The Pogues are one of the great live acts of our time, but their concerts have been poorly documented on record. Streams of Whiskey is a re-release of a bootleg, Live on Rain Street, from a 1991 show in Switzerland. Typical for a bootleg, the sound is terrible and the performance is rough. The Pogues, who are planning an "official" live album from their reunion tour, are asking fans not to buy this: they weren't consulted on the release and aren't happy with the quality.
If you're not already familiar with the classic 80s punk band, the Pogues are hard to define. Creating their sound on traditional Irish instruments, they rocked harder and played wilder shows with tin whistle and accordion than most of their guitar-trashing contemporaries. The band played tight and floor-pounding music, yet Shane MacGowan, the wrecked but strangely babyfaced singer, was an increasingly erratic performer. Rightly called one of the great modern Irish lyricists-- writing about the low and downtrodden with uncommon eloquence-- MacGowan would play concerts too plowed to sing his own words. He was notorious for wandering off-stage to care for his various addictions, and at a Chicago concert with the Popes last year, he even threw up on stage! A more melodramatic artist would turn this self-destruction into performance art, but for MacGowan it's just who he is: there's nothing romantic about it-- especially when the audience fights over his vomit-streaked towels, as they did at that Popes gig.
Streams of Whiskey takes the subtleties and peculiar genius of the Pogues and smashes them into a big loud mess. The concert took place after Hell's Ditch, the last album MacGowan made with the band, and the fourteen songs cover all of their records together. They start with exciting performances of "Streams of Whiskey," "If I Should Fall from Grace with God," and a tight reading of "Sally MacLennane." It's also interesting to hear Philip Chevron take the vocals on his song "Thousands Are Sailing" (MacGowan sings it on the original)-- his singing is more earnest and heartfelt. MacGowan's own vocals get progressively worse throughout the show; he hacks out "Dirty Old Town" like phlegm from his lungs, and the otherwise terrific lyrics to "The Sickbed of Cuchulainn" just slur together.
The poor quality of the album keeps even the best numbers from living up to the studio versions. Now that this is packaged as a real release instead of a bootleg, it comes off as a substandard product. The mix is incompetent, for starters: Terry Woods' vocals are cut off on "Young Ted of the Hill," and on songs like "The Sunny Side of the Street," MacGowan's singing and Spider Stacey's tin whistle come through loud and clear (with every bum note on display) while the rest of the band is stuck in a murk. To add insult to injury, MacGowan's name is even misspelled on the cover.
This would deserve a worse rating, except that ultimately, it's too damn much fun. This was obviously a great concert and everyone is having a blast. And no matter how sloppy MacGowan gets, he's still a hell of a frontman. His stuporous singing and the farting horn sounds on "Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah" don't stop the song from rocking. From the title track through "Fiesta," the band is unrelenting, and it sounds like you're listening from the second row, mashed in by hundreds of screaming fans. This may not be an essential album, but it's a great souvenir for the hardcore fans. Everyone else should wait for the real live album, just like the Pogues want you to.
