Here Comes Everybody: The Story of the Pogues

This guy takes himself WAAAAAAY too seriously and should have put the thesaurus down for a few minutes. Just one example (although the whole book is written like this): " Her small and purposeful mouth, glazed by custom with carmine lipstick, was drawn into an aristocratic pucker...Her disquisitions demanded full concentration..." Humorless and self-serious as he is, it's a wonder he ever lasted five minutes with this, of all bands...

This book surprised me. Not because I liked it; I knew I would. Having read Fearnley's Pogues reunion tour diaries I knew he could write, and his frank retelling of the Pogues' private moments captivates. What surprised me was Fearnley's use of, as he puts it, "the tools and sensibilities of a fiction writer." Fearnley was an aspiring writer before he joined the Pogues, telling founders MacGowan and Finer he would only join the band if it didn't interfere with the novel he was writing. Another surprise is that Fearnley chose not to deal with the reunited 21st Century Pogues. The book opens with the August 1991 band meeting in Japan when MacGowan's mates decided to fire him from the band he started. Then the history of the Pogues' first incarnation is told in a kind of flashback before ending in 1991 onstage during MacGowan's last performance with the band (pre-reunion, that is). The approach works nicely. What I like best about HERE COMES EVERYBODY is Fearnley's candor, from the cover photo to the final sentence, in placing Shane MacGowan at the story's center. As a MacGowan fanatic I've often felt his band mates exhibited ingratitude towards him. While Fearnley makes it clear that MacGowan was responsible for the band's demise, he seems to recognize that their careers were built on Shane's genius. Overall, this book should delight Pogues fans. Rake at the Gates of Hell: Shane MacGowan in Context

I came to the Pogues kind of late, but with a pedigree. It was Joe Strummer who recommended them to me, if you can believe it. What a nice man, and as Mr. Fearnley states in his acknowledgements, I wish he was still around to thank. That said, I haven't read a music memoir since "No One Here Gets Out Alive" quite some years ago, but I would definitely recommend this book as a good read. I enjoyed it very much. It must be very unique to find a musician who is also a capable writer. Who better to tell the story of the band than someone who actually lived it? To me, it's the personal insight that really sets this book apart from just a basic compilation of facts. Hope you read it and enjoy it, too.

Beautifully and poetically rendered, this book makes vivid the wondrous yet tragic story, in rich yet honest human terms, of the fascinating and brilliant world of what The Pogues were, and perhaps more poignantly, what they could've been, if not for the demons too often haunting creative genius.It makes me more appreciative of what they've already given, while also making me yearn for more. Just as I wish as a complete unit with Shane that they could create more music (though sadly this seems not to be in the cards), this book of James' makes me wish to know the rest of the story to the present.But, if nothing else, I surely hope Mr. Fearnley chooses to keep writing.

Very in-depth look at one of the more intriguing groups of the genre. A lot of particular focus on Shane MacGowan and his personal demons, but I suppose, he is kind of the star of the group, so casual Pogues fans would enjoy that part of it. Hardcore fans will enjoy the sidebars about the other people in the group simply writing songs or arranging instrumentals with a singular goal in mind, while the leader was off trouncing around somewhere.

I'll start by saying this: I've read a lot of music books and memoirs. A LOT. And not just famous ones, weird crap like the autobiography by some random horn player from Three Dog Night, and that canonical 300 page book on "Louie Louie", so if I have some kind of authority on something in this world, I tend to think this is probably it. With that said, I believe this is one of the top 3 music books I've ever read (Nick Kent's "The Dark Stuff" is definitely one of the other two, and Michael Azerrad's "Our Band Could Be Your Life" may be the other). James Fearnley describes early on in the book his dream to be a writer rather than a musician, and I can see why. He has a rare and remarkable skill in telling a story, peppering the narrative with subtle detail, beautiful imagery, and a keen sense of observation. He shares his memories-- which come semi-fictionalized, but based on his memory and diaries-- with alacrity, melancholy, wistfulness, and self-deprecation. They are engaging and human, and there's rarely a page that doesn't suffuse the reader with the drunken mixture of boundless promise and impending collapse that being a part of the Pogues must have been filled with. Some may find Fearnley's use of arcane vocabulary pretentious or unnecessary, but I personally found the story augmented by his deliberate and exacting word choices. A brilliant book, and one that I find myself returning to often.

