennis Leary, Gaten Matarazzo from Stranger Things,
Tana Monsu, Camilla Morone,
Carrie Kenny Silver, and more.
Listen to these episodes of Dear Chelsea
on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts,
or wherever you get your podcasts.
Movies can make you feel, make you dream.
Sometimes they even make you appreciate architecture.
Is there anybody who's been hotter in a doorway
than Elizabeth Taylor?
That's the kind of analysis you'll find every week on Dear Movies I Love You, the new podcast from the Exactly Right Network.
Every Tuesday, we break down the films we're crushing on, from blockbusters to deep cuts.
Listen to Dear Movies I Love You on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.
Disgrace Land is a production of Double Elvis.
This is the story of an underdog, and it's the story of a drug-dealing juvenile, an acid-eating Irish drunk, and a rivalry with Elvis.
It's the story of Shane McGowan.
But it's also the story
of one of maybe the greatest Christmas songs ever written.
Great music.
Unlike that music, I played for you at the top of the show.
That wasn't great music.
That was a preset loop from my Melotron
called No Teeth All Soul, MK, K, 1.
I played you that loop
because I can't afford the rights to Moni, Moni by Billy Idol.
And why would I play you that specific slice of fist-clenching, fist-pumping, finger-pointing,
cheese could I afford it?
Because that was the number one song in America on November 23, 1987.
And that was the day the Pogues released their single, Fairy Tale of New York.
An unorthodox Christmas song, co-written by a man born on Christmas Day,
and a song that served as a turning point, both good and bad for Shane McGowan.
On this episode, an underdog's tale, acid-eating drunk madness, a rivalry with Elvis and Shane McGowan.
I'm Jake Brennan. It's disgrace land.
I hear sleigh bells ringing, Yule-tide carolers singing. It's that time again. The Christmas season.
Which means it's Christmas song season. Songs that are everywhere. Songs that have been everywhere.
for weeks already.
And listen, I love Christmas songs as much as the next guy,
but for some of you, psychopaths,
you've been decking the halls since the annual thawing of Mariah Carey began
way back before Halloween.
Now, if you think we are obsessed with Christmas music here in the United States,
across the pond, they have an entire singles chart dedicated to it.
It's called The Christmas Number One,
a chart that measures the most popular single
in the UK during the week of Christmas.
In the past, the Christmas number one has gone to Slade's Merry Xmas, everybody.
And do they know it's Christmas by the charity supergroup Band-Aid?
I should mention that the song doesn't have to be Christmas themed, but often they are.
In 1957, the Christmas number one was Mary's Boy Child by Harry Belafonte.
It was crowned so on December 25th of that year.
the very same day the Shane McGowan was born in Kent, England,
just as Queen Elizabeth II was making her first televised Christmas broadcast to her royal subjects.
Not among them were Shane's Irish parents who had emigrated to England not to serve her majesty,
but to seek out opportunities lacking back home.
Back home, for Shane's mother specifically, was an idyllic slice of Irish countryside,
County Tipperary, called the Commons,
where they sang traditional Irish songs about the good life and the good word,
about drinking, and about rebellion.
God and the devil, the sacred and the profane, all mixed into one.
For young Shane McGowan, the Commons was the most sacred thing on this planet.
Going back there on holiday and running around the fields,
the big elm tree, the old barn, it was the greatest thing ever.
Leaving England, returning to the place of his ancestors, connecting with his heritage, to Shane, a kid born on Christmas, going to the Commons was better than Christmas.
Back in England, first in Kent, and later when his family moved to London, young Shane McGowan was a mischievous little boy.
At Westminster School, as in Westminster Abbey, the place where no less than six of England's prime ministers were educated,
Shane was part of a complex web of drug dealers, procuring heroin, cocaine, acid, and mescaline for other school kids.
The goods were sourced from London's West End, specifically from known associates of Charlie Cray,
older brother to Ronnie and Reggie Cray, aka the Cray twins, infamous gangsters, racketeers,
degenerate gamblers, who'd recently been convicted of murder along with their big brother Charlie.
Though Charlie, Ronnie, and Reggie were behind bars, their legacy was being carried on by even the
tiniest cogs in the criminal wheel, like Shane McGowan, who couldn't help but live his law-breaking
life in the shadow of the brother's cray. Shane lived that life as an outsider, as an underdog.
