Long red hair pulled back into a pony tail, cross legged on the couch in a black cotton jumpsuit, she fixes herself a cigarette and fixes me with a weary, wary stare. I'll discover later that she possesses the most impish of grins but, now, as the sixth tape recorder of the day whirrs to attention she's not smiling much. Kirsty MacColl has another trademark. She hates interviews.
Paul Hullah, Cut, 1989 [Read the full article]
Seems like yesterday that Kirsty MacColl was topping the charts with The Pogues on Fairy-tale of New York. And only last week herself with A New England. But it's actually eight years since her first chart success with There's a Guy Works Down the Chip Shop Swears He's Elvis. What's she been doing since then?
Roddy Thomson, Evening Times, 1989 [Read the full article]
Tony Horkins, International Musician, 1989 [Read the full article]
So, Kirsty MacColl, you've been writing Songs with Johnny Marr. Wasn't it a bit intimidating taking the place of his last wordsmith?
DJ, Melody Maker, 1989 [Read the full article]
Ten years on from her teenage debut, the erstwhile princess of New Wave pop is married to her prince Steve Lillywhite and a mother of two nursery school Michael Jackson fans.
Steve Lamacq , NME, 1989 [Read the full article]
Kirsty MacColl is much in demand as the single-handed supplier of "Beach Boys" backing vocals to the discerning megastar. Now, with a bold and characterful solo album, she threatens to move centre stage.
Phil Sutcliffe, Q, 1989 [Read the full article]
Kirsty MacColl is as un-rock 'n' roll as they come. The only thing she really has in common with legendary metalsters. Bad News is the way she'll throw up before a gig, not because she's out of her skull on drink 'n' drugs, just that she's nervous.
TB, Record Mirror, 1989 [Read the full article]
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