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After creating the album Rum, Sodomy and the Lash, which put them on the map, people were expecting big things of The Pogues next release. Not a band known for their consistency or convention the follow up to such a worthy album could have been gone either way. However 1988s, If I Should Fall From Grace WIth God continued in the same vein as the preceding album and cemented their position as folk anarchists in the eyes of the drinking public.

One of the great bonuses of the Pogues work is that on top of that great punk-folk music are some of the best lyrics you will lay eyes on. Folk music is not normally reknowned for being the realm of literary achievement but Shane MacGowan again manages to deliver meaningful cultural messages and glorious in jokes with almost every line that he writes. Where as the previous album was very much a provincial affair, this album really takes wing and drags you to some far flung parts of the globe.

The title track kicks off, and this is the band playing the music that you associate with traditional Irish bands, banjos and accordians do the spade work with the snare drum shuffling away ten to the dozen. Even if you have never heard of the Pogues before, this is how most people imagine they should sound. The references to the sea, which are never far away on a Pogues album, provide the middle eight, and conjur up images of drowning men and burials at sea, and more than tip their hat to Emily Dickinsons poem 92.

If the opener is how you think they should sound then Turkish Song of the Damned is the total opposite. A hybrid of dark Turkish beats and Irish folk it is a brooding stomp, again with naval imagery, this time running parallel with Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner, before flipping into a celtic rock play out, sort of the musical equivilant of a kebab made by an Irish vendor in tPlymouth quay. Strange.

The best known of all Pogues songs appears on this album, arguably the only Christmas Song worth hearing, and still typically Pogues. Fairytale of New York is a duet between the late Kirsty MacColl (god bless her) and MacGowan, a bitter sweet love song of broken dreams and regrets. From its whistful piano start it builds to the most singalong chorus ever created in music via the usual accompaniment of banjo and whistles and this time also with strings. A Christmas song set in the harsh reality of the modern world does`nt sound like the most joyous of ways to tackle the subject but they managed to create one of the most individual

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