#Fairytale Of New York

[degenderates]

merry christmas to all scumbags, maggots, and cheap lousy faggots<3

[millionmovieproject]

"People are talking about immigration, emigration and the rest of the fucking thing. It's all fucking crap. We're all human beings, we're all mammals, we're all rocks, plants, rivers. Fucking borders are just such a pain in the fucking arse."

[gone2soon-rip]

Fairytale of new York - The Pogues . Shane MacGowan ()1957-2023

[darrys-laundry]

FAIRYTALE OF PHILADELPHIA — THE PHILLY SPECIALS, JASON KELCE, TRAVIS KELCE

[littlelodell]

“It was Christmas Eve, babe

In the drunk tank

An old man said to me

Won’t see another one.”

Shane MacGowan 1958-2023

[lastyears-man]

Shane MacGowan & Kirsty MacColl, 1987

[skulkingwriter]

Them, wringing their hands: there’s no way you can just sing the word ‘faggot’ in the middle of a Christmas song no matter how very not family friendly it was originally intended to be

Also them: there’s also no way you can censor the word without it feeling like a big woke clang in the middle of what is, let’s remember, mostly a song about spending Christmas Eve in the drunk tank after or maybe before a massive drunken bust up with your significant other

Grace Petrie, entering stage left with a steel chair: WE LOVE DIANE ABBOT

[sourcreammachine]

fuck it, let’s die on this hill

FAIRYTALE OF NEW YORK IS THE ULTIMATE QUEER YULETIDE SONG

the straights have been getting increasingly uncomfortable with it in the last few years. you’re going to see a big resurgence of the censored version this year because Shane MacGowan died last week, but it has been well on the decline - meaning a wide open gulf is forming to allow the cheap, lousy faggots to swoop in and continue colonising it. here’s why we should

firstly it’s an absolute banger. traditional irish music combined with modern drums into a sound that fits the yule aesthetic perfectly whilst bringing drama and emotion. it’s cozied up by the fire, but alive and dramatic

the biggest source of discomfort for most people is that it’s MacGowan and MacColl aggressively arguing at each other, rattling off textbook sexist vitriol. and MacColl calls MacGowan a faggot, with total sincere usage of the slur, hatred and all. putting the slur aside, the nastiness of the song gets people’s ire. it’s a couple having a stereotypical domestic and they seem to kiss and make up in the final act, all unacceptable behaviour forgiven. it’s everything modern straights want to put in the past. so let them. it’s a het couple being toxic, cool. queer celebration has attached the bandwagon to worse things and it’s always taking up the castoffs of heteronormative society. queer love can be made of FONY all the same:

MacGowan’s first verse stings, does it not? sadness, desperation, and longing. in queer society, we have all been MacGowan’s character and we have all been the Old Man, even if it’s not the bottle and the drunk tank. we’re survivors, we’re bloodied and bruised, we refuse to go away no matter how many AIDS-genocides, moral panics, and hate-murders they do to us. there are nights where we think by all mercy we Won’t See Another One, and we turn our face away and Dream About You. there’s always hope. there’s always reasons to continue the fight, and they don’t have to be abstract

when the sobbing’s over, the Pogues immediately come to life for the main body. we go up and down the rollercoaster of emotions while the band keeps playing, while the air is always jubilant. the wonder, the delight, the hope, the madlove, the melodrama, the bile, the hatred. for a song making allusions of broadway, it sounds fresh from broadway - our story is painted through feelings, not words. and when it’s over, MacColl’s character (seems to, judging by the tonal finality of MacGowan’s lines and her participation in the final chorus) forgives her abusive partner and reattaches her hopes to him, her drunkard patriarch. but we’re queer, remember - we’re not celebrating these straggot pieces of shit. we find identity in the feelings. we have all been MacColl’s character, finding wonder and hope and the chance to become who we want to be, and being given false promises by false starts. and if you’ll forgive me for entertaining MacGowan’s character’s bastard misogynist perspective for a second, we’ve all found ourselves having to defend our queer communities, having to stand by our old sluts on junk, even as doing so takes its toll and sometimes feels like a burden. those feelings happen. they are irrational, they are bad, and they happen. and a new day comes and we’re thankful we stood by. it’s a melodramatic broadway banger - we can find meaning in all places, even the ‘b*tch-wife’ slurrings of a misogynist

