How an un-Christmassy Christmas song became The Christmas Song. And a lesson in creativity.

I was sitting in my favorite St. Louis pub, John D. McGurks, when I first heard it. A twenty-something guitarist from Ireland sang a tune with such heart and sincerity, it stirred my soul.

The rawness. The imagery. The slightest glimmer of hope and reconciliation. A drunk’s plea for a second (third, fourth, eighteenth?) chance. All of that stayed with me. When I woke the next day, fragments of the tune still danced in my head.

Problem was, I didn’t know the name of the song. Being the days before the interwebs, I headed down to the one and only Vintage Vinyl record store. Out of sheer desperation, I talked/sang what lyrics I could remember to the clerk. He made me perform it a few times, just for his own amusement, and then told me the song I was looking for was called “Fairytale of New York,” by the Pogues.

Diving through the bins, I lucked into the only copy of If I Should Fall from Grace with God and raced home. I dropped the needle onto Track Four, Side One. The piano intro felt every bit a Christmas standard. And then Shane MacGowan happened.

Now, as a full-fledged Gen Xer, Christmas meant being subjected to the inimitable smooth stylings of Frank Sinatra and countless velvety renditions of Christmas classics by Dean Martin and Mel Torme.

Shane MacGowan was none of those things. The speakers crackled with his unrefined, smoke and booze-cured voice. Such incredible character. Shane was mournful, sodden with regret. I sat there dumfounded, tears rolling down my cheeks. And that was before Kirsty MacColl joined in. Her sweetness belying the brutal counterpunch of her lyrics.

Doc Martens laced up, Fairytale of New York kicked sentimentality to the curb. An anti-Christmas punk song masterfully arranged as a traditional Irish jig.?I can't imagine the holiday season without it. I'm so thankful that I don't have to.

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The BBC did a wonderful one-hour program on the making of the Poques’ gift to Christmastime. It’s worth a watch. If for nothing else, it’s encouraging to witness the creative process take its time. In this day and age where automation and AI are completing tasks at blinding speeds, the BBC program slows it down and explores everything that went into Fairytale’s creation.

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Watching the program again, it reminded me of how the creating something-- anything-- is messy. ?There is no straight line from start to finish. All the detours are critical to birthing an idea. The program celebrates the contributions from everyone involved. And even calls out that bit of luck needed to take something good and transform it into something magical.

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“Fairytale of New York” was written over 1986 and 1987. Countless tinkering and new versions still couldn’t quite deliver the elusive magic. The original female lead was sung the band’s bassist, Cait O’Riordan. It’s not bad at all. But it wasn’t quite it.

Elvis Costello was replaced by producer Steve Lillywhite—the producer in the 80’s (U2, Simple Minds, XTC). Watching him revisit the song on the mixing board gives even more insight into how many things have to come into play to have an idea grow from good to great. At one point, Steve punches tracks in and out and you can hear instruments bleeding over the vocals. Unplanned, it adds to the live, gritty feel.

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On Spider Stacey’s signature tin whistle part, you can hear people talking in the background. Even the working title “Christmas in the Drunk Tank” yielded to the more poetic “Fairytale of New York” (an homage to the J.P. Dunleavy novel).

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Of course, Lillywhite’s biggest contribution was being married to Kirsty MacColl. At Shane’s request, Kirsty sang the lead. With pitch-perfect tartness, she rebuts Shane’s drunken pleas. The anti-Christmas song was complete. After watching the program, the song could easily be an ode to creativity. Of not giving up on a seemingly lost cause.

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Sadly, the music world lost Kirsty MacColl in December of 2000. And now Shane MacGowan has left us as well.

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I plan on celebrating them both by playing their intoxicating, achingly bittersweet carol many times this holiday season. And on December 25th, I invite you all to raise a glass with me and toast Shane MacGowan on what would have been his 66th birthday.

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