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The Pogues: The Rest of the Best

 A l b u m   D e t a i l s


Label: Warner Music UK Ltd.
Released: 1992.06.12
Time:
 50:52
Category: Celtic
Producer(s): See Artists ...
Rating: *****..... (5/10)
Media type: CD
Web address: www.pogues.com
Appears with:
Purchase date: 2001.04.06
Price in €: 6,99



 S o n g s ,   T r a c k s


[1] If I Should Fall from Grace With God (MacGowan) - 2:22
[2] The Sick Bed of Cúchulánn (MacGowan) - 3:00
[3] The Old Main Drag (MacGowan) - 3:19
[4] Boys from the County Hell (MacGowan) - 2:56
[5] Yound Ned of the Hill (Kavana/Woods) - 3:01
[6] Dark Streets of London (MacGowan) - 3:32
[7] The Auld Triangle (Beban) - 4:21
[8] Repeal of the Licensing Laws (Stacy) - 2:10
[9] Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah (MacGowan) - 3:19
[10] London Girl (MacGowan) - 3:16
[11] Honky Tonk Women (Jagger/Richards) - 2:56
[12] Summer in Siam (MacGowan) - 4:08
[13] Turkish Song of the Damned (Finer/MacGowan) - 3:27
[14] Lullaby of London (MacGowan) - 3:32
[15] The Sunnyside of the Street (Finer/MacGowan) - 2:44
[16] Hell's Ditch (Finer/MacGowan) - 3:04

 A r t i s t s ,   P e r s o n n e l


RON KAVANA - Banjo, Mandolin, Vocals, Background Vocals, Spoons
JOE CASHMAN - Tenor Saxophone, Vocals
PHILIP CHEVRON - Guitar, Mandolin, Vocals
BRIAN CLARKE - Alto Saxophone
JAMES FEARNLEY - Dulcimer, Guitar, Mandolin, Percussion, Piano, Accordion, Arranger, Cello
JEM FINER - Banjo, Mandolin, Saxophone, Mandola
DARRYL HUNT - Bass, Percussion, Vocals
JOHN LAWLER - Percussion, Vocals, Background Vocals
CHRIS LEE - Trumpet
STEVE LILLYWHITE - Vocals, Background Vocals, Producer
SHANE MACGOWAN - Guitar, Vocals
FRANK MURRAY - Vocals, Background Vocals
ANDREW RANKEN - Harmonica, Percussion, Drums, Vocals
PAUL SCULLY - Vocals
SIOBHAN SHEAHAN - Harp, Bodhran
SPIDER STACY - Vocals, Whistle
PAUL TAYLOR - Trombone
ELI THOMPSON - Trumpet
PAUL VERNER - Vocals, Background Vocals
TERRY WOODS - Dulcimer, Banjo, Guitar, Concertina, Vocals, Cittern, Mandola
JAMES FERNLEY - Dulcimer, Guitar, Percussion, Piano, Accordion, Cello, Mandola

ELVIS COSTELLO - Producer
JOE STRUMMER - Producer
STAN BRENNAN - Producer
PAUL COBBOLD - Engineer
CHRIS DICKIE - Engineer
NICK LACEY - Engineer
STEVE LILLYWHITE - Producer
NICK ROBBINS - Engineer
PAUL SCULLY - Engineer
CRAIG THOMSON - Engineer
ROY SPONG - Engineer
NICK LACEY - Engineer
CHRIS DICKIE - Engineer
FIACHRA TRENCH - Arranger

 C o m m e n t s ,   N o t e s


1992 CD WEA 77341
1999 CD Wea International 77341



By demonstrating that the spirit of punk could live in traditional Irish folk music, the Pogues were one of the most radical bands of the mid-'80s. Led by Shane MacGowan, whose slurred, incomprehensible voice often disguised the sheer poetry of his songs, the Pogues were undeniably political — not only were many of their songs explicitly in favor of working-class liberalism, but the wild, careening sound of their punk-injected folk was implicitly radical. While the band was clearly radical, they also had a wickedly warped sense of humor, which was abundantly clear on their biggest hit, the fractured Christmas carol "Fairy Tale of New York." The group's first three albums — Red Roses for Me, Run Sodomy and the Lash, If I Should Fall From Grace From God — were widely praised in both Britain and America, and by 1988 they had earned substantial cult followings in both countries. Yet MacGowan's darkly romantic, wasted lifestyle, which was so key to their spirit and success, ultimately proved to be their downfall. By the end of the decade, he had fallen deep into alcoholism and drug addiction, forcing the band to fire him if they wanted to survive. The Pogues carried on without him in the early '90s, playing to a slowly shrinking audience, before finally disbanding in 1995.

