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Blur - Oily Water (Food, 1993)

Post-Glasto and pre-, this had to be about . But what song? Watching that astonishing performance on Sunday night only reminded us of the scandalous amount of amazing tunes this band have. Seriously - how much fun is it going to be around the mainstage at Oxegen around 11pm on Friday 10th July?!

Anytime I'm in company discussing , I've always said , their hectic wee second record, is my favourite album by Albarn and co. Of course this is nonsense - is without doubt the superior collection - but that just seems like too obvious an answer, like saying Everything Must Go is the best album (something I also believe but seem somehow ashamed to admit).

Anyway, in the interest of picking a track some of you may not have heard and keeping things vaguely interesting, my Blur pick is an album track from my supposed (but not actual) favourite Blur record. It wasn't a single but it's an example of a wee gem tucked away, unfairly overshadowed by mammoth singles - in this case and .

Oh, and while we're on that - here's some more wee overlooked gems:

, from
, from
, from Parklife
, from
, from

But yes, Oily Water. Enjoy.

- I Can't Go To Sleep, feat. Isaac Hayes (Columbia, 2000)

It's pretty scandalous how good this track is, honestly.

My auntie once said that 'rap music' doesn't have soul. What absolute nonsense.

When comes in with the second verse, he's wailing. Seriously, listen to it.

"I can't go to sleep, I can't shut my eyes
They shot the father of his moms, killed him seven times
They shot Malcolm in the chest front of his little seeds
Jesse watched, as they shot King on the balcony"

He's in tears by the end. And that's before points out "the power is in your hands".

*** WARNING: The link below takes you to a video of the track in question, which contains explicit lyrics ***

.

Hip-hop has blood, sweat and tears. Hip-hop makes grown men cry. Hip-hop has soul.

Or it used to, anyway.

"Where's all my Newcastle people at? WHERE'S ALL MY NEWCASTLE PEOPLE AT?"

Thousands of people are going bananas in Donard Park, letting MC Maxim know EXACTLY where they are at, but I've just burst out laughing.

This is ludicrous. I used to play football in this exact spot, until I hit a certain age, when it became the setting for the occasional, erm... milkshake of a Friday night. My mum and dad still live about 2 minutes walk away and our dog Nelly's location of choice to do his wicked business is pretty much beneath that stage.

"The Voodoo people. The Newcastle people! Among the rolling hills! NEWCASTLE, hands in the air."

I can't stop laughing. It's been a weird day.

It's an amazing set up - lovely little arena, nice security and a surprisingly well behaved crowd. I'm here about six hours and I don't seeÌýso much as a scuffle. In 24 hours I'm told this park will be absolutely spotless. In fact, my dad swears it looks tidier than it did this time last week.

So we, the punters, kept up our end of the deal. Maybe now those who constantly whinged about the very concept of people having fun in this town, complaining to anyone who would listen and writing narky letters to the local press, will feel ashamed of themselves. And so they should.

The 'NIMBY' crew my dad calls themÌý- 'not in my back yard'. I can only assume that the single most disappointing thing about todayÌý- the lack of actual volume - was a result of their stinking attitude. SeriouslyÌý- I was front right for the , about 20 feet back from the speakers and was still able to have a conversation with my best mate's sister about seeing Prodigy play the Kings Hall on my 18th birthday.

During the summer, I would always hear the "Pipes & Drums" from my bedroom, yet my dad said he didn't hear a single whisper from Keith or MaximÌý- and he was out in the garden listening for it.

Despite the Prodigy giving it everything, as you'd expect, the atmosphere suffered. Keep in mind the bars shut at 10 and the gig curfew was at 11, yet someone decided this gig needed to be ridiculously quiet. Pathetic, really.

Pretending for a moment it was three times louder, it was incredible. Breathe, Voodoo People, Omen and Firestarter are all unleashed within about twenty minutes, by a five piece band who are not here to take it easy. They're on incredible form, as they should be, and everyone does their best to have some fun.