He was self-conscious of his big years and of his fucked up teeth. He was a proud of a proud of
Irishman in England at a time when being so, when voicing your support for the IRA during the
so-called troubles happening back in the homeland, which Shane did do, was extremely dangerous.
He got his face pounded more than once for how he looked for what he said and for what he believed in.
He found solace, first in grass, and then in LSD, and later in the music of other outsiders
and underdogs, like the MC5, The Stooges, and Johnny Thunders.
That raw, authentic rock and roll was Shane's soundtrack to not one, but at least two expulsions
from different schools, and then to an expulsion from reality itself.
A non-stop binge of pills and acids suddenly manifesting disturbing hallucinations,
walking nightmares, faces and figures on the wall of his bedroom, there to feast
on every one of his insecurities.
Shane feasted, too, on more drugs.
He refused to sleep.
At the tender age of 17, he was sent to a psychiatric hospital.
When he got out, he was clean for the moment.
One of the first things he did was go to a concert
so he could bask in the healing properties of the music that he loved.
It was 1975.
And the band performing that night was the 101ers,
fronted by the great Joe Strummer, who would soon go on to form the clash.
Shane was blown away, but not by Joe's band, by the opener,
a band of outsider misfits calling themselves the sex pistols.
The pistol's confrontational sound, how they took the piss and gave zero fucks,
it all spoke so clearly to young Shane McGowan.
Punk rock didn't care about his ears.
Punk rock didn't care about his teeth.
Punk rock didn't care about his nationality or his political beliefs either.
It was the commons back in Ireland.
But being a punk was as close as Shane McGowan could get to that Christmas feeling.
Punk rock inspired Shane to form the band they initially called the New Republicans.
And they soon changed their name to Pogue Mahone, which is Gaelic for Kiss My Arse.
And then finally to simply the Pogs.
The band was rooted in traditional Irish music, but just as the pistols had done to rock and roll,
gave it a swift kick in the ass, led by Shane's poetic gutterspeak,
the Pogues played songs of rebellion and redemption, drinking songs, and ballads alike,
and the sacred and the profanes so close to Shane's heart,
but they did it all with the energy and attitude of punk.
While they were well received by critics and peers when their debut album Red Roses for Me
was released on stiff records in 1984, they remained outsiders and underdogs.
And this was a time, remember, when the musical landscape was dominated by big guitars,
big synthesizers, and even bigger hair.
Into this landscape, the Pogues dared to play banjos, accordions, and tin whistles.
But Shane McGowan could handle being the underdog.
Just like he'd handled getting his ass kicked or rubbing elbows with associates of the Kray brothers
or getting expelled from school, suffering hallucinations, hospitalized only to be reborn by the
sound and fury of Johnny Rotten. Shane knew firsthand that life was not like one of those sentimental
Christmas songs that took over the airways every year during the month of his birth. He knew that
life was more like the best of Christmas songs, the ones that at their core are sad laments,
songs full of heartache and regret, of longing for something that was gone forever, or maybe was
never there in the first place.
These songs elicited the same feeling
Shane got when he was lonesome for the commons back in Ireland.
I'm talking about songs like,
I'll be home for Christmas.
You know, if only in my dreams.
Or Darlene loves Christmas,
and this is the important part of the title,
Baby Please Come Home.
Shane was reminded that life was like the best
of those gloomy Christmas songs
every time he was reminded of a status as the underdog.
And he was reminded of this again in 1984.
Just as the Pogues were taking off,
when a fellow musician previously thought to be the Pogs champion
turned into an unwitting rival.
And through that rivalry, inspired Shane McGowan
to write the biggest song of his life.
There's two golden rules that any man should live by.
Rule one, never mess with a country girl.
You play stupid games, you get stupid prizes.
And rule two, never.
mess with her friends either. We always say that trust your girlfriends. I'm Anna Sinfield,
and in this new season of the girlfriends, oh my God, this is the same man. A group of women
discover they've all dated the same prolific con artist. I felt like I got hit by a truck. I thought,
how could this happen to me? The cops didn't seem to care, so they take matters into their own
hands. I said, oh, hell no. I vowed. I will be his last target. He's going to get what he just
serves.
Listen to the girlfriends.
Trust me, babe.
On the Iheart radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.
This season on Dear Chelsea, with me, Chelsea Handler, we have some fantastic guests,
like Amelia Clark.
