01	Transmetropolitan						04:15
	02	The Battle Of Brisbane						01:49
	03	The Auld Triangle						04:20
	04	Waxie's Dargle						01:53
	05	Boys From The County Hell						02:56
	06	Sea Shanty						02:24
	07	Dark Streets Of London						03:33
	08	Streams Of Whisky						02:32
	09	Poor Paddy						03:09
	10	Dingle Regatta						02:52
	11	Greenland Whale Fisheries						02:36
	12	Down In The Ground Where The Dead Men Go						03:30
	13	Kitty						04:23

RED ROSES FOR ME

Stiff SEEZ55 (October 1984)
WEA Records 244 494-2
Enigma 4XT-73225

Formats: LP, Cassette, CD, LP in Green & Mauve vinyl, Enigma "Picture" CD (silkscreen of a rose)

The Enigma Cassette & CD (4XT-73225 & D2-73225 respectively) also contain: Whiskey You're The Devil, Muirshin Durkin, and Repeal of the Licensing Laws ((876k) ).

The Australian version of this disc also contains A Pair Of Brown Eyes (Anyone know the lable?).


AMG EXPERT REVIEW: What set the Pogues apart from any number of other energetic Irish traditional bands was the sheer physical force of their performances, the punky swagger of their personalities, and Shane MacGowan's considerable gifts as a songwriter. Unfortunately, none of these qualities come through very clearly on their first album, Red Roses for Me. While the Pogues are in good form here, the production (by Stan Brennan) is thin and lacks the body or nuance to capture the finer details of the performances, robbing this recording of the fire the group would display on their later albums. And it's clear that Shane MacGowan had not yet fully matured as a songwriter; there are a handful of superb songs here, such as "Transmetropolitan," "Streams of Whiskey", and "Down in the Ground Where the Dead Men Go," but some of the others suggest MacGowan was still learning how to fit all his ideas into his songs. Red Roses for Me is good and rowdy fun, but on Run, Sodomy & the Lash and If I Should Fall From Grace With God, the Pogues would prove they were capable of a lot more than that. - Mark Deming


Stan Brennan - Producer
James Fearnley - Group Member
Jem Finer - Group Member
Shane MacGowan - Group Member
Cait O'Riordan - Group Member
Andrew Ranken - Group Member
Nick Robbins - Engineer
Spider Stacy - Group Member
Craig Thomson - Engineer

1998 CD WEA International 44494
CD Enigma D2-73225
LP Enigma ST-73225
CS Enigma 4XT-73225
CD Enigma 3212




Pogues, If I Should Fall From Grace With God (Island Records, 1988)
Pogues, Pogue Mahone (Elektra, 1995)
Pogues, Rum Sodomy & the Lash (WEA, 1984)
Pogues, Red Roses for Me (WEA, 1985)
Pogues, Waiting for Herb (WEA, 1993)



"I've had a very, very happy life. If they stuck me in a box tomorrow I'd know I've had a bloody whale of a time. How many other people have made loads of money and done every drug under the sun, and gone out every night, and been all over the world before they're 30. A few maybe. I'm one of the lucky few." -- Shane MacGowan
Once upon a time there was a band called The Pogues whose original name was (before a BBC suit realized what it meant and said that they needed to change their name if the Beeb was to air their material) Pogue Mahone, Irish Gaelic for "kiss my arse." Pogue mahone was indeed a good description of this band: their wild and drunken mix of trad material with the energetic kiss-off attitude of punk created a musical style that London -- and the greater world of rock 'n' roll -- had never seen. Indeed many wished they still hadn't seen (or heard) it! Cross The Chieftains with the Sex Pistols, or the Horslips with more of a punk feel: the Pogues were unique at the time they made their debut.

It's of a gentleman soldier as a sentry he did stand
He saluted a fair maiden by a waving of his hand
And then he boldly kissed her and he passed it off as a joke
He drilled her up in a sentry box wrapped up in a soldier's cloak
And the drums are going a rap a tap tap

"The Gentleman Soldier" (trad)
The Pogues broke up not long after frontman Shane MacGowan left the group, but that was no matter, as the best work the Pogues did was in their first decade: that glorious period in which everything they did was bloody fucking brillant. Just listen to "The Band Played Waltzing Matilda," "Fairytale of New York," "Sally MacLennane,"or "Wild Cats of Kilkenny" to see just how brillant they were. Shane MacGowan and company drunk with a splitting headache were far better than damn near all of the 'Danny Boy' style Irish bands. Hell, just check out their version of the Steeleye Span-popularized "The Gentlemen Soldier" to see how they brought a fresh feel to old ballads.