Shane MacGowan, an Irish punk inspired by the Clash, formed the Pogues in 1982 after playing with the London-based punk band the Nipple Erectors, a group which was later called the Nips. MacGowan met Spider Stacy in a London tube station, where Stacy was playing a tin whistle. The two began working together, drafting former Nip Jim Fearnley to play guitar. Naming themselves Pogue Mahone — a Gaelic term meaning "kiss my ass" — the trio began playing traditional Irish tunes in London pubs and streets, eventually adding Jeremy Finer (banjo, guitar), Andrew David Ranken (drums) and Cait O'Riordan (bass) to make it a full band. As the group developed into a sextet, they added MacGowan's original songs to their repertoire, and began earning a reputation as a wild, drunken and exciting live act. Shortening their name to the Pogues, the group released an independent single, "Dark Streets of London," in early 1984 and supported the Clash on their summer tour. By the fall, they had signed with Stiff Records and had released their acclaimed debut, Red Roses for Me.

Red Roses for Me was a critical hit, establishing the Pogues as one of the most vital, and certainly one of the most political, bands in Britain. Early in 1985, they added guitarist Philip Chevron and recorded Rum Sodomy and the Lash with producer Elvis Costello. The album was an underground success and was widely praised, especially for MacGowan's songwriting — not only in the U.K., but also in the U.S., where they were becoming college radio staples. Instead of following Rum Sodomy and the Lash with a new album, the Pogues took nearly a full year hiatus from recording, releasing the Poguetry in Motion EP in 1986 and appearing in Alex Cox's film Straight to Hell in 1987. By 1988, O'Riordan had left the band to marry Costello, and she was replaced by Darryl Hunt; banjoist Terry Woods was also added to the band. Early in 1988, they signed to Island Records and released the Steve Lillywhite-produced If I Should Fall from Grace with God later that year. The album became the group's biggest hit, generating the number two U.K. single "Fairytale of New York," which featured vocalist Kirsty MacColl.

Although the Pogues were peaking in popularity, Shane MacGowan's relentless drug and alcohol abuse was beginning to cripple the band. Although neither the 1989 hit single "Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah" or Peace and Love (also '89) were noticeably affected by his excesses, MacGowan missed the Pogues' prestigious opening dates in 1988 for Bob Dylan and stalked the stage like a madman during a pivotal Saturday Night Live performances. By 1990's Hell's Ditch, Spider Stacy and Jeremy Finer began singing the bulk of the Pogues' material. Despite positive reviews, Hell's Ditch was a flop, and the group wasn't able to support the record because of MacGowan's behavior. Consequently, he was asked to leave the band in 1991; three years later, he returned with a new band, the Popes. For subsequent tours, the Clash's Joe Strummer filled in as lead vocalist, but by the time the band recorded their comeback Waiting for Herb in 1993, Stacy had become the permanent vocalist. Waiting for Herb was kindly reviewed, yet was also ignored, as was 1995's Pogue Mahone. In 1996, the Pogues decided to disband after 14 years in the business.

Stephen Thomas Erlewine - All Music Guide



1992 collection on Warner Brothers featuring 16 of the Irishfolk/ punk band's best, 1984-1990, including their cover of the Rolling Stones' 'Honky Tonk Women', plus 'Yeah Yeah YeahYeah Yeah', 'The Sunny Side Of The Street', 'Dark Streets OfLondon' and more.

Amazon.com
 

 L y r i c s


IF I SHOULD FALL FROM GRACE WITH GOD

If I should fall from grace with God
Where no doctor can re[A]lieve me.
If I'm buried 'neath the sod
But the angels won't re[F#m]ceive me.

Let me go, boys,
Let me go, boys.
Let me go down in the mud
Where the rivers all run dry.

This land was always ours,
Was the proud land of our fathers.
It belongs to us and them,
Not to any of the others.

Let them go, boys,
Let them go, boys.
Let them go down in the mud
Where the rivers all run dry.

Bury me at sea
Where no murdered ghost can haunt me.
If I rock upon the waves
Then no corpse can lie upon me.

It's coming up threes, boys,
Coming up threes, boys.
Let them go down in the mud
Where the rivers all run dry.

If I should fall from grace with God
Where no doctor can relieve me.
If I'm buried 'neath the sod
So the angels won't receive me.

Let me go, boys,
Let me go, boys.
Let me go down in the mud
Where the rivers all run dry.


