As I mentioned in the preamble to this list, I started working at our small town’s 7-Eleven store in the spring of 1993 and due to this job and some of the people I met working there, I often consider the summer of that year one of my most memorable ever. Specifically, in terms of this post, there was a trio of young ladies that were hired at the same time and shortly after my own start date at the store. I worked many overnight shifts with either Tori, Michelle, or Heather and got to know them over late night and early morning conversations. They were all only in my life for a short while and though I don’t even remember any of their last names and couldn’t tell you what any of them are doing now, they all left their mark.
Heather, for instance, was hilarious, had a big smile, and was always jokingly threatening to poke my eyes out. But most importantly for this post, she and I shared similar tastes in music. She was the one that loaned me a cassette copy of the album that to this day is my favourite of 1991: Lowest of the Low’s “Shakespeare my butt”. That summer, though, she was obsessed with this new band out of Ireland called The Cranberries. She described them as jangly, like early R.E.M., but with tinges of celtic mysticism, and with a female front woman that smacked softly of Sinéad O’Connor.
Heather offered to lend me a copy of the band’s debut CD, “Everybody else is doing it, so why can’t we?”, but for various reasons, this never came to pass. However, after we both headed off to our separate universities in the fall, the name stuck with me, especially after I started hearing the song “Linger” and seeing its video all over the place. I ended up ordering a copy of that debut CD as one of my 10 for a penny BMG introductory offer orders and it was here that I first heard our song for today.
“Dreams” was actually issued as an advance single to the debut album in late 1992 but then, was reissued again in 1994 to lap up all the popularity garnered them by “Linger”. It did manage a bit more sales the second go-around but nowhere near that of the lofty second single, which I consider tragic, given that it is a far more superior track. It is a crashing, flailing, and driving number. It embodies the flutter rush of new and young love, all full of hope and happiness.
“I know I felt like this before
But now I’m feeling it even more
Because it came from you”
It is the one song on the album that I could listen to all day long. It begs loud volumes and full attention. And though I never knew this song at the time, it always manages to transport me back to that summer and brings a smile.
For the rest of the Best tunes of 1993 list, click here.
(Vinyl Love is a series of posts that quite simply lists, describes, and displays the pieces in my growing vinyl collection. You can bet that each record was given a spin during the drafting of each corresponding post.)
Artist: The Cranberries Album Title: No need to argue Year released: 1994 Year reissued: 2020 Details: 2 x LP, 25th anniversary, limited edition, clear vinyl, gatefold sleeve, essay printed on inner sleeves, bonus tracks
The skinny: I’d been wanting to add this record to my collection for many years now but the only pressing that seemed to be readily available was the one by Plain Records that by all accounts, is subpar at best. Then, The Cranberries’ debut album, “Everybody else is doing it, so why can’t we?“, was reissued in 2018 for its 25th anniversary (which I bought) and so I figured if I could just be patient, a 25th anniversary reissue of “No need to argue” would soon follow. And this release is definitely worth waiting for. The sound and the packaging is impeccable, the album proper pressed across three sides and some bonus tracks included on the fourth side. My wife Victoria and I were both fans of the album back when it was originally released. Of course, we were both quite young back then and were still getting to know each other but we had this album in common. When I lost interest after “No need to argue”, Victoria continued to follow them. However, she’s yet to listen to the record with me since I got it last fall because she is haunted by how frontwoman Dolores O’Riordan passed a couple years ago. But maybe soon…
Though it’s likely they didn’t actually invent the whole Celtic folk punk genre, The Pogues certainly popularized it, inspiring a whole boatload of next generation musicians to form bands like Flogging Molly, The Dropkick Murphys, and The Mahones. Interesting, then, that the group was formed in London, rather than Dublin, and only ever included two Irish born members in their large and rotating contingent.
