"Fuck Paddy’s Day!" mutters rock-and-roll Paddy-in-extremis Shane MacGowan halfway through this rowdy document of St. Patrick’s shows in NYC and Dublin last year. But he must like the drinking man’s holiday at least a little, since despite the inveterate lush’s spotty live reputation, Shaney Mac is in great, uh, spirits here. Sure, he slurs his words, and sometimes he dispenses with ’em altogether in favor of a long, spit-inflected chuckle: "Shshpskshkttt!" But that’s mostly confined to the between-song banter. As soon as a snare crack or the lonesome keen of a tin whistle signals a song’s start, he hardly misses a beat. Tearing his way through Pogues chestnuts ("Streams of Whiskey"), newer Popes numbers ("Mother Mo Chroí"), and covers like a stark reading of Hank Williams’s "Angel of Death," Shane proves that years of self-abuse haven’t quite ruined him yet. And the Popes, as they say in Dublin, are fuckin’ rapid. The "Popes Instrumental" medley finds accordionist Mick O’Connell and banjo slinger Tom "McAnimal" McMannamon trading licks as fast as a run to last call. And soaring above even the instrumental dexterity is the visceral, bleary-eyed soul of "Lonesome Highway," in which a pining "Arrrrrgh looove ya sooooooo!" rises from the depths of Shane’s gin-soaked and tar-stained guts. Despite its familial warmth, the duet MacGowan enacts on "Fairytale of New York" with his comically off-key sister Theresa makes one miss the original’s late Kirsty MacColl. But a ripping assault on "The Irish Rover," peppered with Shane’s euphoric (if not euphonic) squeals, proves that sometimes it’s all right if booze is your muse.