When, like, young people come up to me and they want to be an actor or whatever,
my first thing is always, can you think of anything else that you can do?
Rather be disappointed in.
Do that.
Dennis Leary.
I wake up and I'm hitting him in the head with a water bomb.
And Bruce Jenner is on the aisle in a karate stance like he's about to attack me.
Like making karate noises.
And his entire the Kardashians family over there, everybody's going,
and the air marshal is trying to grab my arms and screaming.
I immediately know that I've been asleep walking.
David O'Yellowo.
I love this podcast, whether it's therapy or relationships or religion or sex or addiction
or you just go straight for the guts.
Guy Branham.
So anyway, Nicole Kimman broke up with Keith Thurban.
Being half of a country couple was always a hat she was going to wear,
not like a life she was going to lead.
Oh, interesting.
I like that.
Did you practice that on your way over?
Gaten Matarazzo from Stranger Things.
Tena, Monjou, Camilla Morone,
Carrie Kenny Silver, and more.
Listen to these episodes of Dear Chelsea on the Iheart Radio app,
podcast or wherever you get your podcasts.
I'm Kate Winkler Dawson, a host of the Wicked Words podcast.
Each week I sit down with the true crime writers behind some of the most compelling true
crime stories and discuss their years spent investigating and why it still matters.
He sees his father coming out of the woods with his hands over his face and he knows
something happened. His father just grabs him and says she's gone. She's gone.
These are the cases that leave survivors, families, and the journalists who cover them changed forever.
Working in national television, it'll push you to your limits, and you'll end up doing things you never thought you do.
You know, you look back at it and you're like, I can't believe that really happened.
Join me and step inside the investigation.
New episodes drop every Monday on the Exactly Right Network.
Listen to Wicked Words on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcast,
or wherever you get your podcasts.
October 12th, 1984, Brighton, England.
It was after midnight when English Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher
and her husband Dennis returned to the Napoleon suite
at the Brighton Grand Hotel.
Though she had spent all day at the Conservative Party Congress,
Thatcher had no intention of going to bed.
She planned to work well into the wee hours of the morning,
while Bliriad members of her staff tried their best to keep up.
Thatcher had served as prime minister since 1979.
She was a divisive leader, to put it mildly,
especially critical of her policies were the Irish,
who, for years, have been caught up in their own violent struggle for identity and independence.
Many, like Jerry Adams of Sinn Féin,
the political arm of the Irish Republican Army,
found Thatcher to be an abusive tyrant
who regularly sanctioned discrimination, political censorship, even murder.
Many artists in the UK's thriving new wave and ska scenes were dissenting as well,
with songs like the specials, Ghost Town, and the beats stand down Margaret taking direct aim.
Tonight, however, it wasn't a song aimed at Margaret Thatcher.
Tonight, something far more deadly than a catchy melody was waiting to attack.
It was nearly 3 a.m.,
Thatcher had just emerged from the hotel suite's bathroom,
when suddenly there was an enormous explosion from a bomb.
Thatcher felt her knees go weak as the entire building seemed to sway.
The explosion gave way to a loud, ominous rumble.
It was coming from many floors above her room, but it seemed to be getting closer,
and it was moving fast.
Plaster from the ceiling shook loose and fell to the floor.
Thatcher's team was scrambling now.
Thatcher, too.
Her husband, Dennis, rudely awakened and stumbling around in a daze.
The noise was getting louder, growing closer, but right above.
them now. The wall is shaking, people screaming. And then, one of the hotel's old Victorian rooftop
chimneys came through the ceiling above them at an angle, slicing directly into the bathroom
where only moments before Margaret Thatcher had been standing. 24 days earlier, a member of the
IRA had planted a hundred-pound bomb under a bathtub on the sixth floor of the hotel, a spot
strategically chosen as it was close to an old chimney stack. The timer was set to go off
during Thatcher's stay, and the explosion would compromise the chimney and cause it to fall,
collapsing through all five floors below until it reached the Napoleon suite with maximum momentum
and kill Margaret Thatcher as she slept inside.
The ploy would have worked perfectly, if only the chimney hadn't veered off to an angle
or if Thatcher had still been inside that bathroom.
As it happened, Thatcher survived with hardly a scratch.
Not so lucky, where the more than that.
than 30 people inside the hotel who were injured, and five more who lost their lives,
including a 55-year-old woman who was decapitated.
