As part of our weekly contest for a crisp, freshly minted €25 voucher for Golden Discs, redeemable in any of thirteen locations around the country, we asked you to complete the following sentence:
‘The greatest ‘fupp you’ song in my experience would have to be__________________because_________________’
The competition was stiff.
But there can be only one winner…
Clampers Outside: with the clincher:
“The greatest ‘fupp you’ song in my experience would have to be Song For the Dumped by Ben Folds Five because the lyrics are brilliantly simple, real …and cutting with bitterness, and a tinge of humour. After all, no one wants to lose their favourite t-shirt in a break-up. Gotta love his priorities.”
Other contenders from the running:
Ivan: “Well, look, ordinarily I’m rather humble in my choices, and bow to other views but frankly there’s only one and so… the greatest ‘fupp you’ song in my experience would have to be Yes, by McAlmont & Butler because the lyrics, the voice, the swirling orchestra, the crunch of the guitars and production that Phil Spector himself would have called OTT”
Sham Bob: “The greatest ‘fupp you’ song in my experience would have to be Queen of Denmarkby John Grant because of the way it builds up to a completely devastating crescendo of defiance. If you were the target of this wall of fupp you-itude, you’d hide under a rock for six months after hearing it.”
Me: “The greatest ‘fupp you’ song in my experience would have to be Dead Kennedys’ (version) of Take This Job and Shove it because who hasn’t wanted to shout that at our boss at some point?”
Kenny U-Vox Plank: The greatest ‘fupp you’ song in my experience would have to be Philo’s Ode to a Black Man because it’s it sticks it to Ireland and anyone who can’t deal with the fact we are a multi-ethnic society. And because he’s Irish.
Mourning Ireland: “The greatest “fupp you” song in my experience would have to be Fupp Me Pumps by Amy Winehouse because it’s Amy saying that talking a walk in someone else’s shoes is skanky.”
Pearl: “The greatest ‘fupp you’ song in my experience would have to be Untouchable Face by Ani DiFranco because it’s a hate song about love.”
Last Friday, we asked you, our witty, urbane commentariat, to outline your favourite song, of any genre, of Irish extraction, to play on Paddy’s Day several days after Paddy’s Day.
In fact, we asked you to complete the following sentence.
“If I could hear only one song on March 17 any point early next week, please make it_________________________because______________________”
At stake was a handsome, well-lit and gentlemanly voucher to the tune of twenty-five beans, redeemable at any of 14 Golden Discs locations around the country.
There could only be one winner, though, as ever…
Smith, with a classic from the People’s Republic of Cork:
If I could hear only one song on March 17, please make it Where’s Me Jumper by The Sultans of Ping FC. An anarchic tune with brilliant and sometimes nonsensical lyrics, and a class guitar riff. Nothing to do with Paddy’s Day but more Irish.
Other hoolies from the running:
Shane: “It has to be Thousands are Sailing by The Pogues. The lines “We stepped hand in hand on Broadway/like the first man on the moon”; and “When I got back to my empty room/I suppose I must have cried” just capture the Irish experience! All irony and innocence intended.”
Pat Walsh: “If I could hear only one song on March 17th, please make it Microdisney’s Town To Town. It’s got a great vocal from Cathal Coughlan as well as a simple but imaginative music video.”
RealPolithicks: “If I could hear only one song on March 17 please make it Raggle Taggle Gypsy Oh, because it’s a quintessentially Irish song by one of the greatest Irish bands of all time. I give you, Planxty.”
Johnny Keenan: “If I could listen to only one song on Paddy’s night it would have to be
RíRá’sFront Bar. I saw him live in Barcelona 2011 on Paddy’s Night. He was supporting Method Man. Just watch the video and you will feel so proud to be Irish. Once you realise and feel, that someone with so much passion, doesn’t need to be known by anyone or anywhere, in order to have maximum impact, on first hearing seeing and meeting… that’s true Irish!”
Scottser: “If I could only hear one song on March 17, please make it Come Out Ye Black and Tansbecause it has everything – pointless nationalism, a killer chorus and and a ‘come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough’ attitude that would make a Millwall fan jealous. I always fancy that come the revolution, Come out Ye Black and Tans will be the soundtrack.”