THE SICK BED OF CUCHULAINN

McCormack and Richard  Tauber
Are  singing by the  bed.
There's a  glass of punch below your feet
And an  angel at your  head.
There's  devils on each  side of you
With  bottles in their  hands.
You need  one more drop of  poison
And you'll dream of foreign lands.

When you  pissed yourself in  Frankfurt
And got  syph down in Cologne
And you  heard the rattling  death trains
As you  lay there all alone,
Frank  Ryan brought you  whiskey
In a  brothel in Madrid
And you  decked some fucking  blackshirt
Who was  cursing all the  Yids.
At the  sick bed of Cuchulainn
We'll  kneel and say a  prayer
And the  ghosts are rattling  at the door
And the  devil's in the  chair.

And  in the Euston  Tavern
You  screamed it was your  shout
But they  wouldn't give you  service
So you  kicked the windows  out.
They  took you out into the street
And  kicked you in the  brains,
So you  walked back in through a  bolted door
And  did it all again.
At the  sick bed of Cuchulainn
We'll  kneel and say a  prayer
And the  ghosts are rattling  at the door
And the  devil's in the  chair.

You remember that foul  evening
When you  heard the banshees  howl,
There was  lazy drunken  bastards
Singing  'Billy is in the  bowl.'
They  took you up to  midnight mass
And  left you in the  lurch
So you  dropped a button  in the plate
And spewed up in the church.

Now you'll  sing a song of  liberty
For  blacks and paks and  jocks
And they'll  take you from this  dump you're in
And  stick you in a  box.
Then they'll  take you to Cloughprior
And  shove you in the  ground
But you'll  stick your head back  out and shout,
"We'll  have another  round."
At the  graveside of Cuchulainn
We'll  kneel around and  pray
And  God is in His  heaven,
And  Billy's down by the  bay.


THE OLD MAIN DRAG

When I first came to London I was only sixteen
With a fiver in my pocket and my ole dancing bag
I went down to the dilly to check out the scene
And I soon ended up on the old main drag

There the he-males and the she-males paraded in style
And the old men with the money would flash you a smile
In the dark of an alley you'll work for a five
For a swift one off the wrist down on the old main drag

In the cold winter nights the old town it was chill
But there were boys in the cafes who'd give you cheap pills
If you didn't have the money you'd cajole or you'd beg
There was always lots of tuinol on the old main drag

One evening as I was lying down by Leicester Square
I was picked up by the coppers and kicked in the balls
Between the metal doors at Vine Street I was beaten and mauled
And they ruined my good looks for the old main drag

In the tube station the old ones who were on their way out
Would dribble and vomit and grovel and shout
And the coppers would come along and push them about
And I wished I could escape from the old main drag

And now I'm lying here I've had too much booze
I've been shat on and spat on and raped and abused
I know that I am dying and I wish I could beg
For some money to take me from the old main drag


BOYS FROM THE COUNTY HELL

[banjo]

On the first day of march it was raining
It was raining worse than anything that I have ever seen
I drank ten pints of beer and I cursed all the people there
And I wish that all this raining would stop falling down on me

And it's lend me ten pounds and I'll buy you a drink
And mother wake me early in the morning

At the time I was working for a landlord
And he was the meanest bastard that you have ever seen
And to lose a single penny would grieve him awful sore
And he was a miserable bollocks and a bitch's bastard's whore

Chorus

I recall that we took care of him one Sunday
We got him out the back and we broke his fucking balls
And maybe that was dreaming and maybe that was real
But all I know is I left the place without a penny or fuck all

Chorus

And now I've the most charming of verandahs
I sit and watch the junkies, the drunks and pimps and whores
Five green bottles are sitting on the floor
And I wish to Christ I wish to Christ that I had fifteen more

Chorus

[banjo]

Chorus

The boys and me are drunk and looking for you
We'll eat your frigging entrails and we won't give a damn
Me daddy was a blueshirt and my mother a madam
And my brother earned his medals raping gooks in Vietnam

Chorus

On the first day of march it was raining
It was raining worse than anything that I have ever seen
Stay on the other side of the road 'cause you can never tell
We've a thirst like a gang of devils we're the boys from the county hell

Chorus X 2


YOUNG NED OF THE HILL

Have you ever walked the lonesome hills
And heard the curlews cry
And seen the raven black as night
Upon the windswept sky
To walk the purple heather
And hear the westwind cry
To know that's where the rapparee must die

Since Cromwell pushed us westward
To live our lowly lives
There's some of us have deemed to fight
From Tipperary mountains high
Noble men with wills of iron
Who are not afraid to die
Who'll fight with gaelic honour held on high

Chorus:

