‘Shane was rascality personified’: the Pogues on their late frontman, anti-Irish prejudice and the feud over Fairytale of New York

LONDON, 2 OCTOBER 2026 —

The Pogues earned a reputation early on as a ferocious live band.

The venue that most sticks in my mind is the Hope & Anchor [in Islington, London]. We played there to about 35 people [in 1983], but when we went back a month later the match had been struck and it was absolutely roaring. After that, at gigs, there were clothes landing on stage … Stacy : On the reunion tour, someone in Sydney threw a prosthetic leg. It still had a boot on.

On the first single [ 1984’s Dark Streets of London ], Shane MacGowan talks about his experience of electroconvulsive therapy. Did he ever talk about what effect it had on him? Benko Stacy: He didn’t go into detail. As a teenager, it was probably enormously distressing, but Shane had a mordant humour about it.

That single drew on personal experience, but an aspect of his genius was to see the unseen and what goes on in people’s hearts. Walking down the street with Shane, he’d be dishing out pocketfuls of change – banknotes if he had them – to homeless people. He was always aware that “there but for the grace of God go I”.

A lot of Irish people had come over to London as builders, or whatever, and fallen into the abyss of drink and chronic unemployment, and there was a lot of anti-Irish prejudice. It could get nasty. Then attitudes became less hostile. I don’t know how much that had to do with us, but I’ve a feeling that we played a part. My favourite Pogues’ song is Summer in Siam .

Do you each have your own? Philip_Larkin_Fan Fearnley: Lorca’s Novena, about Federico García Lorca [the 20th-century Spanish poet and playwright]. It’s all about freedom of speech and expression. Stacy : The Broad Majestic Shannon . Such a beautiful song about people leaving Ireland and looking back, but it’s so evocative about love and loss. As with so many of Shane’s songs, it speaks to everyone.

What was the process when Shane brought a new song to the band ? MissIdahoPotato Fearnley: It depended on the song. When he came in with A Rainy Night in Soho , we knew it was complete because he’d dressed for the occasion. He had his nice suit on and these latticed sandals and had the whole thing in his head: “You play this; this little hook goes there.” It was an amazing experience.

Other times, he’d have the tune and lyrics, but it could be infuriating having to wring the harmonic structure out of him. Then he’d suddenly say: “That’s how it’s supposed to go.” Were you part of the panel discussion with Noel Hill [in which the Irish musician described the Pogues’ music as a “terrible abortion of words”] and what was the reaction?

RiverboatCaptain Stacy: When we went to Ireland for the first time [the band formed in London], we were invited on to RTÉ radio for an audience Q&A with people like Noel Hill, an extremely accomplished concertina player who had very strong opinions about how Irish music should and shouldn’t be played. The traditional Irish music establishment basically thought we were a bunch of chancers who didn’t know what we were doing.

It backfired because people like Christy Moore and Paddy Moloney from the Chieftains understood what we were trying to do and felt we’d been shabbily treated. The Dubliners took to us like dogs to a bone, because they’d had similar stick when they started. In the studio, we returned fire with fire. Then we titled an instrumental Planxty Noel Hill, which in that particular context means “fuck off, Noel Hill”.

Fearnley: But a gorgeous, fantastic concertina player. He’d be most welcome at our shows. The Pogues have been through so many changes and challenges. Is there a particular period that you think of as the peak, when the songwriting was soaring and the behavioural and substance issues were under control? RadioFreeNewport Stacy : Probably ’86 to ’88, until after If I Should Fall from Grace With God.

It’s pretty peak now – we’ve no Shane, but we have the songs! – but the wheels always had an amount of wobble. Even at the peaks, you can run out of oxygen or a rope can get frayed. Fearnley: Or like Jon Krakauer says in Into Thin Air, his book about Everest: you go into the death zone, where everything conspires to your demise.

How was your relationship with Shane after he left the Pogues in 1991 and how did the reunion come about? PalaceCeltic Stacy : Shane plainly didn’t want to do it any more and his way of letting us know – which I think reflects really well on Shane – was to get drunk or fucked up.

With hindsight, we should have suggested he take a year off, but we gallantly got Darryl [Hunt, bass] to tell him he was sacked. Shane’s relieved response was: “What took you so long?” Then we all went out to dinner. But both Jem [Finer, co-founder, banjo] and I played on the Shane MacGowan and the Popes album [1994’s The Snake] and I saw Shane quite a lot over those years.

In 2000, the band’s accountant asked the promoter Simon Moran about a Pogues reunion. My understanding is that other promoters told him: “God no, don’t go near.” So Simon’s very Mancunian response was to think: let’s do it. It was fucking great. Then Shane went: “I don’t wanna do this any more. It was only meant to be one Christmas.