CD Odyssey Disc 1531: The Popes

Welcome back to the CD Odyssey, where since 2009 I have been reviewing every CD in my collection, never stopping until I’m done. For rules on how this works, see the sidebar. For the latest entry, just keep reading.

Disc 1531 is….  Outlaw Heaven

Artist: The Popes (featuring Shane MacGowan)

Year of Release: 2009

What’s up with the Cover? Death rides a pale horse. In this case, it appears that death may have acquired his pale horse from this cowboy. Having taken the soul of some cowboy who was out riding death realizes, “hey, this is a quality horse,” and decided to keep it.

Or maybe the reverse is true, and this guy is a horse thief, and he has just realized to his horror he has just stolen from the wrong entity as death leaps up behind him with a bone-rattling “surprise!” and then scythes his soul out of his body and takes the reins.

Or maybe there’s no conflict at all, just someone being neighbourly. Like Death has lost his pale horse and this cowboy is giving him a lift to his next appointment to harvest souls.

How I Came To Know It: I saw this in a bargain bin at now-closed local record store Lyle’s Place many years ago. I had a record by Shane MacGowan and the Popes already and assumed this was another of their records I just hadn’t heard of. Which was only partially true, as it turns out.

How It Stacks Up: I have three studio albums by the Popes, and one ‘best of’ compilation. ‘Best Of” records don’t stack up, but of the three studio records, “Outlaw Heaven” finishes a distant third. Sorry, Popes.

Ratings: 2 stars

When Shane MacGowan left the Pogues he formed a band called “the Popes” who put out a few killer records in the mid-nineties with a similar Celtic folk/rock bent. “Outlaw Heaven” is not one of these albums.

Instead, this is a later version of the band, two iterations removed from the glory days with MacGowan. I was initially confused by this, buying it on the assumption one Popes album is much like another. When the singing began, I wondered why Shane MacGowan sounded so raspy. It was like he was trying to impersonate Bruce Springsteen, or if maybe his vocals had just changed over the years, like later Leonard Cohen. He also sounded suspiciously sober and easy to understand.

All of this was because it wasn’t Shane MacGowan at all, but Popes band leader and front man Paul “Maddog” McGuinness. The album cover notes that it will “feature” Shane MacGowan, but in this case that means he brings guest vocals to three of the 13 tracks only. This is not strictly false advertising, but it does smack a bit of dubious marketing.

Anyway, back to the Popes as they appear here. McGuinness is a fine enough singer, although don’t expect MacGowan’s trademark bawl. Maddog is more of a Joe Cocker style belter, crossed with classic rock and roll. The record has a number of songs that have that classic rock feel. Unfortunately, it is less “inspires a stadium of thousands” and more “bar band in the background” level stuff.

Negatively reinforcing this feel are a number of songs that start out with promise but end with repetitive riffs that go on far too long. The title track is the worst offender, which just cycles around as the band names various (now dead) musical influences. There are plenty of these songs that feel like the Popes weren’t sure how they wanted them to end. I assume they all looked around the studio at each other until someone finally offered the vague notion of “rocking out” and everyone nodded.

This record has the lyrical sway of earlier Popes records, but without quite enough sway, and the Celtic rock fury of the Dropkick Murphys, but without quite enough fury. The musicianship is fine, but the production doesn’t let anything stand out strongly.

In the end, “Outlaw Heaven” wasn’t terrible, it was just OK in a boring kind of way. I would be fine hearing it in the background while I’m having brunch, but I’m never going to put this record on in place of any number of records (including other Popes records) that fill the same musical niche in my collection.

And so, even as the cowboy on the cover shuffles off his mortal coil, I will shuffle this record out of my collection. And it won’t be one of those tender farewells where I gush and tearfully hope it finds love somewhere else. More of a cordial handshake and a “see ya around”.

Best tracks: Let the Bells Ring Out

CD Odyssey Disc 925: Shane MacGowan and the Popes

I spent Friday getting a new tattoo (or at least half of one) taking up the last available real estate on my arms in the process. It is only half done (colouring to come in December) but I already love it. Kudos to Leroy at Union Tattoo for another great piece of body art!

