Shane MacGowan porcelain miniature (9") by Stephen Dee

Wall painting in the "Factory" club, Helsinki, Finland

The last page of "Hellblazer: Dangerous Habits" comic book
(click on the picture to enlarge it a bit)

"Hellblazer: Rake at the Gates of Hell" comic book named after the Pogues song

Shane MacGowan eating The Beach Boys "Greatest Hits"; seen on the wall of the Colony Club

Irish bar in Puerto Rico, Gran Canaria, named after the Pogues frontman

The portrait of Shane MacGowan as Che Guevara

Shane MacGowan & The Nipple Erectors

(as featured at "We Love 77", an exhibition of 77 paintings
by artist duo Sardine & Tobleroni, chronicling the evolution of punk rock)

Shane MacGowan street art in Stockholm
(photo by svennevenn, originally uploaded to Flickr)

Homage to "Fairytale Of New York" in Japanese comics form
(click on the picture to enlarge it)
(© Fred Gallagher, published at

Shane MacGowan’s image by Kevin Bohan on a wall in Adair Lane, Dublin.
(The Icon Factory, an artists’ co-operative, has created images of famous Irish cultural icons and installed them on blank walls in some back streets of Dublin’s Temple Bar to create tourists trails known as Icon Walks.)
(photo by The Icon Factory, originally uploaded to their Facebook)

Yeti: Shane MacGowan

Maybe it was gigging with Shane in The Boogaloo, his favourite boozer, which inspired the British band Yeti to pen a song in his honour, bearing his name. The song can be found on the album "The Legend of Yeti Gonzales". The Guardian has brought an exclusive free download of the track.

Shane, Shane, Shane, MacGowan!
Hissing like a big bad snake
He's Shane MacGowan!
He's Shane MacGowan!

So put another log on the fire,
Shane's gonna get much higher
He's Shane MacGowan!

1, 2, 3, 4,
Oh my lord there's a knock on the door!
It's Shane!
He's lean again!

So put another log on the fire,
Shane's gonna get much higher
He's Shane MacGowan!
Big fat Shane.
Shane, Shane, Shane, MacGowan!

Then he put on a stone top hat,
And was sick all over the cat!
He took one more
And he's down on the floor
But he 'aint going out like that!
He's Shane MacGowan!
He's Shane MacGowan!

So put another log on the fire,
Shane's gonna get much higher
He's Shane MacGowan!
5, 6, 7, 8,
It takes 9 lives just to stay awake
He's Shane,
And he's lean again!

He's Shane MacGowan!
He's Shane MacGowan!

So put another log on the fire,
Shane's gonna get much higher
He's Shane MacGowan!
Big fat Shane.
Shane, Shane, Shane, MacGowan!
Big fat Shane.
Shane, Shane, Shane, MacGowan!

D.B.Cox: Good Saint Shane

A poem by D.B. Cox, a blues musician/writer from South Carolina.

— for Shane McGowan

holding tight
to a mic stand
cigarette smoke
from a shaky
right hand
pushing perfect songs
past a death-rattle
good saint shane
toward grace
in the face
of the “everyday”
half-burnt brain cells
still flaring
across that magic
black box
half-cocked laugh
like static
from a broken radio
rock & roll water walker
playing out
the implications
of his holy part–
peter pan poet

Daniel McDonagh: A Drink with Shane MacGowan

I found myself in Bairds Bar
with a Guinness in my hand
I love the taste of the Irish stout,
as did my old man
Out on the streets of the Gallowgate,
the rain forever fell
As it washed away the lonely days
and the sins of all the world.

The pictures that hung on Bairds Bar wall
were of the bhoys in emerald green
Banners hung of Celtic brake clubs
and memories of Jock Stein
And sitting in the corner
singing the ‘Broad Majestic Shannon’
Was a man wearing a Celtic scarf
by the name of Shane MacGowan.

I went to the bar and bought him a pint
and sat down by his side
He was smoking Embassy Regal
and drinking a flagon of cheap red wine,
He was up in dear old Glasgow
to pay a visit to Paradise
And to one day write a song about
the bhoys in green & white.

And Pádraig Mór strapped on his guitar
and stood there on the stage
Sang a song about Raymond McCreesh
and Irish heroes of bygone days,
Shane MacGowan, he stamped his feet
to the tunes that Pádraig played
Wrapped in his Celtic scarf and Celtic flag
shouting for the ‘Boys of the Old Brigade.’

The pints were flowing and the whiskey was flowing
plus a bottle or two of wine
Shane MacGowan sat in his corner,
were Joyce, Heaney and Yeats he rhymed,
Into the pub walked Bertie Auld,
and he sang us the ‘Celtic Song’
Were MacGowan, he finished a pint of ale,
and he gladly sang along.

And as midnight came, and outside it still rained,
it was time for me to go,
I finished my pint of Guinness
and the Bairds Bar crowd, they did roar,
As Shane MacGowan, he took to the stage
with microphone in hand,
Cursing the devil in hell, he let out a yell,
and sang to us, ‘God Save Ireland’.

Sept 8th 2005

Mojo Nixon: Shane's Dentist

Minimalist song penned by the American musician Mojo Nixon, dealing with what the title suggests. It can be found on Mojo Nixon's album "Otis". The lyrics go like this (and are repeated over and over):

Shane's dentist don't work too hard, always at the pub
Shane says he ain't comin' back 'til they're down to a nub

You can listen to the song at Youtube.

Ruth Newman: Twisted Wing 

The Pogues mentioned in a British psychological thriller - their song is on the jukebox in a student bar at Cambridge college the night of a bestial murder...

p. 54-55:

A drunken game of pool was going on at the far end of the bar; at the near end, the Pogues’ “Fairytale of New York” was selected on the jukebox for the fifth time that night, and the students joined in raucously, shouting out lines about scumbags and maggots.
Olivia felt some masochistic need to hear Amanda actually say her name, but her self-preservation instincts kicked in, and she silently backed away. From the bar, she heard voices singing about building dreams around other people.

A Pogue play

At least "The Age", Melbourne online newspaper, reported about it. Did the performance really take place? Was it a smashing success? That remains shrouded in mystery...

Sticky Carpet
June 13 2003
By Patrick Donovan
The Age

A Pogue play
Local playwright Brendan Delaney presents a one-man play about the unique Shane MacGowan at the Celtic Club at 4pm and 8pm tomorrow. We assume it's taken Delaney some time to perfect that renowned slur. Tickets at the door, or book on 9670 6472.

© Zuzana


© unknown unless stated otherwise