Shane MacGowan was my friend – and nothing like his wild-man reputation

He could be chaotic, for sure, but the Pogues frontman was very different in private from his public persona. His biographer Richard Balls remembers a man who revealed his innermost thoughts over glasses of white wine and Westerns

The author (right) with Shane MacGowan: ‘For someone who wrote such powerful and poetic words, Shane was a man of very few’ (Paul Ronan)

Fairytale of New York”, Shane MacGowan’s epic composition that captured the Irish experience, has become the song of Christmas. Since it first graced the charts back in 1987, it has possessed a unique pathos for a festive record. Shane’s passing at the age of 65 – just a few weeks before his Christmas Day birthday – has bestowed on it an even greater poignancy this year.

There was never any doubt outside of Ireland as to Shane’s stature in his beloved country, and they did him proud. Dublin was thronged with fans as the glass, horse-drawn carriage carrying his remains wound its way slowly through the streets, the Artane Band leading the procession. There were tears, but the singing of his best-loved songs gave the occasion a respectful sense of celebration that was replicated in Nenagh, the Tipperary town where his extraordinary, star-studded funeral service eventually took place.

It is a huge privilege to have been there, and to have known the man who has become an icon for so many. I was a fan from the moment I stumbled on The Pogues supporting Elvis Costello on Halloween night in 1984, and their songs became part of the soundtrack to the rest of that decade and beyond. When I found myself, years later, sitting with him in his home and talking about his life, it was surreal but a great honour, and I became very fond of him and his sister Siobhan, who was a huge support.