The Pogues Albums (7)
'Red Roses for Me'
Release Date 10/20/1998
Tracks 13
Label WEA International
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
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 comes 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 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 Rum 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, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Pogue Mahone (Gaelic for "kiss my arse") is the seventh and final studio album from lauded progressive Irish folk pioneers the Pogues. After the departure of Shane MacGowan, co-founder Spider Stacy found himself at the helm, singing and sharing songwriting duties with the rest of the group. If their post-MacGowan debut, Waiting for Herb, was a respectable attempt at recapturing the shape-shifting, genre-splitting days of classic tracks like "Fiesta," "Lorelei," and "Night Train to Lorca," Pogue Mahone is a celebration of the band's inception. Panned by critics and fans who refused to take a "Shane-less" Pogues seriously, both records are a testament to the band's enormous vault of talent. Stacy, who spent most of his career in MacGowan's shadow, rose to the occasion on Herb, offering up what must have been years of oppressed material, most of it remarkable. This time around it's the rest of the group that gets a shot at emptying their catalogs. In fact, Mahone is actually multi-instrumentalist Jem Finer and drummer Andrew Ranken's baby. For the most part they succeed in re-installing the traditional spark that made the group so electrifying in the '80s. Pub rockers like Finer's "Bright Lights" and Ranken's French rave-up "Amadie," while suffering from murky production, are rousing, raucous, and delightful, making one wonder what the public's reaction would have been had Pogue Mahone been a debut from a band nobody had ever heard of. [In 2005, WEA International reissued a re-mastered and expanded version of Pogue Mahone with the the bonus tracks "'Eyes Of An Angel" and a previously unreleased mix of "Love You Till The End."] ~ James Christopher Monger, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
With driving force Shane McGowan gone, the Pogues ended up with the same problems the Band experienced minus Robbie Robertson. McGowan's struggles with the bottle, and in turn the band, added the needed danger that kept things fiery and hotheaded. Without him the Pogues turned rootsy and effortless to a fault. The playing is there but the songs have lost their sharp edge. Spider Stacy's only writing contribution, "Tuesday Morning," is the best of the lot with a catchy hook and lazy way while the oddball "Pachinko," proves that McGowan didn't have the exclusive rights to creativity. Otherwise, one pensive song after another and depth ends up being the victim. ~ David Jeffries, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
After the embattled recording of the Pogues' Peace and Love, with Shane MacGowan clearly at odds with his bandmates and their musical direction while contributing little in the way of new songs, Hell's Ditch seemed at once like a step forward and a step back for the group. While Peace and Love suggested the Pogues had grown weary of the hot-rodded Celtic sounds that had been their trademark, Hell's Ditch found the band back in more familiar territory and sounding much refreshed; if there wasn't anything as manic as the high points of Rum Sodomy & the Lash or If I Should Fall from Grace with God, these sessions reveal the Pogues had found their feet and were sounding like a band again, and while a few of MacGowan's songs lead them through his fascination with Asian and Latin accents, the musicians were able to fuse them with their own trademark style rather than being subsumed by them; the Pogues rarely sounded as graceful or a comfortable as they do on Hell's Ditch. However, MacGowan's songwriting still hadn't regained the fire and acidity that made the group's first three albums so powerful, and Terry Woods and Jem Finer don't quite pick up the slack. More importantly, while Joe Strummer's production served the band well, he was seemingly too fond of MacGowan to tell him when his vocals were all but unintelligible, and many of the songs are all but sunk by Shane's sloppy, mush-mouthed, and booze-addled delivery, which is difficult to unravel even by his standards. While there are many pearly moments on Hell's Ditch that suggest the work of a happier and more unified band than on their previous albums, MacGowan's poorly focused performances are a handicap the Pogues couldn't overcome, and it seems appropriate this was the band's last studio album with their primary songwriter and frontman. ~ Mark Deming, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Shane MacGowan's potent appetite for alcohol was evident from the time the Pogues cut their first album, but by the time they got to work on Peace and Love in 1989, it was evident that he'd gone far past the point of enjoying a few pints (or many pints) and had sunk deep into drug and alcohol dependence. The Pogues were always far more than just MacGowan's backing band, but with the group's principal songwriter and lead singer frequently unable to rise to the occasion, the recording of Peace and Love became a trying experience, with the rest of the band often scrambling to take up the slack for their down-for-the-count frontman. Given the circumstances, the Pogues deliver with greater strength than one might expect on Peace and Love; while MacGowan's vocals are often mush-mouthed and his songwriting is markedly beneath his previous standards, Terry Woods contributes two terrific traditional-style numbers ("Young Ned of the Hill" and "Gartloney Rats"), Philip Chevron's "Lorelei" is a superb tale of lost love (he and Darryl Hunt also teamed up for a fine bit of Celtic-calypso fusion on "Blue Heaven"), and Jem Finer brought along a trio of strong originals. Musically, Peace and Love found the band stretching their boundaries, adding accents of film noir jazz on "Gridlock," rockabilly on "Cotton Fields," straight-ahead rock on "USA," and power pop on "Lorelei," though the group's highly recognizable Celtic-trad-on-steroids style is never far beneath the surface. Peace and Love isn't as good as the two Pogues albums that preceded it (which represent the finest work of their career), but it does make clear that MacGowan was hardly the only talented songwriter in the band -- though the fact that the set's most memorable songs were written by others did not bode well for the group's future. ~ Mark Deming, All Music Guide
'If I Should Fall from Grace with God'
Release Date 1/1/1988
Tracks 15
Label Island
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
If Rum Sodomy & the Lash captured the Pogues on plastic in all their rough-and-tumble glory, If I Should Fall from Grace with God proved they could learn the rudiments of proper record making and still come up with an album that captured all the sharp edges of their musical personality. Producer Steve Lillywhite imposed a more disciplined approach in the studio than Elvis Costello had, but he had the good sense not to squeeze the life out of the band in the process; as a result, the Pogues sound tighter and more precise than ever, while still summoning up the glorious howling fury that made Rum Sodomy & the Lash so powerful. And Shane MacGowan continued to grow as a songwriter, as his lyrics and melodies captured with brilliant detail his obsession with the finer points of Anglo-Irish culture. "Fairytale of New York," a glorious sweet-and-sour duet with Kirsty MacColl, and "The Broad Majestic Shannon" were subtle in a way many of his previous work was not, "Birmingham Six" found him addressing political issues for the first time (and with all the expected venom), and "Fiesta" and "Turkish Song of the Damned" found him adding (respectively) faux-Spanish and Middle Eastern flavors into the Pogues' heady mix. And if you want to hear the Pogues blaze through some fast ones, "Bottle of Smoke" and the title song find them doing just what they've always done best. Brilliantly mixing passion, street smarts, and musical ambition, If I Should Fall from Grace with God is the best album the Pogues would ever make. ~ Mark Deming, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
"I saw my task... was to capture them in their delapidated glory before some more professional producer f--ked them up," Elvis Costello wrote of his role behind the controls for the Pogues' second album, Rum Sodomy & the Lash. One spin of the album proves that Costello accomplished his mission; this album captures all the sweat, fire, and angry joy that was lost in the thin, disembodied recording of the band's debut, and the Pogues sound stronger and tighter without losing a bit of their edge in the process. Rum Sodomy & the Lash also found Shane MacGowan growing steadily as a songwriter; while the debut had its moments, the blazing and bitter roar of the opening track, "The Sick Bed Of Cuchulainn," made it clear MacGowan had fused the intelligent anger of punk and the sly storytelling of Irish folk as no one had before, and the rent boys' serenade of "The Old Main Drag" and the dazzling, drunken character sketch of "A Pair of Brown Eyes" proved there were plenty of directions where he could take his gifts. And like any good folk group, the Pogues also had a great ear for other people's songs. Bassist Cait O'Riordan's haunting performance of "I'm a Man You Don't Meet Every Day" is simply superb (it must have especially impressed Costello, who would later marry her), and while Shane MacGowan may not have written "Dirty Old Town" or "And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda," his wrought, emotionally compelling vocals made them his from then on. Rum Sodomy & the Lash falls just a bit short of being the Pogues best album, but was the first one to prove that they were a great band, and not just a great idea for a band. ~ Mark Deming, All Music Guide