Great insight into the time.

James holds nothing back about the life the band lead during the glory years! They were a band with tremendous talent. Usually it's all about Shane, however James includes every member of the band along the way and tells the good, the bad and the ugly. I enjoyed reading this book very much.

As a big Pogues and Shane Macgowan fan I found this book very interesting and revealing about the history of the band until Shane Macgowan's demise. I did not realise that only one member of the original band was actually born in Ireland and that James Fearnley the author did not even have Irish roots. James's ambition was to be a writer and it is clear from the style of the book that he has high aspirations and the writing is a little too florid and verbose in places. I also got the impression that although James Fearnley was a very good musician and played a variety of instruments that he felt a bit intimidated by more creative people such as Elvis Costello and Shane Macgowan. On the whole a very enjoyable and informative read about the rise of the band from playing pubs and clubs to stadiums and festivals such as Glastonbury.

Apart from me Shane has the milkiest skin of all the humans. If it saw daylight it would curdle and he himself would shrink so tight that a matchbox could be his dwelling. I'm not sure about this work, there's a bit of biting the hand that fed you about it. I once bit Herringbone McGee's hand after Mavis O'Riley slipped a Hallucinogen tablet into a fray bentos I was after eating for her own amusement, I thought his hand was a family sized white Toblerone. Needles to say Herringbone was extra merciless to me that day. xx

Part personal memoir and part cataloguing the disintegration of Shane McGowan. Early in the book Fearnley describes sitting with a typewriter, dictionary and thesaurus and this shows in his use of obscure sometimes archaic words to describe everyday things. I read it on Kindle which has the advantage of a built in dictionary and also illustrated the fact that not all the esoteric language was used correctly. None the less it is a worthwhile read and throws a light on the music world of the uninitiated like myself.

The rise and fall of a great band, the fall is obvious on their later albums. Usually a band like the Pogues should go from strength to strength, but they went into a serious decline. This book shows why. How they kept it going for so long is beyond me.

The Pogues produced some of the most incredible moments in rock history. Most famous for the best loved Christmas song - Fairytale of New York and for their drunk and toothless genius front man Shane Macgowan, the Pogues shone like diamonds for 10 or so years before self imploding in a stream of whiskey, bitterness and acid.James Fearnley the bands accordionist, has written a wonderful bio of the band that in its own right should now be part of the Pogues own back catalogue. He is a rather good writer, almost poetic, his words eloquently describe the chaos and genius of this rabble called the Pogues. The early chapters are set in a stinking, dark, wet, post punk London in the early 80', hanging around Shane, and Jem Finer as they change from small town punks to globally famous Pogues.At the heart of the story is Shane, the mysterious and somewhat wretched front man. Its interesting to read James account of Shane as it seems James has little idea of where or how Shane manages to write some of the most inspirational and moving songs of all time. Shane is is nihilistic, smashed, very well read, funny, and totally unreliable.The rest of the band are all just as interesting, from Jem Finer being the bands glue and father figure, Spider Stacy - Shanes best mate, to the very young, pretty, and slightly unhinged Cait O'Riodan. While James himself explains in great detail how they tried to turn Shane songs from 3 cord poems to epics masterpieces.I love music but tend to avoid band bios and most music books, mainly they are poorly written and self serving. This is the opposite, you get a mix of literature, poetry, violence , tears, dancing, friendship and hate all swimming in a endless vat of booze- which is essentially what every Pogues song is about, so now we have the story to go with it.