Shane MacGowan on the Pogues, his ‘death wish’ and his sideline in erotic art
Shane MacGowan pictured on stage at the National Concert Hall on the occasion of his 60th birthday
To say I’m excited is an understatement. Shane MacGowan, the reclusive former Pogue, has agreed to an interview. MacGowan has not talked to a British newspaper for 10 years and there is so much to ask him, not least how he is still alive. MacGowan, a brilliant lyricist and songwriter at his peak, drank and drugged himself to the point of destruction 40-odd years ago. Fans have feared for news of the inevitable ever since. But amazingly he’s still with us, living in Ireland with his journalist wife, Victoria Mary Clarke, and about to publish a gigantic book of his art, handwritten lyrics and school essays. Dublin, here I come!
A few days before the interview, I receive a message from Victoria. “If you can be here for a few days, you will have more of a chance of getting him in a good mood!” Ah. MacGowan is almost as famous for his irascibility as for his music. A few days in Dublin sounds lovely, but impractical. I apologise to Victoria, and tell her I can only do the Friday as arranged.
