Fairytale Of New York And The Pogues
Without Prejudice
It's been almost 30 years since The Pogues wrote Fairytale Of New York, their realistic Christmas song about a couple bickering on Christmas Eve.
Shane MACGOWAN, ( not the handsomest of men, then, with his missing teeth, ) is a good lyricist and his gruff Tom Waites voice is a gritty counter foil to the sweetly rich vocals of Kristy MacColl.
Kirsty sadly was killed in Cozumel, Mexico, hit by a power boat while diving with her kids, her partner and a tour guide. She pushed her 15 year old son out of the speeding boat's way, he was injured but Kirsty was struck and killed. She died immediately.
The power boat was in an area where power boats were forbidden. A multi millionaire Mexican businessman was said to be at the wheel. But his employee took the rap and was sentenced to jail, but in Mexico the law said that he could be fined instead. He was fined $63,000.
She was 41.
The Pogues decided to write a song about Christmas that would resonate with the disaffected, the lonely, the population of people that may not be having tinsel and turkey at Christmas.
The first line
It was Christmas Eve, babe
In the drunk tank, ( sung by Shane )
Seems no way a good start to a Christmas song and yet perversely it remains one of the number one Christmas songs of all time. Reaching Number 2 in the U.K. the Christmas it was released and to the Pogues gratification Number One in Ireland in 1987.
The title Fairytale Of New York was borrowed, with his permission, from J.P.Dunleavys book A Fairy Tale Of New York. He also wrote The Ginger Man which was almost like a Bible to one of my exes, a supremely intelligent drunk, 12 years younger than me, who took me to Dublin 3 times and just about every pub in Melbourne.
He chose the booze in the end after 10 years of our being together and had tried everything to give it up. In the end he begged me not to make him give it up and we let each other go after 10 years of being engaged. Both still in love with each other but being honest. I never looked at another man
when I was with Tom. He looked at other women in the end but that was because I would no longer sleep with him.
We remain friends.
He was the most witty, intelligent, sexy man I had ever met. We thought alike, liked the same books, songs, movies. I will miss him and revere him the rest of my life.
But his alcohol habit was just too strong. He couldn't stop, he tried Antabuse, antidepressants, therapy, A.A.but in the end remained a drunk. Bad. He would binge drink for 5 days, be sick, really sick for 5 days, be remorseful, swear on a stack of bibles he would give up the demon drink and be already back on the uphill climb towards the next beer.
His personality changed from a quiet man off the booze to Mr Saturday Night on it.
He introduced me to J.P.Dunleavey, The Ginger Man, Ed McBain, Cinema Europa, Jonathan Creek, B.B.C. Radio, Soccer played and watched and drinking lots and lots of beer and walking home from the Windsor Castle hand in hand blissed out on love and beer, kissing in front yards and singing I've Got You Under My Skin. He loved Sinatra.
He was 30 and I was 42 and left his girlfriend of 7 years for me. She wrote me a nasty letter and called me an old bag. She gave him a black eye and he gave her respect, calling his " Old Darling" the whole ten years we were together.
I introduced him to my kids, ( who he resented ) Op shopping, entertainment T.V. and cooking my way. But the most important thing I left him with was Music. My Dad had been a musician and I love and appreciate music as if it's my air, my muse, my breath. It was born in me. We played Kristoffersen, country music, ballads. He was not a big fan of rock like I was. Once I turned up The Angels and he turned it down, saying,
" Janette, act your age "
I flicked it back up and said,
" Babe, the Angels are My age "
It's been almost 30 years since The Pogues wrote Fairytale Of New York, their realistic Christmas song about a couple bickering on Christmas Eve.
Shane MACGOWAN, ( not the handsomest of men, then, with his missing teeth, ) is a good lyricist and his gruff Tom Waites voice is a gritty counter foil to the sweetly rich vocals of Kristy MacColl.
Kirsty sadly was killed in Cozumel, Mexico, hit by a power boat while diving with her kids, her partner and a tour guide. She pushed her 15 year old son out of the speeding boat's way, he was injured but Kirsty was struck and killed. She died immediately.
The power boat was in an area where power boats were forbidden. A multi millionaire Mexican businessman was said to be at the wheel. But his employee took the rap and was sentenced to jail, but in Mexico the law said that he could be fined instead. He was fined $63,000.
She was 41.
The Pogues decided to write a song about Christmas that would resonate with the disaffected, the lonely, the population of people that may not be having tinsel and turkey at Christmas.
The first line
It was Christmas Eve, babe
In the drunk tank, ( sung by Shane )
Seems no way a good start to a Christmas song and yet perversely it remains one of the number one Christmas songs of all time. Reaching Number 2 in the U.K. the Christmas it was released and to the Pogues gratification Number One in Ireland in 1987.
The title Fairytale Of New York was borrowed, with his permission, from J.P.Dunleavys book A Fairy Tale Of New York. He also wrote The Ginger Man which was almost like a Bible to one of my exes, a supremely intelligent drunk, 12 years younger than me, who took me to Dublin 3 times and just about every pub in Melbourne.
He chose the booze in the end after 10 years of our being together and had tried everything to give it up. In the end he begged me not to make him give it up and we let each other go after 10 years of being engaged. Both still in love with each other but being honest. I never looked at another man
when I was with Tom. He looked at other women in the end but that was because I would no longer sleep with him.
We remain friends.
He was the most witty, intelligent, sexy man I had ever met. We thought alike, liked the same books, songs, movies. I will miss him and revere him the rest of my life.
But his alcohol habit was just too strong. He couldn't stop, he tried Antabuse, antidepressants, therapy, A.A.but in the end remained a drunk. Bad. He would binge drink for 5 days, be sick, really sick for 5 days, be remorseful, swear on a stack of bibles he would give up the demon drink and be already back on the uphill climb towards the next beer.
His personality changed from a quiet man off the booze to Mr Saturday Night on it.
He introduced me to J.P.Dunleavey, The Ginger Man, Ed McBain, Cinema Europa, Jonathan Creek, B.B.C. Radio, Soccer played and watched and drinking lots and lots of beer and walking home from the Windsor Castle hand in hand blissed out on love and beer, kissing in front yards and singing I've Got You Under My Skin. He loved Sinatra.
He was 30 and I was 42 and left his girlfriend of 7 years for me. She wrote me a nasty letter and called me an old bag. She gave him a black eye and he gave her respect, calling his " Old Darling" the whole ten years we were together.
I introduced him to my kids, ( who he resented ) Op shopping, entertainment T.V. and cooking my way. But the most important thing I left him with was Music. My Dad had been a musician and I love and appreciate music as if it's my air, my muse, my breath. It was born in me. We played Kristoffersen, country music, ballads. He was not a big fan of rock like I was. Once I turned up The Angels and he turned it down, saying,
" Janette, act your age "
I flicked it back up and said,
" Babe, the Angels are My age "