Liam Deliverance: “Oh, the halcyon days of the summer of 1990 and a World Cup in Italy. A simpler time when Irishmen and Irishwomen were justifiably proud of our little country and the long strange trip that we had traveled together. Put ‘Em Under Pressure. Produced by Larry Mullen, Moya Brennan of Clannad does the intro, timeless Jack Charlton vocals and a melody from a tune called O’Neills March, itself a tribute to the great Hugh O’Neill.
Steph Pinker: “If I could hear only one song on March 17, please make it The Waterboys’ version of William Butler Yeats’ poem, The Stolen Child, because as a Faery Queen in a former life I had to relinquish my crown due to my Earthly fondness of a music God called Bowie, and Dana didn’t like it; henceforth, in the twinkling, but myopic eyes of my Tuatha brethren, I will forever be known as a chchchchangeling.”
Last week, in our Friday Golden Discs competition, we asked you who your favourite second-generation Irish artists have been over the years.
To be precise, we asked you to fill in the following blanks:
The greatest example of English-born second generation Irish musical prowess would have to be______________________________________’
At stake was a voucher printed and signed off on to the tune of twenty-five Euro, redeemable at any of Golden Discs’ fourteen locations around the country. The competition was fierce. But there, as ever, can only be one winner.
PMCD with the clincher:
“The greatest example of English-born second generation Irish musical prowess would have to Kevin Rowland of Dexys. Mr Rowland lambasted the stereotype of the Thick Paddy with his first single ‘Dance Stance’: “Never heard about, can’t think about Oscar Wilde and Brendan Behan, Sean O’Casey, George Bernard Shaw. Samuel Beckett, Eugene O’Neill, Edna O’Brien and Lawrence Stern.”
He almost spits out the lyrics in anger – it still sends a shiver up my back 35+ years later. Oh, and his second single ‘Geno’ went to No. 1 and happens to be one of the best songs ever – pop fact! And if all that’s not good enough for ya – the man’s got style!”
Other highlights from the running:
Smith: “The greatest example of English-born second generation Irish musical prowess would have to be John Lydon. Hard to sum up his influence and impact with any soundbite, but this legend firstly under the guise of ‘Johnny Rotten’ with the Sex Pistols was the punk spokesperson for disaffected youth in a time not dissimilar to now in the UK with rising racism and burgeoning neoliberalism. He was both proudly British and Irish and was unafraid to express his views both musically and in person. With PIL, he really found his form and helped to re-shape music with this post-punk brilliance. RISE is a song that encapsulates the man. “Anger is an energy”.”
Jamie: “The greatest example of English-born second generation Irish musical prowess is clearly proud Waterford woman Kate Bush (her mother was from the Deise). Have any of these other people (the comments had) mentioned recorded a song with whipping noises and someone going “OOOOH! OOOOH!” like an owl in the background all the way through? No. No they haven’t. I rest my case.”
Penfold: “The greatest example of English-born second generation Irish musical prowess would have to be both Lennon and McCartney. Both embraced this, evident in their post Beatles ventures, with Wings’ Give Ireland back to the Irish, and Lennon/Yoko’s Sunday Bloody Sunday.”
Bertie Blenkinsop: “The greatest example of English-born second generation Irish musical prowess would have to be The Smiths. TOTP, 1983. I first set eyes on Johnny Marr and it was love at first sight. He’s never put a foot wrong since in my eyes, the coolest man alive. His autobiography is a great read and his solo stuff is not half bad either.”
Daisy Chainsaw: “The greatest example of English-born second generation Irish musical prowess would have to be Mary O’Brien who became Dusty Springfield. A sublime voice who brought pathos to and elevated the songs of Bacharach and David to the classics they deserved to be.”
Zena: “The greatest example of English-born second generation Irish musical prowess, would have to be Siobhan Fahey from Bananarama. She was so much more than a pretty face.”
EightersGonnaEight: “The greatest example of English-born second generation Irish musical prowess would have to be Bernard Butler of Suede.”
Pictured above, clockwise from top-left: Kevin Burke, Power of Dreams, The Golden Horde, Rollerskate Skinny, Auto da Fe, Aidan Walsh (Master of the Universe)
Last week, in our Friday Golden Discs competition, we asked you, rather than for any genre in particular, your favourite Irish gem that’s been forgotten by the march of time.