Getting started in 1982 with original members Shane MacGowan, Spider Stacy, and Jem Finer, their name evolved out of an anglicisation of ‘póg mo thóin’, celtic for ‘kiss my arse’. The Pogues released a total of seven studio albums before calling it quits in 1996. However, for many, there’s only two albums in their catalogue (their second and third) that really mattered and between those two, the debate rages on over which is the superior.
For me, “If I should fall from grace with god” only just wins out over “Rum sodomy and the lash” and it is the mere presence of one great, transcendent song that will surely be discussed a little later that does the trick. Both albums are solid and complete albums. Where “Rum” is slightly more focused on the Celtic folk punk sound, however, “If I should fall from grace” branches out quite a bit more, dabbling and cavorting around the world of music. Many of the band’s contingent have also pointed to this album as their favourite and best, agreeing that nowhere else were they as on their game. And it’s true that as varied as the songs are across the track listing, nothing feels amiss or disjointed. An amazing feat considering the varied sounds and instrumentation that make up its whole and the contributions that included an additional eight musicians to the eight players that made up the band at that particular time.
There are fifteen tracks in total on “If I should fall from grace with god” from which I could have chosen my three picks for you, and one was a given, leaving me two. It was an onerous task but I perservered. You’re welcome.
“If I should fall from grace with god”: From what I’ve read, the title track on the album was originally recorded for the “Straight to hell” soundtrack, albeit at a slower speed. I’ve never heard it but don’t think I’d want to. The pace of the version on the album seems perfect to me, a rousing bar number that feels precariously close to shambles. And that’s the beauty of The Pogues, especially on this album, where the musicianship is so tight it feels loose and free. And I feel a lot of the credit has to go to the frontman at the time, the notorious Shane MacGowan, a deceptively great songwriter whose growling and screaming vocals create an energy all of their own. The rest of The Pogues’ cast can only help but follow along, navigating such speeds by the seats of their pants. “If I’m buried ‘neath the sod but the angels won’t receive me, let me go, boys.” Indeed, Shane, indeed.
“Thousands are sailing”: Starts off haunting with a pluck on the banjo and a hollow, echoing flute, sounding like they’re being played by the ghosts in the profound depths of the coffin ship’s hull. The music gets more spritely from there, gentle on the verses, just enough to urge MacGowan along with accordion melodies and incidental drumming, but picks up substantially at the choruses, drumming heavy handed and accordion, mandolin, and banjo becoming a hootenanny, almost drowning out the singing. Phil Chevron’s words as sung by MacGowan, though, never stray from the heartbreak, sowing the tale of thousands of Irish immigrants and of those who never actually survived the trip to the US shores. “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.”
“Fairytale of New York”: Not only is this now considered one of the all-time great Christmas tunes, ranking up there with Nat King Cole’s iconic “Christmas song”, Bing Crosby’s ubiquitous “Little Drummer Boy” duet with David Bowie, and Band Aid’s fundraising theme “Do they know it’s Christmas time”, but it’s also one of my all-time favourite Pogues tunes. At it’s heart, it’s a story of love that’s lost and found again on Christmas day, all brought to life by the excellent imagery of characters created in the juxtaposition of the rough and raucous voice of Shane MacGowan against the beautiful pipes of guest vocalist Kirsty MacColl. Her call and response banter, matching MacGowan’s snarl and rasp with just the right degree of attitude and defiance, really makes this song the classic that it is. Her disillusioned muse ‘character’ holds nothing back, even the love that she unbelievable still feels for the character of her drunken partner in MacGowan. The lyrics are grittier here than you would normally expect from a heartwarming Christmas tune but these just make the softer moments all the more mind blowing. Witness below:
Kirsty: You took my dreams from me When I first found you…
Shane: I kept them with me babe I put them with my own Can’t make it all alone I’ve built my dreams around you
Indeed, my wife Victoria loved these lyrics and the sentiment of building your dreams around someone you love so much that she insisted we work them into our own wedding vows almost 10 years ago. Who was I to argue?
In case you missed them, here are the previous albums in this list:
My (life in) music lists 