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Twenty years ago today, one of the all-time greats was taken from us. RIP Kirsty.
I think this was the first Kirsty song I was ever aware of, a chart hit in the distant mad teenage summer of 1991. (Ironic Johnny Marr sidenote: I knew WDM and Billy Bragg’s Sexuality well before I’d heard any Smiths song.)
I first heard this in 1996 when I bought Galore (a great gateway drug into the MacColl catalogue, as all Best Ofs should be) and fell instantly, hopelessly in love. Still as gloomily true as ever in 2020, still waiting for the clans to rise again.
Distressingly not available on Spotify, Titanic Days is my favourite KM album – not least for this gem, which seems to get more poignant with each passing year. The first autumn rain to sparkle the signs of the Underground invariably brings it to mind.
One more, or I’ll be here all day: this sublime mariachi-in-Belsize Park rush of football, sleazebags and betrayal.
‘It isn't in my nature to ever pick a winner / I always pick a bastard who would have me for his dinner’
‘It isn't in my nature to ever pick a winner / I always pick a bastard who would have me for his dinner’
(Honorary mention for Nao Esperando/Alegria, a double whammy of irrepressible ... well ... happiness and joy.) #KirstyMacColl
