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I first encountered Shane MacGowan, whose funeral is taking place today, in the late 1990s, long after his heyday with The Pogues. I would often see him at events and concerts in town, always accompanied by his partner, Victoria Mary Clarke. They would typically sit alone, with no one paying them much attention. Despite exuding a captivating aura, he always seemed worn out and melancholic to me. Even when surrounded by supporters and admirers, there seemed to be a sense of gloom and isolation around him.
One evening, I approached him and introduced myself, and we hit it off immediately. It was effortless. I perceived him to be a kind-hearted person, quite reserved actually, not at all like I had imagined. I had admired him since his days with The Nips, but his songs with The Pogues were on a whole other level. I was constantly in awe of his abilities as a songwriter: his lyrics were sophisticated tales of marginalized individuals oppressed by society; filled with empathy and understanding for everyday laborers and their daily battles – including those struggling with addiction and alcoholism.
His music, inspired by Lou Reed, combined modern street language with a deep poetic sense. It was evident that he was exceptionally talented. My favorite songs are the ones everyone knows – the stunning ballads A Pair of Brown Eyes, A Rainy Night in Soho, The Old Main Drag, and Fairytale of New York. Each one is like a mini film, filled with powerful imagery, emotion, and empathy. They are the kind of songs that can bring tears to your eyes and also inspire you to stand up and fight.
His raucous songs such as Transmetropolitan, The Sick Bed of Cuchulainn, Sally MacLennane, Streams of Whiskey, Boys From the County Hell, are all riotous celebrations of a life well lived, filled with crazed humour and ecstatic joy. Songs that make you want to get drunk and raise hell. Tom Waits once said The Pogues played like “sailors on shore leave” – a perfect observation.
However, he did not appreciate being praised. I recall a party at my house in the summer of 2000, where I declared him the greatest lyricist in modern music; surpassing Nick Cave, Morrissey, and Mark E Smith. Shane responded with a growl, “It’s not a contest!” I took this as a valuable lesson.
Whenever he was present with my band, Primal Scream, he would remain quiet in the corner of the dressing room, causing no disturbance and simply enjoying the backstage atmosphere. I recall him exchanging jokes with my father, both of them laughing heartily after a Primal Scream performance in Glasgow where he joined us on stage to sing “Rocks,” “Loaded,” and a cover of The Heartbreakers’ “Born to Lose.” I will never forget the raw power of his vocals propelling the band as he belted out the verses of the song. When he sang, he exuded a fierce energy and intense emotion, embodying the essence of a true rock and roller and a Celtic soul brother. “We’re Gaels!” He proudly declared to me once. Each time he sang alongside us, whether it be in Glasgow, Dublin, or London throughout the years, we were humbled and grateful. We held a deep admiration for him, and the fact that he appreciated our music meant everything to us.
My last memory of him is when I visited him in hospital in September. He was very poorly, and could see that I was upset to see him this way. Emaciated and weak-looking, his skin stretched taught over his face, cheekbones prominent. Fine, thick silver hair swept back, he looked handsome and strangely beautiful. His skin translucent, his eyes, ever alert and piercing, his keen intelligence still in place.
On that day, I witnessed the strong love between Shane and Victoria. Shane appeared anxious and scared due to a minor incident with a hospital employee. In a comforting gesture, Victoria held his hand and kissed his forehead, assuring him that everything would be okay. It was clear that he needed this reassurance. Initially, I felt a bit awkward witnessing such an intimate moment between two deeply in love individuals. However, I soon realized that I was fortunate to have been there to witness it. They were completely engrossed in each other and I was just a bystander. It was truly heartwarming to see.
Victoria was his source of stability and support. She was like a guardian angel to him. Despite his reputation as a rebellious rocker, Shane had a romantic side and saw the beauty and flaws in people. He embraced their struggles and had a deep emotional connection to them, perhaps too much at times due to his gift as a poet and songwriter. His excessive drinking and drug use may have been a way to cope with the intensity of his emotions. He created songs that resonated with others and helped them navigate their own lives. We are grateful to Shane for his music and the joyful moments he brought us. May his Gaelic soul rest in peace.
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Bobby Gillespie is a Scottish musician, and the lead singer of Primal Scream
Source: theguardian.com
