Irlands fortabte søn

Så hvor meget fattigere ville december ikke være uden The Pogues’ varmt sejlende musik og punkede anarki? Læg dertil Shane MacGowan’s besjælede ord, der sender sange som band afsted på bredest tænkelige vingefang.

Shane MacGowan, der døde sidste år, er naturligvis savnet nu, som han de facto var det de sidste 20-30 år af sit liv, hvor han grundet en ekstrem livsstil ikke længere var istand til at sejle sit unikke kongeskib af et lyrisk talent. Måske den kæntrende slagside var prisen for en så anderledes speciel vision og sans for at formidle den?

Musikken står under alle omstændigheder indspillet og kan nydes nu og i morgen. Man kan så nemt ønske sig at have hørt hvilke klassikere MacGowan kunne have begået de sidste 30 år af sit liv, hvor han ikke længere kunne skrive, men det er nok at misse pointen og præmisserne for denne uregerlige ener?

Her istedet ‘Sally MacLennane’, en af de mange forbløffende store sange, han nåede at servere os. Apropos at servere, så var det først i indeværende år det gik op for denne side, at titlen på sangen ikke er nogen irsk kvinde med grønne øjne, men istedet navnet på et ølmærke. Naturligvis. Det bliver sangens liv-og-død-fortælling dog overhovedet ikke dårligere af…

Sally MacLennane

Well, Jimmy played harmonica in the pub where I was born
He played it from the night time to the peaceful early morn
He soothed the souls of psychos and the men who had the horn
And they all looked very happy in the morning

Now Jimmy didn’t like his place in this world of ours
Where the elephant man broke strong men’s necks
When he’d had too many Powers
So sad to see the grieving of the people that I’m leaving
And he took the road for God knows in the morning

We walked him to the station in the rain
We kissed him as we put him on the train
And we sang him a song of times long gone
Though we knew that we’d be seeing him again

Sad to say I must be on my way
So buy me beer and whiskey ’cause I’m going far away (far away)
I’d like to think of me returning when I can
To the greatest little boozer and to Sally MacLennane

The years passed by the times had changed I grew to be a man
I learned to love the virtues of sweet Sally MacLennane
I took the jeers and drank the beers and crawled back home at dawn
And ended up a barman in the morning

I played the pump and took the hump and watered whiskey down
I talked of whores and horses to the men who drank the brown
I heard them say that Jimmy’s making money far away
And some people left for heaven without warning

We walked him to the station in the rain
We kissed him as we put him on the train
And we sang him a song of times long gone
Though we knew that we’d be seeing him again

Sad to say I must be on my way
So buy me beer and whiskey ’cause I’m going far away (far away)
I’d like to think of me returning when I can
To the greatest little boozer and to Sally MacLennane

When Jimmy came back home, he was surprised that they were gone
He asked me all the details of the train that they went on
Some people they are scared to croak but Jimmy drank until he choked
And he took the road for heaven in the morning

We walked him to the station in the rain
And we kissed him as we put him on the train
And we sang him a song of times long gone
Though we knew that we’d be seeing him again

Sad to say I must be on my way
So buy me beer and whiskey ’cause I’m going far away (far away)
I’d like to think of me returning when I can
To the greatest little boozer and to Sally MacLennane

© Shane MacGowan/The Pogues

En tanke om “Irlands fortabte søn”

  1. Sally MacLennane er også navnet på en irsk stout, som flere amerikanske mikrobryggerier har lavet udgaver af.

    Sally MacLennane Dry Stout fra Redlight Brewery

    Mig bekendt er der ikke en irsk udgave — og min fornemmelse er, at denne stout faktisk er en hyldest til sangen, ikke omvendt. En udgave af opskriften kan ses på http://www.poguetry.com/sallymacstout.htm.

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