A manhunt for the IRA bomb maker began immediately.
But first, the cops made a stop in London.
At the offices of stiff records, the Pogues' record label to arrest Shane McGowan.
Because only nine days before the hotel bombing and the attempt on Thatcher's life,
Shane and the Pogues had performed a show in that very same city, Brighton.
A fact that the police were not willing to chalk up to a coincidence.
And I'll tell you why.
Shane McGowan sang rebel songs,
songs that sympathized with Ireland's Republican forces,
or so the thinking went on the part of the British authorities,
those stiff upper lip types who equated the Pog's punk-addled brand
of traditional Irish music with criminal activity.
It had to look no further than the first track on the Pogue's debut album,
a song called Trans-Metropolitan,
a song in which during the very first track,
first verse, Shane sings about getting drunk in the rosy parks of England, and then going to
where the spirits take us to heaven or to hell, and kick up bloody murder in the town we love so well.
And if that wasn't enough, and again, this is some prim and proper random English police officer
talking here, just look at the quote-unquote vile lyrics in this same song, piss, shite,
Puffs, horrors, queer, bastards.
This is the world of Shane McGowan,
a drunken, politically motivated rabble-rouser
with rotting teeth and an attitude to match.
He should be silenced by any means necessary,
or so went to thinking.
Shane, meanwhile, couldn't care less
about what the cops in London wanted to do to him.
He'd dealt with worse.
He'd already been censored by the BBC
for repeatedly saying, fuck, live on air.
And he'd had the piss beaten out of him
so badly by some thugs in the...
basement of a London club that he suffered a concussion and was unable to perform the following evening.
If the cops wanted him, they could come and find him. Because right now, Shane McGowan and the
Pogues were on tour, and Shane had more urgent problems than the cops. One problem, in particular,
was riding on the tour bus with him, a horn room glasses wearing a motherfucker who thought he was
better than Shane. That guy, Elvis Costello, didn't actually think he was better than Shane McGowan,
But Shane thought Elvis thought he was better than Shane McGowan.
Because, everyone around them, including Shane's own band, put Elvis on a pedestal,
reminding Shane once again of his underdog status.
Elvis Costello was the star assigned to a major label, not Shane.
Elvis Costello was the angry young man bridging the gap between the punks and the new wave, not Shane.
The only reason the Pogues were playing bigger venues, playing sessions for the influential BBC
disc jockey John Peel, playing Channel 4, hiring a real manager, and so on,
was because Elvis Costello handpicked them to open his tour with his band,
the attractions, in support of their latest album, Goodbye Cruel World.
But Shane knew that Elvis had an ulterior motive.
Sure, Elvis liked the Pogs, but Elvis liked the Pogs bass player Cato Reardon,
with her spiky hair and Sidvicious sneer even better.
Never mind that Elvis was 30 and caught was just 19.
It just rubbed Shane the wrong way.
Watching the bespectacled star, the Pog's as meal ticket, as it were,
get all handsy with his friend and ban me.
So Shane reacted in his own mischievous way.
He and the guys in the band painted IRA slogans on Elvis's coats and Torbus.
And they drank all Elvis's booze.
And they even poured sand into the keyboards belonging to the attraction Steve Naive.
Still, Elvis refused.
to kick them off the tour. That's how bad he had it for Cod. He had it so bad that he signed on
to produce the Pog's next record, their excellent sophomore album with the equally excellent title,
Rum, Sodomy, and The Lash. But despite that great record and the increased exposure brought to the band,
Shane couldn't shake the feeling that he was being looked down upon by Big Shot Elvis Costello.
The tension between the two artists continued to build, until Shane lost it while Recreced
while recording the song
A Rainy Night in Soho
for the Poetry and Motion EP,
which Elvis also produced.
Elvis wanted to use an oboe in the instrumental break,
perhaps inspired by the Beatles as Penny Lane.
But Shane insisted it should be a cornet.
And Shane wouldn't back down.
He was the artist.
This was his song.
The only job Elvis had, in Shane's mind,
was to put that artistry and that song on tape.
And if he couldn't handle that,
then Big Shot Elvis Costello could just fuck right the hell off.
So, that's what Elvis did.
And he took Shane McGowan's spiky-haired, Sid Vicious,
sneering bass player with him.
But not before he got inside Shane's head
by questioning his ability to pen a song so timeless
that it would live on long after both of them were gone.