Now I just need to grow a third arm…

Disc 925 is….Crock of Gold

Artist: Shane MacGowan and the Popes

Year of Release: 1997

What’s up with the Cover? It is a painting done by frontman Shane MacGowan himself. The title is not provided but I call it “Four Homeless Leprechauns”. Kudos to MacGowan for trying other art forms, but this picture doesn’t work for me.

How I Came To Know It: When Shane MacGowan left the Pogues I did too (they weren’t the same without him) and I assumed he would drift off into obscurity. Then many years later my friend Greg played a song by “Shane MacGowan and the Popes” and I realized he’d resurfaced. This particular album has eluded me for years but I found a used copy out of the blue at a local record store a couple of months ago. Please keep selling off your music collection, digital people!

How It Stacks Up:  I have both studio albums by Shane MacGowan and the Popes as well as a best of/rarities collection. I also have a Popes album where MacGowan is no longer a full time member of the band, but appears on three tracks. Of the three studio albums, I put “Crock of Gold” second. The ‘best of’ album doesn’t stack up, as long time readers will know.

Ratings: 3 stars

“Crock of Gold” doesn’t live up to the lofty promise in its title, but it is nevertheless a good record. It’s more a crock of well-polished copper, which could’ve been a crock of silver if it had been a little more focused.

This is the second album that Shane MacGowan made with his new band the Popes, after he was turfed from the Pogues and while you can say what you want about what he’s like as a band mate, his talent is undeniable. Of the 17 tracks – more on that in a moment – MacGowan wrote or co-wrote all but five.

If you know the Pogues then you know the Popes, as MacGowan does not branch far from his roots on “Crock of Gold.” This is a collection of lilting Irish folk/rock songs that gently roll along like the swell of the Atlantic. There are few surprises, but that is OK because while the Popes may not switch it up much, they are very good at what they do. The band is tight and provide a lively backdrop upon which MacGowan can deliver his unique slurring style.

MacGowan is in fine form, by which I mean he sounds both brilliant and drunk in equal measure. He has always had the skill of sounding like he’s making it up as he goes along while keeping perfect time. It must be hard work to sound so perfectly casual. However, the age old problem of not being able to understand him half the time continues.

Many of the penny whistle and fiddle riffs providing colour for the songs sound very traditional, but it is pretty common practice in Irish folk music to throw in a bit of something old and I took no offence. On “Back in the County Hell” the tune is unmistakably “Me and Bobby McGee” and lest there be any doubt, MacGowan even sings a few lines right out of that song in the middle of it.

“B&I Ferry” channels some Clash-like reggae beats and “Ceilidh Cowboy” tries to add some western flare, but neither song really worked for me. Both felt like they were pressing too hard to be different amid a sea of very cohesive sound on the record.

That sea is pleasant but a bit too deep; “Crock of Gold” has 17 songs and a running time just shy of a full hour. The songs are all OK, but there are just too many of them. Musicians take heed; just because a CD can hold a lot of music isn’t an excuse to put more on it. This was a common problem in the nineties that more recent artists seem to have finally gotten over (maybe too over given the number of 30 minute records being released lately).

The album features three traditional songs, the best of which is “Spanish Lady,” a song about a man walking the streets of Dublin at midnight and catching a glimpse of a Spanish woman washing her hair by candlelight. I’m not sure what she was doing washing her hair at that hour, but the song makes you appreciate the moment.

Another favourite is “St. John of Gods” which features a character who goes around drunkenly telling everyone (including the courts) “F’ yez all”. At 7:17 this song goes on too long, and it’s impressive that it remains enjoyable throughout, despite spending a majority of the time telling you off. If you don’t like songs taking that long to tell someone off, well, you know what to do.

With six of the seventeen tracks also appearing on my “best of” compilation (including three of my top six listed below) I was sore-tested to give up on this record and clear up space, but there is enough other good stuff that I’m sticking with it for now.

Best tracks: Paddy Rolling Stone, Rock N’ Roll Paddy, Paddy Public Enemy No. 1, Lonesome Highway, Spanish Lady, St. John of Gods