September 10, 1998
Beyond the "Riverdance" soundtrack, Celtic music doesn't sell many records Stateside. U2 exploded off the Emerald Isle with little hint of their Irish roots, and groups like The Cranberries flaunt their heritage as more of a marketable image than a true musical inspiration. The Pogues, however, are defiantly Irish in both temperament and execution.
The key word is "defiantly". Melding punk's fury with traditional instrumentation, Shane MacGowan and his fiery band deeply romanticized the drunken Irish stereotype. The Pogues are to traditional Celtic music what The Rolling Stones are to American R&B: louder, raunchier and doused with sex and liquor. MacGowan practiced the excesses he preached, too - his decent into abuse would later cause the band's breakup, but on If I Should Fall From Grace With God, his sodden tales of losers, immigrants and whores strike a genuine tone, as do his vicious political jabs ("Streets of Sorrow/Birmingham Six").
The songs range from ale-swinging sing-alongs that sound as traditional as "Danny Boy" to wild explorations of distant styles, even finding a striking connection between Celtic and Turkish music ("Turkish Song of the Damned"). Their best moments come when their Celtic prowess smacks up against their angry punk sensibilities - "Bottle Of Smoke" is played with accordion, tin whistle and mandolin, but at howling, exhilarating breakneck speed. MacGowan's mealy-mouthed vocals and primal howls punctuate his sharpest lyrics - he can hardly keep up with the pace of the band, which is part of the song's appeal. By turns vulgar, swinging, pissed-off and melancholy, If I Should Fall From Grace With God is a rowdy triumph.
- Jared O'Connor
Like a leprechaun getting
smacked around by Joey
Ramone