OK, to get this out of the way: The Pogues at 9:30 last night was the best show I have ever seen in my life. It was fucking religious. And although I’ve no idea how Shane MacGowan has kept his liver from sliding down his pantleg after all these years, he has and he was upright and it was enough.

Some highlights:

1. MacGowan still sounds just as he did on studio albums cut in the ’80s. It’s the same chewing-on-a-driveway/smooth as cream voice, even more remarkable considering that, true to legend, he actually could not speak—the only semi-intelligble words I heard were, “Hello Wasssshhhton.” He dropped his mike, missed his mouth with a bottle of mystery booze kept at his feet; he looked pasty and near-death and when he occasionally walked offstage, he came back even more shattered. Yet after 25 years, after breakups and canceled shows, after the death of Joe Strummer and guitarist Phillip Chevron’s recent bout with cancer, MacGowan and his long-suffering bandmates brought it, firing through a near-perfect setlist. It wasn’t groundbreaking—starting with “Stream of Whiskey” and ending, after two encores, with “Fiesta”—but it contained gems both rocking and nostalgic: “If I Should Fall from the Grace of God,” “A Pair of Brown Eyes,” “The Body of an American,” “Dirty Old Town,” “Sunnyside of the Street,” “Bottle of Smoke,” “Sick Bed of Cuchulainn,” and, a personal fave, “Rainy Night in SoHo.”

2. Founding member and tin whistler Spider Stacy took the lead on a couple of songs, including his “Tuesday Morning.” In a word: lovely. The band, with him at the helm, will likely live on (again) after MacGowan.

3. MacGowan, in an old tradition he borrowed from Stacy, beat his head with a beer tray at the end of “Fiesta.” And did not fall down.

4. This was after his on-pitch screaming during several spirited numbers.

5. And a number of cigarettes onstage. If the drink hasn’t killed him, I don’t think D.C. law can really touch him.

6. The opening act, London’s Urban Voodoo Machine—with its two drummers, multiple antics, and obvious Tom Waits inspiration—was a great tone-setter. They’re opening tonight, too, and playing the Red and the Black on Tuesday. Definitely worth a look.

7. Up on the second tier, I watched the superfans pogo at the front of the stage and sing every word and, although not a superfan, I felt what they felt. Growing up vaguely a Mick, seeing the Pogues together and hearing them sounding so great was like going home, or at least for me, it was like channeling my life 15 years ago—a college apartment, a couple of roommates from Ireland, a boombox, and the Pogues turned up very, very loud.

There are a few tickets on Craigslist for tonight’s show, some of them reasonably priced. I can’t think MacGowan is going to be around for many more tours, if any, and this one is limited. If you can, go.

1. Guitarist Nels Cline looks like he’s here to fix your printer, except when he’s rocking out to the point of his glass slide flying into some superfan’s skull. Superfan: excited to be struck by Nels Cline’s slide, reluctantly dislodges it and gives it back to band.

2. Horn section on tour with the band, “Total Pros”—Tweedy calls them “Totem Poles”—appears ready to do your taxes after Nels fixes your printer. They do not appear to love Wilco songs. Possibly, they are Neil Diamond fans.

3. The macrame owl mascot has lasted longer than some members of the band.

4. Tweedy still hates when anyone except him talks.

5. Tweedy, when not cracking the ruler on the talking, actually smiles, appears to like his job, looks much healthier than he ever has. He did not tell any stories about being tweaked and actually pooping his pants onstage, as he did at solo show in Grantham, Pa., in ‘05. Pooping, according to Tweedy, occurred in Grantham, ‘02.

6. Setlist: writerly, a tinge nostalgic, extra dash of fresh (i.e. few repeats from previous D.C. setlists). Highlights, in order of personal preference: “Casino Queen,” “Sunken Treasure,” “Via Chicago,” “Monday,” “California Stars,” “Pieholden Suite,” “Box Full of Letters,” “Hate It Here.”

7. Lowlights: Noise. Feedback blasts. Guitar masturbation. Sorry, Tweedy heads and rock critics. That shit sucks.

*Please note: I am not a Tweedy head or a rock critic. I have seen Wilco or Tweedy six times in six years, which makes me no sort of expert, just a fan, a curious onlooker, a keeper of anecdotes. I do not buy vinyl. My taste in music will not hold up to scrutiny of many on this blog. I acknowledge this and file anyway. Do what you will.

On New Year’s Eve, Todd Savitch attended his last (official) free show at the 9:30 Club, going out in go-go style with Chuck Brown. As one of the winners of the club’s annual raffle for a full year of free shows, Savitch was legendary. According to the staff, no one who’d ever won the prize before had cashed in on it the way Savitch did.

After meeting Savitch, a marketing consultant and publicist for the District Fine Arts gallery at 1726 Wisconsin Ave., at the Chuck Brown show, I asked him if he’d do a Q&A with the Bag:

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The Beastie Boys are back with background music, but the new all-instrumental The Mix-Up is funky, smooth-jazzy, Brooklyn white-boy background music. I’m uncool and even I like it, although this morning I cued up “She’s Crafty” just to be sure.

I think I especially liked what Ad Rock (Adam Horovitz) had to say about it to the Post-Intelligencer: “It’s an interesting time to not say something.” This from a guy who went to the edge of Springsteen with literal post-9/11 lyrics (”Dear New York I know a lot has changed/2 towers down but you’re still in the game…”) in “An Open Letter to NYC.”

Tough luck, though, if you want to stick near D.C. to take advantage of the iTunes/Ticketmaster exclusive on preferred seating for the “soon-to-be-soldout” tour. The closest show is Philly…