Sure, Shane fancied himself an artist,
and he was certainly that.
He worked his side of the street quite well.
But it was a small, dimly-lit street
in a dirty old town where not everyone was willing to walk.
What about the world stage?
What about writing the most universal kind of song?
A Christmas song.
Even better, a Christmas duet.
Elvis Costello bet Shane McGowan that he couldn't do it.
What Elvis wasn't betting on was how all Shane had to do
was think about the commons back in Ireland,
his own private Christmas,
which lived rent-free in his heart.
And suddenly he was filled with an intense longing,
the kind of longing found in the very best of Christmas songs.
Shane McGowan then took all of that longing
and put it into the greatest Christmas song ever written.
We'll be right back after this world, word, word.
There's two golden rules that any man should live by.
Rule one, never mess with a country girl.
You play stupid games, you get stupid prizes.
And Rule 2, never mess with her friends either.
We always say that trust your girlfriends.
I'm Anna Sinfield, and in this new season of the girlfriends...
Oh my God, this is the same man.
A group of women discover they've all dated the same prolific con artist.
I felt like I got hit by a truck.
I thought, how could this happen to me?
The cops didn't seem to care.
So they take matters into their own hands.
I said, oh, hell no.
I vowed I will be his last target.
He's going to get what he deserves.
Listen to the girlfriends.
Trust me, babe.
On the IHart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcast.
This season on Dear Chelsea, with me, Chelsea Handler, we have some fantastic guests like Amelia Clark.
When, like, young people come up to me and they want to be an actor or whatever,
my first thing is always, can you think of anything else that you can do?
Rather be disappointed in.
Do that.
Dennis Leary.
I wake up and I'm hitting him in the head with a water bomb.
And Bruce Jenner is on the aisle in a karate stance.
Like he's about to attack me.
Like making karate noises.
And his entire the Kardashians family over there, everybody's going.
And the air marshal is trying to grab my arms and screaming.
I immediately know that I've been asleep walking.
David O'Yellowo.
I love this podcast, whether it's therapy or relationships or religious.
or sex or addiction or you just go straight for the guts.
Guy Branham.
So anyway, Nicole Kidman broke up with Keith Thurban.
Being half of a country couple was always a hat she was going to wear,
not like a life she was going to lead.
Oh, interesting.
I like that.
Did you practice that on your way over?
Gaten Matarazzo from Stranger Things.
Tena, Monjou, Camilla Morone, Carrie Kenny Silver, and more.
Listen to these episodes of Dear Child
on the Iheart radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.
I'm Kate Winkler Dawson, a host of the Wicked Words podcast.
Each week I sit down with the true crime writers behind some of the most compelling true crime stories
and discuss their years spent investigating and why it still matters.
He sees his father coming out of the woods with his hands over his face,
and he knows something happened.
His father just grabs him and says, she's gone, she's gone.
These are the cases that leave survivors, families, and the journalists who cover them changed forever.
Working in national television, it'll push you to your limits, and you'll end up doing things you never thought you do.
You know, you look back at it and you're like, I can't believe that really happened.
Join me and step inside the investigation.
New episodes drop every Monday on the Exactly Right Network.
Listen to Wicked Words on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts,
or wherever you get your podcasts.
I should clarify here that Elvis Costello
does not remember making a bet with Shane McGowan
about whether or not he could write a proper Christmas song.
Shane, on the other hand,
swore as if it were yesterday, that it happened,
and he did so for the rest of his life.
It really doesn't matter either way.
Whether the challenge was indeed thrown down
or whether Shane simply made it up
as a way to amplify his talent over Elvis's for the history books,
in the end, the writing and recording of the Pogues' song,
fairy tale of New York, serves to underscore Shane's long-held status as an underdog.
In 1987, Christmas music was having a moment. The compilation album, a very special Christmas,
produced by a music industry mogul, Jimmy Iovine, was released in October of that year to great
acclaim. It featured modern covers of classic Christmas songs and Christmas carols by some of the
biggest names of music at the time. Whitney Houston singing, Do You Hear What I Hear, and John Cougarmel.
camp singing, I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus and whatnot.
And this is also the album where we were blessed with Run DMC's incredible Christmas and Hollis.
But without one exception, and maybe also U2's version of Darlene Loves' Christmas Baby Please Come Home,
the entire compilation is pretty much what you'd expect in terms of sentimentality and substance.
