“Beauty and the beast”: The making of The Pogues’ “Fairytale Of New York”

Originally published in Uncut Take 116 [January 2007], Shane MacGowan, Jem Finer and producer Steve Lillywhite on The Pogues’ evergreen Christmas classic, “Fairytale Of New York”

It viewed the Christmas experience from a police cell and a hospital ward

First released in 1987, “Fairytale Of New York” was the highest charting single of The Pogues’ career. A Christmas No 2 that year, it was kept off the top spot by the Pet Shop Boys’ cover of “Always On My Mind”. “Fairytale…” has since charted on two further occasions, been the subject of three TV documentaries, and is a much-loved, glass-swilling staple of Christmas parties across the world.

MacGowan had been a face in London’s punk scene, making a minor splash with his band The Nips. But it was only when The Pogues married elements of Irish traditional music to a punkish vigour that he had the platform he needed to excel as a poet and chronicler of the London/Irish experience. Early doubters — including comedian Ben Elton — had dismissed them as a gimmick, but after two sensational albums (1984’s Red Roses For Me and Rum, Sodomy & The Lash in ’85) and a slew of great live shows, The Pogues were established as one of the most important bands of the ’80s. “Fairytale…”, featuring that astonishing vocal performance from Kirsty MacColl, sealed their international reputation.

The song almost didn’t make it. Hampered by a record company dispute, and the departure of original duet partner Cait O’Riordan, it took two years to complete. But its irresistible grandeur — the foul-mouthed duet undercut by a romantic waltz — made the wait worthwhile. Typically subversive, it viewed the Christmas experience from a police cell and a hospital ward, and its hard realism will forever stand as a welcome antidote to the usual seasonal chart blend of sentimentality and novelty.

“I nailed the lyrics in a kind of delirium”

SHANE MacGOWAN VOCAL AND LYRICIST: Elvis Costello set us a challenge to make a man/woman duet, a Christmas record, Pogues-style. I wrote the lyrics, but there was a lot of input from everyone involved. There were several different situations, all sorts of plots, before it turned into two Irish immigrants who had gone to New York and had success in Broadway in the 1930s.

Tom Waits and Crystal Gayle’s duets on the One From The Heart soundtrack were an influence — beauty and the beast, y’know? But so was [traditional Irish music legend] Seán Ó’Riada — we wanted a big, big sound. When I brought the first draft of lyrics in, Costello said, “Let’s call it ‘Christmas Eve In The Drunk Tank’.” But nobody wanted that. Jem [Finer] was reading A Fairytale Of New York by JP Donleavy — I saw it lying around and everyone agreed on that title.

Originally me and Cait did a version, but didn’t get it together in time for Christmas. Cait left and married Costello, but it was good that we worked on it for two years — during that time the band was improving, becoming more sophisticated.

The song was finally finished after I got double pneumonia on tour — not surprising, as I was walking round Copenhagen in a T-shirt and it’s fucking below zero! I had to stay inside in the warm and I had a keyboard. It was the song that took me longest to write — I finally nailed the lyrics in a kind of delirium. We’d known Kirsty MacColl for years, and when [producer and Kirsty’s then husband] Steve Lillywhite was producing our third album, we got talking and she said, “Let me have a go!” I was into that, because she produced her own vocals, right through her career — she was brilliant at that.

We sorted it out together in the studio then she took it away and worked on her own. I hummed the string arrangement and [arranger] Fiachra Trench who had worked with us before on Poguetry In Motion worked it out. Afterwards, when we went on the road, we had a brass section play the string part. Kirsty was an honour to work with, a beautiful person, but also capable of producing the aggression needed. She understood the point — the guy had won a lot of money on the horses, but he was an alcoholic, his wife was hovering between life and death. There’s no resolution, but it’s a joyous ending whether they live, die or get back together. Why? Because the music says so!

“It lived up to, and transcended, all our expectations”

JEM FINER BANJO AND CO-WRITER: Our manager gave us a tape of a Christmas song by The Band. We decided it was better to write our own. I wrote the melody on a tin whistle on the stairs of a flat where I was living near Kings Cross, while trying to make sure my daughter didn’t tumble down as she crawled! The song always had two connected sections and I always knew it was special.

I wrote some lyrics, expecting Shane to write something better, but my wife Marcia Farquhar played a crucial role in the song’s development. She suggested a couple having a row at the time of peace and goodwill, trying to crank up some Christmas spirit, but failing and fighting. But she warned there should definitely be some kind of redemption at the end, a little glimmer of hope amid the torture of packaged party time.

Shane took the new song I wrote, the second Christmas song and the first. From the first, the tune survives, from the second the storyline. The recording was done quickly, and when Steve turned up the volume on the tape with Kirsty on it, it was a lovely surprise and a relief — it lived up to, and transcended, all our expectations.

“They wanted to make greatness”

STEVE LILLYWHITE PRODUCER: We didn’t do pre-production — I don’t believe in that approach. If you get into a studio you can create magic — in a rehearsal room you can only be competent. With The Pogues, “competent” just wasn’t something any of us were interested in. They wanted to make greatness — I think I was pretty good at helping them do that.

The first time I heard the song was when we met for the sessions. Shane sang it and mentioned Kirsty first. Kirsty and Shane never sang the song at the same time. Shane gave me the sheet of lyrics with the male and female sections underlined. I had a studio at home and Kirsty did her parts there.

She loved the band and spent a long time on it, making sure that every single part was perfect. She had to learn it, and then unlearn it, get through the learning part so you can do it without thinking — that’s when you can put the real emotion into it.

She’s still the best person who has ever sung that song. Others have tried, but there’s no question. No one has given it what she gave it.

I remember taking her vocal back to play to the band. Shane had been pretty happy with his vocal before Kirsty had sung. Then we said, “C’mon Shane —you’ve got to raise your game!” Because at that point she sounded so much better than he did. He had to be at his best to set the song up in the introduction.

I thought at the time, ‘Oh, my God, we’re recording this song in July and it feels so much like Christmas.’ It felt weird. Then the band recorded the main part of the song and we spliced the two together. The Pogues were so musically rich they were a pleasure to record. I recorded the “engine room” — Darryl [Hunt], Andrew [Ranken] and Phil [Chevron] — together.

When it was finished, Shane didn’t think it sounded grand enough. But I’m sure he’s happy with it now and his bank manager is, too!