Having been rude about the IRA (see earlier post), The Knife will happily own up to Irish ancestry, lots of it. However, when I go there, I don’t feel particularly Irish. I couldn’t even begin to try the Plastic Paddy thing.
The great man died young, after a brain tumour. He was 44. Although he was terrific at the rousing stuff, he was phenomenal at the ballads and slower songs. Three examples: Parcel of Rogues (his granny was a Scot), The wonderful The Town I loved So Well, and Raglan Road: