Spider Stacy

A gang of bank robbers with a suitcase full of money go to the desert to hide out. After burying the loot, they find their way to a surreal town full of cowboys who drink an awful lot of coffee.

The Pogues playing on St. Patrick's Day in London's Town and Country serves to remind fans why we loved the band and possibly why their breakup was inevitable. A thoroughly sloshed Shane MacGowan mumbles and screams his way through most of their hits to that point in time. Of course, real fans like the mumbling and the screaming. Lots of energy, great guests - The Specials, the late Kirstie MacColl and especially the late great Joe Strummer - who not only gets up on stage for a stirring rendition of London Calling, but serves as a kind of host for the evening as he discusses what made the Pogues so great. The video times in at a paltry 60 minutes which leaves you begging for more, but between the singalong Wild Rover and the silly string silliness of Fiesta, it is a jam-packed entertaining piece of music history.

Thirteen examples of The Pogues unique brand of hellraising folk, ranging from punky takes on traditional Irish songs like 'Dirty Old Town' to the Shane MacGowan penned originals which offered romanticised visions of life viewed through the bottom of a bottle.

A look at the creation of The Pogues' song "Fairytale of New York".

A short film to accompany the reissue of Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds album Kicking Against the Pricks (originally released in 1986). The result is a determinedly human portrait of the unique body of work produced by the band over the last 25 years, told through those who have lived and loved the music, including close collaborators.

'What we did, right, was we broke open the pop market, right? To trad music, right? Irish trad music, yeah? Now what happened after that I don't know...' So confesses toothy, hard-drinkin' Shane McGowan, lead man with punk-folk megastars the Pogues, the band that has taken traditional Irish folk and ramshackle rock to the bright pop lights of Wembley. In this rather haphazard but proud spirit, the documentary, like the Pogues' career itself, continues: the band and the various famous rockers they've jammed with offering opinions and anecdotes in a surprisingly entertaining and often revealing manner. Even if you have absolutely no interest in the music, the vast array of pasty-faced uglies is really quite stunning.