“I could have been someone.”
“Well, so could anyone.”
While half the world bathes in the warm glow of seasonal sentimentality, this bitter couplet is a reminder that Christmas is also a time of sozzlement, recrimination and reconciliation. “Fairytale of New York”, the 1987 hit single from The Pogues with Kirsty MacColl, is the Christmas song for people who hate Christmas songs, a swaying, slurring singalong hit whose degenerate charm and stirring melody have made it an enduring seasonal fixture on radio playlists and in karaoke bars. It has also become increasingly controversial because of its use of a particular epithet.
The song was two years in the making. The Pogues were in their pomp and were recording their album If I Should Fall from Grace with God. Singer Shane MacGowan and fellow Pogue Jem Finer had for some while been tossing around an idea for a Christmas song until they eventually settled on the tale of a man of Irish heritage spending Christmas Eve in a New York drunk tank. The title came from JP Donleavy’s novel of the same name that Finer was reading.
“Fairytale of New York” was first conceived as a duet between MacGowan and Pogues bassist Cait O’Riordan. In an early demo of the song, the lyrics are dramatically different (and often indecipherable); O’Riordan sounds unconfident, while MacGowan simply disappears towards the end – it’s not hard to imagine him staggering away from the microphone for a lie-down. Following O’Riordan’s departure from the band, the female part was taken by Kirsty MacColl. This was a masterstroke: MacColl gives exactly the right mix of retribution and regret. The two vocal parts were recorded separately, creating a crackling exchange between two singers who never actually met during the recording sessions.
The lyrics are sometimes a puzzle. Our man is in a cell with a fellow inebriate; then he imagines, or dreams, or remembers, arguments and conversations with his former lover. She reminds him, “You promised me Broadway was waiting for me.” Perhaps MacGowan or Finer had been overdoing the sherry when they came up with the line “And the boys from the NYPD choir were singing ‘Galway Bay’”; there was never any such thing as the NYPD choir (for the video, the NYPD pipe band was hired, and plied with drink).
Then come the insults, delivered by MacColl with the kind of relish unlikely to be found in a Christmas hamper: “You scumbag, you maggot, you cheap lousy faggot. Happy Christmas your arse, I pray God it’s our last.”
It wasn’t long before the BBC was taking exception to both “faggot” and “arse” and beeping them out. Later, under pressure from listeners, it relented. But over the years the “f” word has become troublesome. In its defence is the fact that the words come from the mouth of a character in a torrid musical mini-drama. No one would blink at such an exchange between two dissolute characters on an off-Broadway stage. But then again, popular songs are consumed differently, and nuance is lost on the radio or in the supermarket.
MacColl had reservations: soon after its release, in live performance, she was changing the line to “You’re cheap and you’re haggard”. Subsequent versions by other artists have also used “haggard”, as well as “blagger” and, quaintly, “blackguard”. The word certainly rankles with LGBT listeners: an online poll last year of readers of Pink News asked, “Should Christmas songs include the word ‘faggot’?” Sixty two per cent of those who responded said, “No.”
The song reached number two in the UK, pipped by the Pet Shop Boys’ “Always on My Mind”, and has returned to the charts frequently ever since. Cover versions have been variable; it’s a popular choice among singers of Irish and other non-English ancestry. Ronan Keating and Máire Brennan (“haggard”) failed dismally to capture the song’s low-life allure. Christy Moore (“faggot”) juggled the verses in a brilliant solo rendition that highlights the song’s redemptive qualities. KT Tunstall and Ed Harcourt (“blagger”) delivered it with bluster and gusto. On BBC Radio 1’s Live Lounge in 2017, Ed Sheeran and Anne-Marie (“blagger”) made it far too pretty, and, unforgivably, segued into “Jingle Bells”. Johnny Logan (“faggot”) has recorded powerful, emotive performances. Swedish punks Future Idiots (“faggot”) went full throttle in a punk-by-numbers version.
After December 2000, when MacColl was killed by a speedboat in Mexico, her part in the song at Pogues shows was taken by various singers, including Sinéad O’Connor, Katie Melua and Ella Finer, daughter of Jem (all of whom stuck with “faggot”). Their renditions have been faithful, honourable and spirited, but none can match the vituperative, redemptive, romantic beauty of that original exchange between MacColl and MacGowan.
Do you have any personal memories of ‘Fairtyale of New York’? Should singers amend its lyrics? Let us know in the comments below
‘The Life of a Song Volume 2: The stories behind 50 more of the world’s best-loved songs’, edited by David Cheal and Jan Dalley, is published by Brewer’s
Music credits: WM UK; UMOD (Universal Music On Demand); Columbia; Virgin UK; TELAMO/WM Germany; Pacific Ridge Records
Picture credit: Brian Rasic/Getty Images