It’s kind of amazing he held on this long, his life considered. My Instagram account has filled up with personal anecdotes – from my pal filmmaker Paul Duane, my friend Regina Bartkoff who saw him outside of CBGBs one night, from my friend Maria McKee (please seek out her feed if you are hurting about this death, as many I know are: I’ve found her memories and thoughts very comforting), from basically all the Irish people I know, all of whom seem to have met him at one point or another, and of course his fans worldwide. The Pogues were huge for me, and his voice – as it is wont to do – wormed its way into my soul, and never left. Once you hear it, you’re not the same again.
This week has featured one death to celebrate, one to mourn. Don’t speak ill of the dead? Fuck that. Take your middle-class niceties elsewhere. Take them to Cambodia or Chile, how ’bout. I live in the real world, bitch, where actions have consequences and I’m not afraid to call evil by its proper name.
Shane MacGowan, on the other hand, was a poet. And I will miss him very much.
“I could have been someone/well so could anyone” is Brando’s “I coulda been a contender” distilled, but even more brutal, because like all great poets he had the ability to strip the fat completely off the bone. It’s a breathtaking exchange and brought me up short the first time I heard it. The poet laureate of the down and out.
I come old friend from hell tonight
Across the rotting sea
Nor the nails of the cross, nor the blood of Christ
Can bring you help this eve
The dead have come to claim a debt from thee
They stand outside your door
Four score and three
Did you keep a watch for the dead man’s wind?
Did you see the woman with the comb in her hand?
Wailing away on the wall on the strand
As you danced to the Turkish song of the damned
Desirae – his death has really echoed in me since it happened – it’s such a loss. I keep hearing his voice – it just drills right through you. I was looking at all the pictures of the funeral on the Irish Literary Times – all the people. Johnny Depp as pall bearer. Nick Cave. A fitting send off.
Sheila!
I hadn’t mentioned I was outside CBGB’s because I was working there and I was getting some air.
But what I wanted to say was what stuck me at the time was Shane MacGowan’s total lack of pretension. He was a huge star and you wouldn’t know it.
I don’t even remember the bands that were playing that night, but if I was outside it was probably nobody like Johnny Thunders or Lou Reed though. Shane was there to see some LES bands. He had shaved his head and he wasn’t drunk.
And nobody there was making a fuss over him either.
I got tongue tied after I gave him my art card and couldn’t say how much his music meant to me and how much I loved it!
Regina – I love these details. He was there to see music. Hang out. He meant so much to people.