And by the time Christmas had come and gone that year, a very special Christmas was certified
quadruple platinum.
Now imagine this.
Just a month after that compilation was released around Thanksgiving of 1987, the Pogs dropped a new single from their forthcoming album, their third.
Fairy Tale of New York was their Christmas song.
And in every way, it was the exact antithesis of the songs on Jimmy Iovine's compilation.
The song begins as a piano ballad, with Shane McGowan's battered voice slurring one of the greatest opening lines of all time.
it was Christmas Eve, babe, in the drunk tank.
From the jump, this is a Christmas song with a wholly unique perspective,
that of a drunk, a gambler, a guy who's down on his luck more often than not,
trying to convince the love of his life that the days will get better,
despite the fact that they are behind bars together on Christmas Eve.
And when the band comes galloping in with their hypercharged Irish folk music,
so does the drunk's lover, sung by the Englishwoman Kirstie McCall,
Shane's duet partner.
She's tired of hanging on to her man's broken promises
and isn't afraid to tell him so.
First, he's handsome, and she's pretty.
And then all of a sudden, he's a bum and a punk,
and she's an old slut on junk.
The song co-written by Shane and the Pog's banjo player,
Gem Finer, is funny and it's sad.
Ultimately, it's cautiously optimistic
without losing its sense of melancholy,
just like the best Christmas songs.
It's also one of the most controversial, evidenced by one particular lyric,
a slur that rhymes with maggot, uttered by Kirstie McCall's character.
A word so offensive that the BBC eventually started bleeping it out every time it was played on air.
Shane's defense of the use of the word was, quote,
Not all characters and songs and stories are angels,
or even decent and respectable, unquote.
These are real fleshed out characters here.
characters you'd be more likely to find in a novel than in a Christmas song.
And I think it's what makes fairy tale of New York so great.
Listening to it really does feel like the dialogue between Shane and Christy
was ripped directly from a drunk tank in a New York City police station.
In the face of much more popular artists offering up safe, sanitized covers of classic Christmas cheese,
Shane, Gem, Christy, and the Pogues delivered a master class
in how to create something new and exciting and provocative.
The song was a top ten hit in the UK upon its original release.
In Ireland, it went to number one and stayed there for five weeks.
And when it came to the 1987 Christmas number one chart,
the odds were on Fairy Tale of New York to win that by a landslide.
This would be no minor achievement for Shane McGowan.
In fact, it was quite the opposite.
The song was featured on the Pogs' third album,
If I Should Fall from Grace with God,
produced, not by Elvis, who had successfully stolen.
and Cato Reardon permanently from the band,
but by Steve Lillywhite,
known for his work with Peter Gabriel and U2.
It was the Pogs' biggest record to date.
But that record,
the creative act of making it
and of making fairy tale of New York
under the pressure of proving his worth
to a rival singer-songwriter,
whether it was imagined or not,
had an immediate and adverse effect
on Shane McGowan.
It was the middle of the evening
when Victoria Mary Clark's phone began to ring.
The Irish journalist wasn't
expecting the voice on the other end. It was her boyfriend's landlady, calling about her boyfriend,
Shane McGowan. Something was wrong with him. Something so wrong that his landlady felt compelled to
ring up his girlfriend in the dead of night. Shane's love of and sometimes overlove of alcohol
is well documented. He was rarely seen on stage or off without a pint, a bottle, or a glass of wine
in his hand. But it wasn't the drink that his landlady was concerned about. No, lately.
he'd been taking loads of LSD.
One day she found him in his room,
tripping his balls off,
clutching a samurai sword,
and staring at a chair that he just slashed to pieces.
Another time, he chased her to the stairway
and threw his favorite guitar at her.
Victoria quickly put on some clothes
and made a B-line for Shane's flat,
and when she arrived, she found him in his kitchen,
his eyes bouncing around in his head.
He told her he dropped 15, maybe 20 tabs of acid.
he'd lost count.
He was holding a copy of the Beach Boys' greatest hits, volume three.
But he wasn't listening to it.
He was trying to eat it.
Blood was running down his face, just oozing from his mouth.
And there was blood and bite marks all over the LP jacket.
Shane was rambling.
World War III was imminent.
He knew it, which is why he was holding an emergency meeting in his kitchen
with the heads of the world's superpowers.
