3 Comments
Nov 30, 2023Liked by Simon Sweetman

Thank you for this. Many drunken nights spent with his words and sounds (another lifetime ago now). My partner is telling me stories of seeing him live at Wellington Town Hall, late 80's early 90's. Falling down, gripping a bottle of Irish whiskey, singing up at the microphone like Lemmy....

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Nov 30, 2023Liked by Simon Sweetman

Beautifully written Simon. I remember getting Red Roses when it came out and enjoying the manic ramshackle charm but feeling a little hustled out of the room by it. But the record company had put Pair of Brown Eyes on it and was a holy fuck revelation. I think in some ways he was Dylan level, only without the work rate and ambition so instead of a dozen major albums we only got two or three.

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So well put! Well summed up. That aching beauty in the music melded with ecstatic madness. I saw the pogues at Brixton academy, one Xmas at the turn of century , not many days after Kirsty MacColl had died, and it was an evening of immense beauty and joy, tender and personal, and then out of nowhere the biggest mosh pit I’ve ever witnessed, or been a part of... everyone smiling and laughing all the while through bleeding lips , pulling each other up off the floor like a loving family of a few hundred. Every emotion lived out that night - every person a part of the event, a part of the music.

And then the depth of loss in his voice singing fairytale without Kirsty, aftertrr introducing - “this one’s for Kirsty” , it felt like it was an entire lifetime of memories and reunion in one show. I don’t know how you describe the kind of artistry I witnessed that night but it was as close to alchemy as I’d ever experienced at a show. An absolute genius.

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