Bookmakernes penge vil have været på, at det var The Pogues’ skibsforlis af en frontmand Shane MacGowan, der skulle tage billetten først. Men nej, bandets guitarist Phil Chevron – jeg stødte selv først på ham i 1978, via hans irske punkband The Radiators From Space – måtte i dag gå bort efter længere tids hård sygdom. Her en drøm af en Amerika-sang han begik til The Pogues-albummet If I Should Fall from Grace with God. Det er naturligvis MacGowan der synger ud her…
The island it is silent now
But the ghosts still haunt the waves
And the torch lights up a famished man
Who fortune could not save
Did you work upon the railroad
Did you rid the streets of crime
Were your dollars from the white house
Were they from the five and dime
Did the old songs taunt or cheer you
And did they still make you cry
Did you count the months and years
Or did your teardrops quickly dry
Ah, no, says he, ’twas not to be
On a coffin ship I came here
And I never even got so far
That they could change my name
Thousands are sailing
Across the western ocean
To a land of opportunity
That some of them will never see
Fortune prevailing
Across the western ocean
Their bellies full
Their spirits free
They’ll break the chains of poverty
And they’ll dance
In manhattan’s desert twilight
In the death of afternoon
We stepped hand in hand on broadway
Like the first man on the moon
And “the blackbird” broke the silence
As you whistled it so sweet
And in brendan behan’s footsteps
I danced up and down the street
Then we said goodnight to broadway
Giving it our best regards
Tipped our hats to mister cohen
Dear old times square’s favorite bard
Then we raised a glass to jfk
And a dozen more besides
When I got back to my empty room
I suppose I must have cried
Thousands are sailing
Again across the ocean
Where the hand of opportunity
Draws tickets in a lottery
Postcards we’re mailing
Of sky-blue skies and oceans
From rooms the daylight never sees
Where lights don’t glow on christmas trees
But we dance to the music
And we dance
Thousands are sailing
Across the western ocean
Where the hand of opportunity
Draws tickets in a lottery
Where e’er we go we celebrate
The land that makes us refugees
From fear of priests with empty plates
From guilt and weeping effigies
And we dance…
© Phil Chevron
Og så ikke et ord om De Gyldne Løver, som The Pogues og The Dubliners og talrige andre navne fra Irland (og længere væk) på det mest skamløse har plagieret og på kluntet vis prøvet at oversætte til en irsk kontekst helt uden nogen fornemmelse for hvad det vil sige at være vendelbo.
Som årene er gået er MacGowan ikke ligefrem blevet hverken skarpere eller mere tilstedeværende i de sange han slingrer igennem. Men back in the day, da Shane var kreativ drivkraft i The Pogues – ja, det er millioner af genstande siden – var der i hans sang en poesi, længsel og tilstedeværelse af liv, som var uovertruffen indenfor bandets svære genre, som så forfærdelig nemt drukner i egen fodformede tradition.
Men jeg husker et tv-program, hvor Phil Chevron sang den selv (man hørte ikke det hele), og den var faktisk bedre med ham. Selv om jeg godt kan lide The Pogues fra deres storhedstid, kan jeg også blive træt af MacGowans grødede stemme.