A curse upon you Oliver Cromwell
You who raped our Motherland
I hope you're rotting down in hell
For the horrors that you sent
To our misfortunate forefathers
Whom you robbed of their birthright
"To hell or Connought" may you burn in hell tonight

Of such a man I'd like to speak
A rapparee by name and deed
His family dispossessed and slaughtered
They put a price upon his head
His name is known in song and story
His deeds are legend still
And murdered for blood money
Was young Ned of the hill

You have robbed our homes and fortunes
Even drove us from our land
You tried to break our spirit
But you'll never understand
The love of dear old Ireland
That will forge an iron will
As long as there are gallant men
Like young Ned of the hill


DARK STREETS OF LONDON

I liked to walk in the summer breeze
Down Dalling Road by the dead old trees
And drink with my friends in the Hammersmith Broadway
Dear dirty delightful old drunken old days

Then the winter came down and I loved it so dearly
The pubs and the bookies where you'd spend all your time
And the old men that were singing when the roses bloom again
And turn like the leaves to a new summertime

Then the winter comes down and I can't stand the chill
That comes to the streets around Christmas time
And I'm buggered to damnation and I haven't got a penny
To wander the dark streets of London

And every time that I look on the first day of summer
Takes me back to the place where they gave ECT
And the drugged up psychos with death in their eyes
And how all of this really means nothing to me

Now the winter comes down and I can't stand the chill
That comes to the streets around Christmas time
And I'm buggered to damnation and I haven't got a penny
To wander the dark streets of London

Interlude: X 1

And every time that I look on the first day of summer
Takes me back to the place where they gave ECT
And the drugged up psychos with death in their eyes
And how all of this really means nothing to me

Now the winter comes down and I can't stand the chill
That comes to the streets around Christmas time
And I'm buggered to damnation and I haven't got a penny
To wander the dark streets of London
To wander the dark streets of London
To wander the dark streets of London
To wander the dark streets of London

Interlude: X 4 (to fade out)


THE AULD TRIANGLE

THE AULD TRIANGLE, from Red Roses For Me

A hungry feeling
Came o'er me stealing
And the mice were squeeling
In my prison cell
And that auld triangle went jingle-jangle
All along the banks of the Royal Canal

Oh! To start the morning
The warden bawling
"Get up out of bed, you! And Clean out your cell!"
And that auld triangle went jingle-jangle
All along the banks of the Royal Canal

Oh! the screw was peeping
And the loike was sleeping
As he lay weeping
For his girl Sal
And that auld triangle went jingle-jangle
All along the banks of the Royal Canal

On a fine Spring evening
The loike lay dreaming
And the sea-gulls were wheeling
High above the wall
And that auld triangle went jingle-jangle
All along the banks of the Royal Canal

Oh! the wind was sighing
And the day was dying
As the loike lay crying
In his prison cell
And that auld triangle went jingle-bloody-jangle
All along the banks of the Royal Canal

In the women's prison
There are seventy women
And I wish it was with them
That I did dwell
Then that auld triangle could go jingle-jangle
All along the banks of the Royal Canal


REPEAL OF THE LICENSING LAWS

(Sorry, this lyrics is not available yet, please help us and send the missing lyrics to audio-music.info)


YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH

I love you baby since we were at school
I didn't show it I was a fool
You were burning I was cold as ice
And baby now I realize Oh yeah

Chorus:
Yeah yeah yeah yeah (yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah (yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah (yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah (yeah yeah yeah yeah)
Wooo-oooh-oooh-oooh
Wooo-oooh-oooh-oooh

I gave you misery I gave you lies
I never hurt you, apologize
I love your lips I love your eyes
I love your breasts I love your thighs

Chorus

Now all I can do is hope and pray
That you'll forgive me before it's too late
There's only one thing I can say to you
You know I love you you know it's true
Oh yeah

Chorus several times


LONDON GIRL

The devil moon took me through the alley
Down by the Kardomah and the Centrale
To the Mews running through the backstreets
Where the Blacks sold fire and sleep
The devil moon took me out of Soho
Up to Camden where the cold north winds blow
Sucked along by a winter shower
To stand beside your shining tower

This could be our final dance
This could be our very last chance
Just the sound of your voice
Wherever I may be changes everything
And then the world's right with me
You're my London girl
The way that you walk
You're my london girl
The way that you talk
Just the sound of your voice
And I ain't got no choice

The light was goinbg out, the moon was dying
The night was turning to a fine Spring morning
The dogs were barking and the kids were shouting
The sun was splashing in a crystal fountain
When the cold winds come to find you
Blowing down from the top of the high rise
I'll come and take you back down to Soho
Away from all those mad men's eyes