it’s that power that lets a queer reading of FONY stick the fucking landing. again i repeat myself, from a surface reading the ending is toxic as shit. but queer reading is in the feeling. this lament, this mournful lament, of misplaced hopes, of lost dreams, and a commitment to what we have, and looking forward despite unbearable challenge. you’d scream ‘leave him!’ to every straight MacColl in the world, that’s like, feminism 101 - but queer life is nothing if not complicated. the queer-read MacGowan isn’t a toxic gay lover. he is queer life itself. he took our dreams from us when we first found him, so it may appear. the hatred we feel inside, the emptiness, the pain, it’s all there with the phantasmic joy, the discovery, the love, the everything. and the band always keeps playing. straight MacColls returning to their straight MacGowans is stupid, but we don’t have a choice. our community is everything, our support is everything. it’s rough. it can almost kill you. but would any of us trade it for anything else? we are MacColls and MacGowans all at once - we are the ones with fragile hopes, we are the ones who damage it, and shepherd it still. we’re our own worst enemy and we’re all we have

when Shane MacGowan adapted the original lyrics of a lonely seafarer, he did not turn it into a queer song. in fact, he wrote a character yelling the f-slur. there is not a gramme of queercoding here. but exactly what is the difference between the actual faggots finding commonality in the villain songs penned to mock us, or old broadway songs that have nothing to do with us, and the yuletide song that actively hates us? fucking little, i would argue. queer celebration’s power is its ability to reconstrue. they call us faggot every month of the year with nary a second thought, and we spit it right back at them with reclamation and solidarity. we should do the same in december. we dance to the tune of their bigotry and we sing along at the top of our lungs. they are quietening down out of embarrassment - long may our party reign. FONY, a bigoted song, is a queer anthem because it has been made so. the madness. the love. the sadness. the dreams. that is queerness. and queer revolution is not giving one single, solitary shite about straight people’s discomfort about what the cheap, lousy faggots choose to celebrate. the way the ending instrumental tapers off into beautiful emotion - the straights have abandoned it: that feeling of love, that feeling of joy, that feeling belongs to us now

sing it like you would all queer songs. hold your friends close and celebrate them. love everyone around you. and when the naughty word comes around, scream it

[flintandpyrite]

Dancing in the aisles at Shane Macgowan’s funeral: Fairytale of New York as sung by Glen Hansard and Lisa O’Neill.

[graveyarddirt]

Fairytale of New York

Glen Hansard, Lisa O'Neill, & The Pogues: Fairytale of New York

an old man said to me, won't see another one and then he sang a song

Glen Hansard, Lisa O'Neill, and The Pogues performed "Fairytale of New York" at Shane MacGowan's funeral.

[moodboardmix]

Shane Patrick Lysaght MacGowan (25 December 1957 – 30 November 2023)

Shane was a British-born Irish singer-songwriter and musician best known as the lead vocalist and primary lyricist of Celtic punk band the Pogues.

He also produced solo material and collaborated with artists including Joe Strummer, Nick Cave, Steve Earle, Sinéad O'Connor, Ronnie Drew, and Cruachan. 

Frequently noted for his exceptional songwriting ability as well as his heavy alcohol and drug use, MacGowan was described by The New York Times as "a titanically destructive personality and a master songsmith whose lyrics painted vivid portraits of the underbelly of Irish immigrant life.”

Rest in Power.

The band and Shane’s widow, Victoria Mary Clarke, back campaign to finally try and get The Pogues Christmas classic ‘Fairytale of New York’ to number one.

The 7” single is available to pre-order now and All profits from vinyl sales to benefit Dublin Simon Community - a charity loved and supported by Shane and Victoria.

For more details visit www.dubsimon.ie

Charity Number CHY 5963

The Pogues - Fairytale Of New York (Official Video)

[fraterrisus]

Not a dry eye in the house, you'd have to say.

[admiralgiggles]

[petermorwood]

Warning: the lyrics include rough language, drug reference and slurs.

*****

Yet it often seems that this is THE Christmas song for Britain and Ireland, and the Season hasn’t officially begun until it’s heard on a playlist in a mall, shop, pub, whatever.

There’s no treacle or schmaltz here. Just bitterness, sweetness...

And, ultimately, hope.

So happy Christmas I love you baby I can see a better time When all our dreams come true...

... Can't make it all alone I've built my dreams around you.

Have a good winter-festival-of-your-preference, everyone.

RIP, Kirsty.