In fact, we asked you to finish the following sentence:
“I regard_______________________________as an absolute forgotten Irish classic because__________________________’
At stake was no more than a voucher guaranteeing its bearer a handsome twenty-five beans at any of Golden Discs’ fourteen locations around the country. And the competition was really, very tight. But there, as ever, can only be one winner.
Harry Molloy, one of Broadsheet’s regular commentators, with the well-deserved clincher:
I have found the most underappreciated but greatest Irish song that there is – this is especially strengthened by how much we tend to appreciate and replicate anything of value from this genre of music. Suitably, it is a song which no one I knew had heard of, and no once since has, until such time as it had been introduced to them.
It is ‘Mrs Gilhooley’s Party’ from Kevin Burke of the Bothy Band. With a song title like that you would be well excused to ignore, but I challenge you to stop and have a listen. Its best qualities are the fact that it is decent trad, of good caliber, it’s really funny, and you can’t watch it and not think how great it would be to see someone take that on live.
From an editorial perspective, this was an absolute heartbreaker to boil down to a few runners-up, but indeed, here they are. All of these tunes are also in the playlist embedded above, for your convenience.
Liam Zero: “I regard Season by Last Days of 1984 as an absolute forgotten Irish classic because, like the rest of the album it came from, it is one of the most wonderful pieces of music made on these shores, and it evokes joy and nostalgia and happiness and love and bliss and warmth and a late summer vibe that perhaps never actually exists in this country but which seems like a certainty this year once you hit play. It’s aural MDMA that doesn’t require you to go buying some dodgy pill from some dodgier bloke and then suffering the dodgiest comedown. It’s all the high and none of the low. It’s sunset and sunrise. It’s we’re going to be friends for EVER. It’s homebound contentment. It makes you gush this sort of rubbish. And it never got the love it deserved. It was forgotten from the start. But it’s goddamn fucking beautiful and I love it.”
Ferret McGruber: “I regard November, November by Auto da Fe as an absolute forgotten Irish classic because of Gay Wood’s evocative singing and bonkers stage performances, and Trevor Knight’s superb, ethereal keyboards. When it was released in 1982 it wasn’t like what anyone else was doing at the time. It’s also significant for being produced by Phil Lynott. Still makes me wonder what more he could have achieved had he stuck around.”
Gorugeen: “I regard Speed to My Side by Rollerskate Skinny as a forgotten Irish classic because it’s a rollicking, big sound and brings me back to Fibber Magees, main dance floor and the crowd going mental to it. But, nowadays all I get is blank looks when I mention the band or song. They should’ve been so much more.”
Me: “I regard Friends in Time by The Golden Horde as an absolute forgotten Irish classic because it’s a great song, with a Larry Gogan cameo in the video, but most of all when I went to listen to it on Spotify a few months back I couldn’t find their version, only the Ronan Keating cover.”
Baron Von Botter III: “Dudley Corporation’s Divil the Bit has it all. Swaying and lurching, threatening to topple over yet staying tight and lyrical. Abruptly ends after barely two minutes. All the elements of a classic.”
Friscondo: “It has to be one the the greatest Irish pop songs, Those Nervous Animals’ My Friend John. Great tune, great lyrics and now almost totally forgotten. I defy anyone not to love it on their first listen. Sligo has never produced anything better.”
Smith: “I regard Feeding Frenzy by National Prayer Breakfast an absolute forgotten Irish classic. An anthemic Phantom FM staple, with lyrics and jangly guitar representing true indie music away from the manufactured sound of mainstream radio.”
Al Jeers: “I regard ‘Master of the Universe’ Aidan Walsh’s Community Games as an absolute forgotten Irish classic because it’s the only song to my knowledge to conceptually decontruct that most Irish of all sports meetings.”
Donal: I regard Arclight by The Fat Lady Sings as an absolute forgotten Irish classic, because it’s still a cracking tune and it was our summer anthem at Ballyfin Jamboree in 1993.
Bertie Blenkinsop: Foremost among a number of great suggestions made by Bertie, who played a blinder here, was Power of Dreams’ Stay. – Mike
Goosey Lucy: Revelino’s Happiness is Mine. Listened to it non stop as a teenager.
Frilly Keane: Cypress Mine – Sugar Beet God. So good live that Zig ‘n’ Zag covered it.