This could be our final dance
This could be our very last chance
And if you cut me
Don't you think I feel
Is this body made of clay
Is this heart made of steel
You're my London girl
The way that you walk
You're my London girl
The way that you talk
Just the sound of your voice
I ain't got no choice

This could be our final dance
This could be our very last chance
And if you cut me
Don't you think I feel
Is this body made of clay
Is this heart made of steel
You're my London girl
The way that you walk
You're my London girl
The way that you talk
Just the sound of your voice
I ain't got no choice


HONKY TONK WOMAN

I met a gin-soaked barroom queen in Memphis,
She tried to take me upstairs for a ride.
She had to heave me right across her shoulder,
Cause I just can't seem to drink you off my mind.

It's the honky tonk women,
That gimme, gimme, gimme the honky tonk blues.

I laid a divorcee in New York City,
I had to put up some kind of a fight.
The lady, then she covered me in roses,
She blew my nose and then she blew my mind.

It's the honky tonk women,
That gimme, gimme, gimme the honky tonk blues.
It's the honky tonk women,
That gimme, gimme, gimme the honky tonk blues.
It's the honky tonk women,
That gimme, gimme, gimme the honky tonk blues.


SUMMER IN SIAM

When it's Summer in Siam
And the moon is full of rainbows
When it's Summer in Siam
And we go through many changes
When it's Summer in Siam
Then all I really know
Is that I truly am
In the Summer in Siam


TURKISH SONG OF THE DAMNED

I come old friend from Hell tonight
Across the rotting sea
Nor the nails of the cross
Nor the blood of Christ
Can bring you help this eve
The dead have come to claim a debt from thee
They stand outside your door
Four score and three
Did you keep a watch for the dead man's wind
Did you see the woman with the comb in her hand
Wailing away on the wall on the strand
As you danced to the Turkish song of the damned

You remember when the ship went down
You left me on the deck
The captain's corpse jumped up
And threw his arms around my neck
For all these years I've had him on my back
This debt cannot be paid with all your jack

And as I sit and talk to you I see your face go white
This shadow hanging over me
Is no trick of the light
The spectre on my back will soon be free
The dead have come to claim a debt from thee


LULLABY OF LONDON

As I walked down by the riverside
One evening in the spring
Heard a long gone song
From days gone by
Blown in on the great North wind
Though there is no lonesome corncrake's cry
Of sorrow and delight
You can hear the cars
And the shouts from bars
And the laughter and the fights

May the ghosts that howled
Round the house at night
Never keep you from your sleep
May they all sleep tight
Down in hell tonight
Or wherever they may be

As I walked on with a heavy heart
Then a stone danced on the tide
And the song went on
Though the lights were gone
And the North wind gently sighed
And an evening breeze coming from the East
That kissed the riverside
So I pray now child that you sleep tonight
When you hear this lullaby
May the wind that blows from haunted graves
Never bring you misery
May the angels bright
Watch you tonight
And keep you while you sleep


SUNNYSIDE OF THE STREET 

Seen the carnival at Rome
Had the women I had the booze
All I can remember now
Is little kids without no shoes
So I saw that train
And I got on it
With a heartful of hate
And a lust for vomit
Now I'm walking on the sunnyside of the street
 
Stepped over bodies in Bombay
Tried to make it to the U.S.A.
Ended up in Nepal
Up on the roof with nothing at all
And I knew that day
I was going to stay
Right where I am, on the sunnyside of the street
 
Been in a palace, been in a jail
I just don't want to be reborn a snail
Just want to spend eternity
Right where I am, on the sunnyside of the street
 
As my mother wept it was then I swore
To take my life as I would a whore
I know I'm better than before
I will not be reconstructed
Just wanna stay right here
On the sunnyside of the street


HELL'S DITCH

Life's a bitch, then you die
Black Hell
Hell's ditch - naked howling freedom
The killer's hands are bound with chains
At six o'clock it starts to rain
He'll never see the dawn again
Our lady of the flowers

Genet's feeling Ramon's dick
The guy in the bunk above gets sick
In the cell next door the lunatic
Starts screaming for his mother

Black dildo, black hell,
As the Spanish cops ridiculed my gel
A mugshot I remember well
Little man how you have suffered

I could hear the screams from up above
If it ain't a fist it isn't love
As for our lady she kneels down
Her neck is bent, the blade comes down
Doing! There goes the breakfast bell
Back from heaven, back to hell
Naked howling freedom - Hell's Ditch
 

 M P 3   S a m p l e s


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