Wayward Q&A: Interview with Philip Chevron of the Pogues

This Sunday, semin … no, wait. Legen— nah. Fucking righteous Irish rock band the Pogues is playing its first concert ever in Kansas City. Brief history: The band formed in the early ’80s in London, forcing punk and traditional Irish music together like opponents in a drinking contest who both end up on the barroom floor, talking to God and hugging. Beginning with the trio of singer and songwriter Shane MacGowan, tin whistler Spider Stacy and guitarist Jim Fearnley, the group first called itself Pogue Mahone (Gaelic for “kiss my ass”) and began adding members, releasing its first album as the Pogues, Red Roses for Me, in 1984. The album caught critical attention and established the band as the most exciting group in the UK working with traditional folk forms. But it was the 1985 album Rum, Sodomy & the Lash, produced by Elvis Costello, that broke the band as a worldwide phenomenon. The Pogues continued their run with 1988’s masterful If I Should Fall from Grace with God, but by the time the following year’s imperfect but solid Peace and Love came out, things had gotten rocky.

MacGowan’s reputedly titanic overindulgences were taking their toll. Stacy and banjo player Jem Finer sang most of the vocals on LP no. 4, Hell’s Ditch, and shortly after, MacGowan was out altogether. The band soldiered on, recruiting the Clash’s Joe Strummer to sing on tour and recording the final Pogues album, Waiting for Herb, with Stacy at the mic. Meanwhile, MacGowan returned on his own with backing band the Popes. Neither MacGowan nor the Pogues fared well without each other, however. The first reunion tour was in 2001. Since then, the Pogues have hit the road intermittently over the years to play their classics: songs about joy, drunkeness, working-class rebellion, the Irish immigration experience, love and being in a band. “Young men’s songs,” as Philip Chevron calls them.

Guitarist Philip Chevron (born Philip Ryan) joined the band just before Rum, Sodomy & the Lash. His best-known contribution is the immigration ballad “Thousands Are Sailing,” off Grace. He’s also known (mainly in the UK) for his ongoing punk band the Radiators. At 52 and a cancer survivor, Chevron is articulate and forthcoming. Constantly interacting with fans on the Pogues fan forum, Chevron is circumspect about the Pogues’ tumultuous career and seems just as ready to debate politics — he has a vehement dislike for the Westboro Baptist Church — as remember old times. We caught up with Chevron on the phone from Dublin a couple of weeks before the beginning of this fall tour. Though it was a long, fascinating interview with a generous and entertaining man, we don’t even want to think what our phone bill’s going to be for the international call. Please, folks, savor these words. Keep them in your heart. Or at least buy us a beer on Sunday at the Midland.

Wayward Blog: How did you get the name Chevron?

Philip Chevron: I can’t remember. It’s a long time ago, and I’ve been Chevron a lot longer than my original name. I suppose I wanted to impress American hotel concierges or receptionists that my father was a big oil millionaire or something. And maybe I thought it would get me a better table at restaurants, and if that’s the case, it certainly hasn’t worked. [Laughs.]

How did you feel overall about the dates you played earlier this year?

They went pretty good, actually. It’s sorted of worked quite well for us, splitting America up into March and October, as it were. It means we can get to the East Coast in March and the West Coast in October. The shows have been pretty good, and we also did some shows in Europe over the summer that were good. So, it still works for us, I guess, and the audience.

What does the band do to prepare for going on tour?

At this stage, because we’ve been at it for so long, we just do a minimum of rehearsal in whatever the first city is. So we’ll rehearse in Seattle a day or two before we do our Seattle gig. I guess if we don’t know the songs by now, we’ll never know them.

How’s your health?

Thank you, I’m very well, actually. The danger seems to have passed, at least for the time being, so I’m feeling very good, quite strong again. That was a scary moment while it lasted.

Your struggle with the disease [throat cancer] took place over two years, right?

Yeah, pretty much. It takes almost that long just to get the fucking chemotherapy out of your system, which is the big problem everybody has who gets treated for cancer – it’s not so much the cancer that wrecks you, it’s the treatment that wrecks you. And if you don’t have the treatment, you’re leaving yourself wide open for even worse. But it does take a long, long time to get it out of your system, and I got pretty heavy doses of it and simultaneous radiation as well.

Were you covered by the Irish health care system?

My main home is in Britain, so I’m covered by the NHS. That much-reviled NHS that the American right are pointing to as a faulty mechanism for health care [laughs], without which, I wouldn’t be talking to you.

You support the NHS, then?

Well, absolutely. They saved my life twice, why wouldn’t I? I basically believe in the principle that societies deserve to do what it takes to make sure they’re the healthiest they can be, if only because healthy societies are also productive ones. It’s very disconcerting to see that so many people in America have financial issues and bankruptcy issues and just let their health deteriorate because they can’t afford health insurance. It’s just a no-brainer to me. The British basically gave themselves health insurance as a gift for helping to win the Second World War, and it was just the greatest social gesture of the 20th century, really. And every society that’s emulated it since has found it works.