And he, Shane McGowan, as leader of the Irish Republic,
was demonstrating the cultural inferiority of America by eating a Beach Boys record.
From there, things got even worse, if you can imagine.
Shane kept taking loads of LSD and ecstasy.
He started using heroin, too.
He was hit by a car more than once.
He jumped from a moving taxi.
He started fires.
He was committed to a psychiatric hospital.
He was released, relapsed, randomly attacked a guy that was sent back to the psych ward.
Again, he was released, again, he relapsed, again he was knocking back 10, 20 acid tabs at a time.
He missed shows, including dates opening for Bob Dylan.
And when he did make it to the stage, he forgot the lyrics.
He was drunk and high 24-7.
Finally, in 1991, during a tour of Japan, the band convened a meeting in a hotel room.
It was there that the Pogues informed Shane McGowan that they were firing him from the Pogues.
to which Shane replied,
What took you so long?
This was a four-year period of free fall
that can be traced all the way back to the start,
December of 1987, the week of Christmas,
and to the crowning of that year's Christmas number one song in the UK.
Because that year's Christmas number one
was not the Pogs' fairy tale of New York
as had been predicted.
Instead, it was the Pet Shop Boys
who were the ones to read.
number one with always on my mind. The Pogues only made it to number two. Just like not
all characters and songs and stories are angels are even decent and respectable, not all
artists and songwriters get the chart-topping recognition they deserve. Some of them are
destined to be underdogs for life.
Hey guys, real quick, there was this crazy story that we unearthed in the
research for the shame of gown episode that involves the Poges, Tom Waits, and Elvis Costello
drunkenly recreating the killing of gangster John Dillinger in a Chicago alleyway back of the 1980s.
That sounds like fun. I mean, this is so on brand for us because it's got the legendary
true crime figure, John Dillinger. It's got icons of music history, the Pogs, Tom Waits, Elvis
Costella. And it also features one of the wildest, impromptu pickup band performances that nobody
you ever saw. But here's the thing. We just didn't have enough time or space in our full
episode to talk about this fully. But we do have time of this week's brand new mini episode of
Disgraceland, which is part of the exclusive content for All Access members. If you're not a
member of all access and you want to hear why in the hell Tom Waits, Elvis Costell and the Poges
made a pub crawl that ended with a visit to a notorious alley. Just go to disgracelandpod.com to
sign up and listen to that today. All right. Now let's get back to our story here all about
Shane McGowan. Autumn, 2001. Gem Finer.
The Poges' banjo player and co-songwriter knocked hard on the wooden door of a small and assuming cottage.
To his back, the commons slayed out in all of its natural, breathtaking wonder.
County Tipperary was far from Dublin.
Compared to a place like London, it was a whole other world.
Here, life was slow and quiet.
At least on the outside, on the inside, behind the front door of that cottage,
Jim could hear singing, yelling, and bottles emptying and glasses clinking.
He knocked again.
Still, nothing.
He pulled a cell phone from his jacket and dialed a number.
It rang.
And then someone picked up.
It was Shane.
Many, many sheets to the wind.
For folks' sake, Jim yelled into the phone.
Come open the fucking door.
Seconds later, the wooden door swung open.
And there was Shane McGowan.
The guy whom Jim and the others had fired.
from the Pogue some ten years prior.
The same guy, who had started a new band, Shane McGowan and the Popes,
but it continued to be plagued by junk, cocaine, amphetamines, and by a bottomless bottle.
He looked haggard, perhaps worse than ever.
He'd watched not one, but two friends overdosed in his flat back in the city.
He'd been arrested after fellow Irish singer Shnade O'Connor squealed on his drug use to the cops.
and he was pissed at Sheenade when she did that.
Although he later came around and he actually thanked her.
Schneid squealing and led Shane to kick heroin.
He kept his other vices, but he'd lost Victoria, his longtime girlfriend,
at least for the time being.
Sometimes it seemed like all Shane had was this place, the Commons.
Gem, on the other hand, had something else to offer.
He was there to ask Shane if he wanted to reunite with the Pogues
for a handful of Christmas shows that year.
Shane was all in.
They booked dates for one week only, that December,
Glasgow, Birmingham, Dublin, Manchester,
and three nights at the Brixton Academy in London.
Demand was high, as were spirits,
and for any fan of the Pogues,
it was the best Christmas present they could ask for.
