Customer Reviews

Rum Sodomy & Lash

5 star:		(45)
4 star:		(3)
3 star:		(2)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

The Pogues and the Mekons proved that punk was more attitude than anything. Just as the Mekons blended punk with country and produced something that was as edgy as anything that had come out before, so the Pogues, playing what on many levels seemed to be traditional Irish folks music. But unlike much Irish music (which I nonetheless love), there is no nostalgia at work here. There is no longing for a largely demised culture here, but traditional forms expressing contemporary experience. Moreover, the Pogues dealt with subject that more traditional Irish bands were have preferred to ignore: prostitution, dissipation (as opposed to mere drunkenness), and hopelessness. From first to last this album proclaims that life ain't pretty.

Although the Pogues were a great band down to every last member, the heart of the band was Shane MacGowan, who managed to convey a down-and-outer just this side of the DT's and death. His vocals drive every song he sings upon, and he is remarkable for the way he can sound utterly dissipated and yet still sing with remarkable emotion. Although he writes many of the album's songs, his finest moments are on songs written by others, such as their version of Ewan MacColl's "Dirty Old Town" and Eric Bogle's "The Band Played Waltzing Maltida." MacColl's version is lovely and only slightly melancholic, sounding almost more like a tin pan alley number than the haunted version that the Pogues would produce. MacGowan doesn't remake Eric Bogle's great anti-war song to the same extent, but the way he passionately tortures every syllable creates one of the most amazingly vocal performances on record. To this day, the Pogues's version of "And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda" remains my favorite version of that great song, as well as my favorite Shane MacGowan performance.

While MacGowan was the heart and soul of the Pogues, it truly was a great band, and not merely a showcase for MacGowan's remarkable vocal talents. He wasn't the only excellent singer in the band, as the remarkable performance of "I'm a Man You Don't Meet Everyday" by Cait O'Riordan, who ceased playing base for them after this album to marry the album's producer, Elvis Costello. While the Pogues may not match the better traditional bands in their instrumental prowess, they nonetheless stood alone in their depiction of the seamier side of life. And no traditional bad possessed a singer with the demonic passion of Shane MacGowan.

I'm on the fence as to whether this album or IF I SHOULD FALL FROM GRACE WITH GOD is my favorite Pogues album. I listen to both often. This one is a bit rawer and is less polished, and might therefore edge the other one, but then there are no epic masterpieces (except for "The Band Played Waltzing Maltida") on RUM, SODOMY, AND THE LASH to match "Fairytale of New York" or "Thousands are Sailing." I'll close by adding that the title of this album could very well be my favorite in the history of rock. The title, in fact, expresses perfectly the spirit of the album.

Too often, If I should Fall from Grace With God is at the top of many lists of Pogues fans, but their real masterpiece has to be their prior album, an album with a good mix of traditional Irish songs with a dose of the Pogues passion for punk, and some of Shane Macgowan's best originals.

Of Shane's original songs, The Sick Bed of Cuchulainn is a great opener, with the lyrics of a drunken Irishman (like Shane)and raw punk power. Shane gives one of his best vocal performances, speeding his vocal through such lines "And in the Euston Tavern/you screamed it was your shout/but they wouldn't give you service/so you kicked the windows out/they took you out into the street/and kicked you in the brains/so you walked back in through a bolted door and did it all again." Shane tells tales like a classic Irishman, but with the zest of punk rebel.

But the Pogues can be sad, as they weave their way through Shane's "Pair of Brown Eye's" or add spice to Eric Bogle's wartime tale "The Band Played Waltzing Matilda" where Shane tells the tale with such sincerity that he presents himself as the showman no one ever believed Shane could be with his reputation.

The Pogues have fun on a couple of songs too. Particularly joyful is the rendition of "The Gentleman Soldier," which with the Pogues having as much fun as they are, sounds more like a Monty Python skit in the making than a tradition Irish song, as Shane rushes his way through the songs two characters with such humor and glee.

Irish music fan, pogues fan, punk fan, or just a music fan will find something on this album that's a celebration of all great things about music.

This is the Pogues at their guns a-blaring, whiskey bearing best. From the sick bed to the battlefield and back, they put the "ire" back into Ireland with all the blood, guts and glory they can muster. This record perfectly captures the Pogues at the height of their powers.

For sordid woe, you can't top "Old Main Drag". "A Pair Of Brown Eyes" is one of the finest ballads Shane MacGowan has ever penned. Musically, lyrically & vocally he's in fine form here. Blazing instrumentals like "Wild Cats Of Kilkenny" & "Pistol For Paddy Garcia" go to show that The Pogues were far more than a backing band.

In terms of traditional folk, the likes of "Dirty Old Town" & "Gentlemen Soldier" are tossed into the mosh pit and spat out re-invented. The whole thing climaxes with probably the best recorded version of "Waltzing Matilda" since Tom Waits' nod on SMALL CHANGE.

If you're looking for something on par with IF I SHOULD FALL FROM THE GRACE OF GOD, lend an ear to this & their debut, RED ROSES FOR ME. Then it's time to sift through the ragged remains of HELL'S DITCH and PEACE & LOVE. Don't waste your money on the Best Of compilations, get this ROSES and FALL instead.

I'll try not to re-hash the other reviews.

If I had to describe this album in one word, it would be "depth." The only thing "punk-ish" on "Rum, Sodomy" is attitude, and even that is a stretch. While the Pogues' preceding and following albums feature more riotous songs, about half of this album are slow ballads/dirges. Fine by me-- the slower numbers really reveal the infinite beauty and majesty of the Pogues' music, both lyrically and sonically. While all of the slow songs are great, the pinacle has got to be A Pair Of Brown Eyes, which is to emotion what the Parthenon is to architecture. But "Rum, Sodomy" is most definitely not a one-hit wonder. And don't worry-- there are enough raucous bone-crunchers in here too.

Some fans might dislike this album for its less polished feel, as opposed to later Pogues albums. But anyone who prefers "Peace & Love," "Hell's Ditch" (decent albums) and "Pogue Mahone" to this album most likely prefer White Snake to Led Zeppelin, John Mayer to Bob Dylan, and N'Sync to Simon and Garfunkel... ok, that's a slight exaggeration, but you get the idea.

If any one album totally encapsulates the Pogues, this is definitely it.

This is by far their best album: The songwriting is top notch because Shane hasn't totally lost it yet; The cover choices are inspired; the band is playing at its tightest ramshackle best; and Elvis Costello's production is sympathetic without being obtrusive.

Sick Bed is my favorite song. Making an Irish epic hero into a drunken lout in contemporary London is brilliant, and contains some of Shane's best lyrics.

Scroll back up to the top of this page and put this in your shopping cart. Do it now!

a quote by Winston Churchill: "Don't tell me about British naval tradition; it's all rum, sodomy and the lash."

Buy the album and enjoy. Sally MacLanane is an amazing drinking song.

This is such a great album. I was lucky enough to find it in a record store and haven't seen it since, so I'm very greatful. Shane Macgowan is a true songwriting talent, and this album is no exception, with the opening "Sick Bed of Cuchhlainn" to "Sally Maclennane" and the fantastic cover of "The Band Played Waltzing Matilda" this entire cd rocks. There is one thing I will always remember about this album. While sitting in class one day I was really in the mood for this album, so I stuck it in the computer. The volume was low and I couldn't really hear it, so I started to turn it up, just so I could hear it better. It wasn't getting any louder so I just kept hitting the button, at this time I wasn't aware of the long volume delay time. To make a long story short, about a minute later you could hear the Pogues all across the room, as well as other classrooms. I don't have a problem with the Pogues being blasted across school, but as it turned out everyone else did, I got in trouble, but it was worth it I say!

Without hyperbole, I can say that this is the best Pogues album ever!! Whereas with the other albums like "Red Roses for Me" and "If I Should Fall From Grace With God" and the more recent ones like "Hell's Ditch", "Waiting For Herb", etc. all have songs that I skip at least one track, but "Rum, Sodomy..." defeats them all! From the lyrical lachrymose "A Pair of Brown" to the hedonistic "The Sickbed of Cuchulainn", this is the definitive Pogues, Shane at his maximum, Jem Finer at his best, and all the rest, with special instruments such as Ulliean pipes and a fiddle. In order to go on the path of Enlightenment, you must buy this album!!!!!!!!

1. Purchase whiskey (Wild Turkey works the best) 2. Play this CD while drinking said whiskey with close friends. 3. Finish whiskey. Play this CD until the bottle is dry. 4. Go into your local city and wreck holy hell. 5. When you wake up the next day with your hangover, you will either be in heaven, hell or jail. But at least you got to have a great soundtrack while getting there!

One of the cliches in talking about the Pogues is that they fuse the Celtic tradition with punk rock. while it is true that the aggressive momentum, confrontational vocals and determinedly 'low-rent' subject matter could not exist without the influence and milieu of late-70s punk (and are certainly not to be found in, say, the Wolfe Tones), the label gives a limiting view of the Pogues' versatility.

The use of the ballad form, in the sense of old story-telling narrative, and the underworld, unromantic romanticism has kindred spirits in Tom Waits and Nick Cave. 'A Pistol for Paddy Garcia' infuses ceili with great gusts of Ennio Morricone, while 'Jesse James' is a raucous country/bluegrass hoe-down.

Even the 'traditional music' tag is misleading. It doesn't do justice to the rich musical textures, the keening mandolins or fervent brass. it certainly doesn't do justice to the songwriting genius of Shane MacGowan. His melodies, song-structures, even his language owe a debt to traditional Irish music - what's different is the passion, the personal experience, the rich empathy.

These songs aren't the usual, cynical rehashes of rebel and drinking songs we find in 'modern' trad. music, aimed at tourists (the fact that MacGowan isn't first generation Irish gives his work a hard clarity missing from the lachrymose, self-pitying genre). they are poetic documentaries of exile and emigrant life. The invocation of Irish mythology, history and social life of course records centuries of injustice, of course constructs a definite identity, but it is an identity in foreign parts, England, Australia, America, alone, vulnerable, subject to the blows of history and death.

In the incredibly sad and tragic ballads (and if you don't break down weeping at 'And the band played Waltzing Matilda', you're very very lucky) and in the playful death- and exile-defying boisterousness of the fast ones, The Pogues embody the two sides of Irish - and, naturally, universal - experience: the rememberance of things past and communal, which were probably never as good as we thought they were; and the bleak solitude of the here and now, with history offering no comfort.