Lend me ten pounds, I'll buy you a drink

The Pogues were in Nottingham last night, and I went with Graham. They were terrific, even in a crappy old shed like the Nottm Arena, which is hardly a patch on the Brixton Academy (St Patricks Day 1988) for atmosphere. Most of the band are now bald and trim and teetotal, apparently, and perhaps as a consequence they play fantastically. MacGowan is still a wreck, but (largely) comprehensible for most of the time. At one stage he had to be reminded which tune was next, but with a few trips off stage for a refreshing light ale, he was relatively sprightly.

The setlist on this 'reunion' tour is full of old stuff from the first three albums, including tracks from Red Roses For Me which I have never heard live before, alongside favourites like Body of an American, Bottle of Smoke, and the Sickbed of Cúchulainn. There was a lachrymose version of Fairytale of New York to end with, resulting in Mr Ward getting a thorough dousing of fake snow, and some concerned enquiries in the pub after the gig...