"Monday in autumn. London, King's Cross. Four scruffily-besuited characters are gathered together in the front room of a tiny tenement flat. Musicians of sorts, they are setting out for their first collective appearance.
Just as they are about to leave the building, a fifth and final figure appears. Although his face is familiar, half the party haven't seen the stranger for some 18 months, and eyebrows are raised at his inappropriate apparel. Clad in black jeans, thug boots and a ripped leather jacket, he resembles a desperate hangover from 1977. He's welcomed all the same, and the five make their way down the street, round the corner and into a small saloon on the Gray's Inn Road.

Inside, the entourage hastily assemble a drum kit, unveil an accordion and dive for the bar. Three hours later, the establishment, now filled with 60 or so people, exudes the vague scent of inspired inebria. The band eventually stumble on stage, pick up their gear, pull up two mikes and it's "One, two, three, four..."

Pogue Mahone developed at a time when Irish music was neither profitable nor fashionable.

Ann Scanlon, The Pogues: The Lost Decade



For a detailed look at the band, read The Pogues: The Lost Decade . Ann Scanlon has captured the Pogues from their very first days in early '82 'til a decade later when they released their only commercially successful album If I Should Fall From Grace With God, an album that really did sound like it was produced instead of being simply tossed together. Ann's clearly at ease with the band. And it's clear she had the full cooperation of the band, their friends, and assorted never do well hanger-ons. This is a fuckin' brillant work of ethnography that catches the evolution of a band as no other book I've read has done. Yes, read her book if you're a fan of the Pogues, but those who should really read it are those interested in how the neverending folk process stays alive. For like it or not, the Pogues did a fuckin' brilliant job of kicking folk in its ever-so-fat arse and making the lazy old sod get back on its feet! We should all down a pint or three of Guinness to the lads, for we all owe them for their addition to the Irish music genre. And it's clear to this writer that Shane MacGowan needed the Pogues as much as they needed him, as his post-Pogues work never has been as brilliant as his work with the Pogues. And yes, The Pogues did cover "The Gentleman Soldier" -- see their album Rum, Sodomy & the Lash.

First up is is Red Roses for Me, an album that established the style for which the Pogues were infamous. It's a brilliant mixing of Celtic trad with punk and -- as is true with other groups such as The Men They Couldn't Hang -- a tinge of the American Old West. It was certainly one of the oddest albums ever released into an unsuspecting folk universe. It's thrash folk at its very best, with mangled lyrics by Shane McGowan and Spider Stacy merging with music best described as Irish-Middle Eastern punk tinged with rock-and-reel. The Pogues' lineup of MacGowan (vocals/guitar), Jimmy Fearnley (accordion), Jem Finer (banjo), Cait O'Riordan (bass/vocals), Spider Stacy (whistle) and Andy Ranken (drums) was The Pogues' line-up for this debut album. The lyrics are the usual depressing lyrics the Pogues were known for: see "Down in the Ground Where the Dead Men Go" for a particularly downbeat look at why life sucks.

Next up is Rum, Sodomy & the Lash. Best cuts are "The Band Played Waltzing Matilda," "I'm a Man You Don't Meet Every Day," and "Wild Cats of Kilkenny." Produced by Elvis Costello, who would later marry Pogues vocalist Cait O'Riordan, this was a sign that the Nipple Erectors, the previous band fronted by Shane, had imbued the Pogues with their "up yours mate!" spirit. Take "The Old Main Drag" which deals with male homosexuality, police brutality, and drugs intended to chase away the blues. Or "I'm A Man That You Don't Meet Every Day" which has Cait singing of the richest man in County Kildare -- a man without a friend after he shoots his only friend, his dog. They finish the album out with "The Band Played Waltzing Matilda," the best version of the Eric Bogle penned anti-war song you'll ever hear. And wait 'til you hear their interpretation of the trad song "Jesse James" as it's both lively and clearly sung!

