Fairytale of New York
It was Christmas Eve, babe...
Completed and first released in 1987, “Fairytale of New York” has become the antihero holiday anthem for a certain portion of the population (me. It’s me.) It’s the gritty drunken uncle to all of the cheery holiday tunes. And I play it more or less on repeat every Christmas Eve. (Apparently, Hozier is a fan, too.)
Writing began in 1985. Legends arose regarding its beginnings. Shane MacGowan (fun fact: he was born on Christmas Day) said that it began as a bet with their producer at the time, Elvis Costello (yes, really); their manager claimed it was his idea for The Pogues to do a Christmas song. The banjo player is said to come up with the melody and the concept of an Irish sailor in New York looking out over the water and longing for home; his wife suggested it be a conversation between two lovers at Christmastime. Even with the concept, the lyrics were written and rewritten many times. According to MacGowan:
Every night I used to have another bash at nailing the lyrics, but I knew they weren't right. It is by far the most complicated song that I have ever been involved in writing and performing. The beauty of it is that it sounds really simple.
We do know that the title came from JP Donleavy’s novel A Fairy Tale of New York. Elvis Costello apparently wanted it to be called “Christmas Eve in the Drunk Tank,” but the band resisted on the grounds that radio stations wouldn’t play that song (probably the right call.)
In 1986, the band went into the studio with an early version of the song. Cait O'Riordan sang on the first recordings (you can hear a demo here), but exited the band – along with Elvis Costello – toward the end of the year. MacGowan initially recorded both parts himself, but it was suggested that Steve Lillywhite’s wife, Kirsty MacColl step in. Lillywhite (now the producer) took the tapes home and she recorded her portion. When MacGowan heard her vocals, he re-recorded his own, and the song was compiled – with harps, horns and strings – without the two of them setting foot in the same studio.
The lyrics are often criticized for their content. The idea was for the words to be true to how these characters would speak, but that can obviously be problematic. Censorship of the slur has become fairly commonplace. But the genius of the song – what helped it become so iconic – is that the lyrics and music never quite stay in one place too long, swinging from the gutter to the bright lights of Broadway, from resentment to adoration. The music goes from sad contemplation (inspired by Ennio Morricone’s soundtrack to Once Upon a Time in America; MacGowan and Spider Stacy wore out a copy of the movie on their tour bus) to pure show tune by way of Ireland. This review from The Daily Telegraph sums the song up well:
In careening wildly through a gamut of moods from maudlin to euphoric, sentimental to profane, mud-slinging to sincerely devoted in the space of four glorious minutes – it's seemed perfectly suited to Christmas – a time which highlights the disparity between the haves and have nots around the world.
For me, it’s the perfect Christmas song because it’s wistful for a time, a place and a reality that never really existed. Don’t we all get that way at Christmastime? We miss the freedom of youthful folly, we miss the choices we might’ve made differently, we miss the Christmases we were promised by movies and greeting cards, but which will forever be out of reach, like any other drunk tank dream. From The Guardian:
Once upon a time a band set out to make a Christmas song. Not about snow or sleigh rides or mistletoe or miracles, but lost youth and ruined dreams. A song in which Christmas is as much the problem as it is the solution. A kind of anti-Christmas song that ended up being, for a generation, the Christmas song. It is loved because it feels more emotionally "real" than the homesick sentimentality of White Christmas or the bullish bonhomie of Merry Xmas Everybody, but it contains elements of both and the story it tells is an unreal fantasy of 1940s New York dreamed up in 1980s London.
“Fairytale of New York” is still frequently listed among the UK’s best and favorite Christmas songs. If starting Christmas in the drunk tank isn’t too maudlin for you, then come join me and the boys of the NYPD choir (PS They don’t actually have one. In the music video, it’s the NYPD Pipes and Drums; they didn’t know “Galway Bay,” so they’re playing the “Mickey Mouse March.”)