The Specials took their roots and added their own twist to it, just like the Mekons did, and the Pogues were no different. They blended folk music with punk energy. The melodies were fantastic, the lyrics hit you hard—drink and dance.
And you know what? When my children were young, I used to sing them to sleep with songs by Hank Williams, the Mekons, and the Pogues. “Dirty Old Town” was a daily lullaby.
A special memory: on the day we buried my father, I chose not to miss the Pogues’ concert at the Melkweg in Amsterdam. Music can be a source of comfort. It’s there to help us forget and remember. My father loved music—he would have understood. And, of course, the Pogues made me cry.
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