More Christmases came and went,
one in which Shane received 28 implants
on a titanium frame to fix his bad teeth,
an occasion so momentous that a day.
documentary was made about it. And there was also the Christmas in which Shane reconciled with
Victoria, not to mention the one where the two finally tied the knot after an 11-year engagement.
Christmas of 2022 was nearly spent in the hospital, where Shane was laid up with viral
encephalitis and inflammation of the brain. Doctors cleared him right before the holiday,
but six months later he was back, hospitalized this time with pneumonia. He was there from June
to November, but just one day after his release, he went into septic shock.
And six days later, on November 30, 20, 2003, Shane McGowan was dead.
He was 65 years old.
Immediately after Shane's death, Fairy Tale of New York went straight to number one in Ireland.
The band then reissued the single on 7-inch vinyl in hopes that a combination of sales and
mourning for Shane would finally cement the song as that year's Christmas number one.
Once again, however, the Pogs were denied.
The Christmas No. 1 in the UK on December 25, 2023, was not fairy tale of New York, as many would have expected.
Instead, that honor went to Wham's Last Christmas, which earned its first Christmas number 1,
39 years after its original release.
Some thought that it was Shane McGowan's final wish to get a Christmas number 1.
In reality, he only cared if the song went to be.
went to number one in Ireland.
County Tipperary, the Commons, the people, the culture,
that's where his heart remained, even in death.
Besides, everyone knew what his final wish was.
It was right there in his will.
Shane McGowan left behind $10,000 for an open bar tab
at his favorite pub in Tipperary,
where locals who packed the place after a funeral procession
in the streets of Dublin saw crowds erupt into a spontaneous rendition
of fairy tale of New York.
It's a song that remains a standard of the holiday season, even if it never hit the top of the holiday chart.
As its producer, Steve Lillywhite said, I love the fact that it's never been number one.
It's for the underdog.
In fact, it's for everyone.
For those who find salvation, for those who fall from grace.
I'm Jake Brennan, and this is This Graceland.
All right, guys, Merry Christmas, and thanks for listening to this.
this episode of Disgraceland. This week's question of the week is an obvious one. What's your
number one Christmas song? Let me know which Christmas song is your favorite and why. 617-906-66-6638.
Leave me a voicemail. Send me a text or hit me up on the socials at disgracelampod.com. All right,
here comes some credits. Disgraceland was created by yours truly and is produced in partnership with
double Elvis. Credits for this episode can be found on the show notes page at disgracelampod.com.
If you're listening as a Disgraceland All-Axist member,
thank you for supporting the show.
We really appreciate it.
And if not, you can become a member right now
by going to disgracelandpod.com slash membership.
Members can listen to every episode of Disgraceland ad free.
Rate and review the show and follow us on Instagram,
TikTok, Twitter, and Facebook at DisgracelandPod,
and on YouTube at YouTube.com slash at DisgracelandPod.
Rock a roll.
When a group of women discover they've all dated the same prolific con artist,
they take matters into their own hands.
I vowed, I will be his last target.
He is not going to get away with this.
He's going to get what he deserves.
We always say that, trust your girlfriends.
Listen to the girlfriends.
Trust me, babe, on the Iheart radio app, Apple Podcasts,
or wherever you get your podcasts.
This season on Dear Chelsea,
with me, Chelsea Handler, we have some fantastic guests like Amelia Clark.
When like young people come up to me and they want to be an actor or whatever,
and my first thing is always, can you think of anything else that you can do?
Rather be disappointed in.
Do that.
David O'Yello.
I love this podcast, whether it's therapy or relationships or religion or sex or addiction
or you just go straight for the guts.
Dennis Leary, Gaten Matarazzo from Strange.
your things.
Tana M'Ju.
Camilla Marone,
Carrie Kenny Silver,
and more.
Listen to these episodes
of Dear Chelsea
on the IHeart Radio app,
Apple Podcasts,
or wherever you get your
podcasts.
Movies can make you feel,
make you dream.
Sometimes they even
make you appreciate
architecture.
Is there anybody
who's been
hotter in a doorway
than Elizabeth Taylor?
That's the kind of
analysis you'll find
every week on
Dear Movies I Love You.
the new podcast from the Exactly Right Network.
Every Tuesday, we break down the films we're crushing on, from blockbusters to deep cuts.
Listen to Dear Movies I Love You on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.