If you must buy just one Pogues album, purchase If I Should Fall From Grace With God. Yes, this was the first produced by the "suits" at Island, and is a lot less spontaneous than its predecessor, but it's nonetheless the work of a band at the peak of creativity and surety of purpose. "Turkish Song Of The Damned", "Fiesta," "Streets of Sorrow/Birmingham," "Bottle Of Smoke." "South Australia" -- each has its own style, but is definitely recognizable as the work of the Pogues. Completely a pleasure to listen from the opening strains of "If I Should Fall From Grace With God" to the closing coda of "Worms," this is a bloody great mess of sound and emotion. There are more ghosts, political and just plain damned, than one cares to think about. Great gobs of Middle Eastern instrumentals infuse this album -- and listen for the weird screams on many of the cuts. "How Come, " "Bright Lights," "Living In A World Without Her, "and "When The Ship Comes In" are all standout tracks, bound to appeal to any Celtic punk lover. The weirdest thing about this that the Shane MacGowan and Kirsty MacColl duet, "Fairytale Of New York," a song of drunken, bitter realization of failed dreams, was the UK's #2 Christmas song in 1988!

What happened post-If I Should Fall From Grace With God was predictable given the increasingly downward spiral of Shane's life. The Rough Guide to Rock notes that:

The Pogues were never to repeat the success of these two records. Though they were easily filling big venues by now, their shows were revealing the problems that Peace And Love, released in 1989, would make painfully evident. Shane MacGowan's drinking and, to a lesser extent, drug-taking, were betraying his talent. Peace And Love was not a bad album, but was rarely inspired, and of MacGowan's six contributions only two - "White City" and "Down All The Days" - came close to his own high standards. His vocal performance, too, was badly affected. The rest of the band tried hard, but not even the accomplished Finer could fill the gap left by MacGowan's AWOL lifestyle. The Pogues were nearing the end.
To make things worse, the Peace And Love tour was shambolic. MacGowan lurched off stage at regular intervals, usually to return with a refilled glass; he forgot the words he himself had written; he fell over. In the end Spider Stacy had to take over much of the vocal work. Still, MacGowan did get it together enough to release one more album with The Pogues - 1990's Hell's Ditch. Surprisingly competent, it represented at least a partial return to form. "Summer In Siam", in particular, proved one more time and with simple style just how adept The Pogues were at producing the most delicate and moving of ballads.

But the Rough Guide, was wrong as their next album, Waiting for Herb, was a revelation: there was a really great trad band hiding behind the slurred drunken persona of Shane MacGowan. Don't buy this album expecting the Pogues of old: this is a quieter, more reflective undertaking. It was a commercial failure, but as the San Jose Mercury News noted: "With the folding of the Chameleon label into Elektra, it's unlikely this hearty Irish folk-rock album will get much promotion. More's the pity. "Waiting for Herb" bristles with traditionalism and modern punk fervor, with pumping button accordion, bouncy banjos and twangy guitars scoring the Pogues' raspy, angry-poet refrains," while the St. Louis Dispatch summed up what most critics felt about this album when they said "....Still, Waiting for Herb is a sobering experience for those who have come to expect a Pogues album to be as galvanizing as a shot of whiskey. Without MacGowan, the Pogues sound like a competent, Irish-flavored band covering Clash or Tom Waits material..." The trick to Waiting for Herb is not to think of it as a Pogues album, but rather as an outstanding Irish rock 'n' reel album.

They finally released an album named Pogue Mahone -- it must have been a great delight for the Spider Stacy-fronted band, as I suspect Shane was the intended recipient of this not-so-subtle message. This is the second album that the Pogues have put out since Shane MacGowan left, and like its predecessor Waiting for Herb, it's extremely consistent good music. The title could well be a missive to those who thought that they couldn't do it without Shane MacGowan. Spider Stacy continues handling most of the vocal duties, and he does a superb job of it. The punk edge that MacGowan brought into the band is gone, but it has been replaced by a stronger folk-rock aesthetic. The emotionally-charged songs are as catchy as ever, but also have a great deal of depth to them.

I've skipped over several albums -- this is my look at the Pogues -- but you now should have a feel for this seminal Irish punk/folk/rock group. If you don't like my opinions, pogue mahone!

[Jack B. Merry]