Pays to remember that after the taste of liberally laced eggnog has long been washed away by dirty rain. Replaced by bills to pay for impulse purchases as well as those made necessary by family. At this time of year few of those on the ropes have any expectations. Bah, expectorations are more like it.
Hence ‘tis never been curious that some sad songs hit home more than others. If only because so many of the seasonal classics are about insipid, empty, meaningless messages. Temporary escape if one does not follow the inherent belief of being saved year-round. Consider the enduring appeal of The Pogues’ “Fairytale of New York”, one of Ireland’s most loved Christmas songs. When frontman Shane MacGowan died in November, the song once again reached out to many beyond the Emerald Isle.
MacGowan, ironically enough, was born on Christmas day of 1957. The song morphs from the opening gloomy lines of Christmas Eve in the drunk tank to a sprightly back-and-forth reel. Yet it is all about how youthful hopes are crushed by alcohol and drugs. “Happy Christmas your arse” is how MacGowan sings it while the bells are ringing out for Christmas day.
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