I'm just glad my day's nearly finished as the vein on my head had nearly burst with stress an hour earlier. After a catalogue of disasters trying to do my job (I'll not bore you) I was all set to interview Keith, Maxim and Liam at 8.30pm. They'd been great when I last spoke to them at Oxegen last year - funny, charming, enthusiastic, aggressive and determined all at the same time. So I was pretty excited.

At 8.15pm I get this message from their manager: "Road closed on way up, we're still maybe an hour away, still hope to get you a few minutes".

According to my (probably quite unreliable source), the band are the other side of roadworks somewhere near Clough. Oh dear.

I'm panicking slightly, knowing they're due on stage at 9.30pm. When they do arrive, I'm invited to meet them, but have a nightmare getting to their changing rooms. Deci, from the (who'd made an incredible attempt to steal the show during the day) claims he's been warned that no one is allowed near them. Even Deadmau5 (who remains the single most boring performer I've had the misfortune of experiencing) is on the other side of the fence surrounding the Prodigy's wee area. With his stupid hat.

Eventually I get in, but it's surely too late. The band are literally about to go on stage and are hyping themselves up. I'm mortified at being around them at such a crucial stage of their day. I've gatecrashedÌý- this isn't cool. Yet just as I'm heading back out to reality, their manager presents me with Liam Howlett, a man so legendary he's willing to give me a quick chat just before he danders up that ramp and onto the stage.

Here I am with Liam then, feeling more than a little self-conscious...

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Not exactly Parkinson, but given the circumstances I was extremely grateful they'd acknowledged me at all, even if the resulting chat was so short it's barely worth broadcasting. I love Liam. In fact, all of the Prodigy remind me of Ìý- they're all sound, down to earth and extremely charming gents who seem to feel almost obliged to come across as cocky and confident, when it doesn't necessarily suit them. They're playing a game, I guess. They're playing it very well.

So back to Maxim, on stage in Donard Park.

"This one goes out to all the golfers. Can I hear all the golfers? ROYAL! COUNTY! DOWN!!!!" *

Warrior's Dance kicks in and it kicks off once again.

"What about the Tropicana? Tropicana in the house?!" *

I leave a little early, to set up for what ends up one of the most fun nights DJing I've ever had, at an unofficial aftershow in a wee bar up the road. My mum checks it out, on her way home from a function at the golf club, and ends up dancing in the booth with me, to No Good (Start the Dance).

I'll say it again - it's been a very weird day.

Ìý

* Dramatisation. These particular phrases may not have actually been spoken ;-)

Still undecided about Slane on Saturday (seeing the perform tomorrow night in the park I used to play football in every day is too surreal a concept to miss and I'll be at on Monday night) but the whole hype about returning to the castle has made me smile a great deal.

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You see, my first ever gig was . It still ranks as the best gig I have ever been to.

They were supporting . Now, REM were the first band I properly fell in love with - for about six months leading up to this show I pretty much listened to nothing but them. When I think about it now, I was actually making myself rather ill. I was ridiculously excited - like a bride before her wedding. I talked about nothing else, frying everyone's head who dared come near me. I also threw up a lot the entire week before we headed to Co. Meath.

The night before the gig, I decided I needed to queue. So myself and the eight of us who'd headed downÌýwent to the gate, with a few drinks. We sat down and started to wait. A few other enthusiastic punters joined us. One guy had a guitar and could play pretty much all of Radiohead's latest album 'The Bends' - but I wasn't interested. I kept asking him to try and play 'Fall on Me' or even 'Find the River'. When he couldn't work out the chord structures I just sang them a cappella. No one joined in.

At around 3am it got cold. Despite my protests, everyone started drifting off back to the campsite. You might not believe this, readers, but I stayed put. On my own. For the entire night. I was first in that queue and I wasn't giving up my space, no matter what my bladder was telling me.

At around 8am, my friends came back, as did a few other punters. The queue started to become... well, a queue. Before that it was just me, on my own, freezing cold, insulated (and possibly being kept alive) by nothing but pure excitement. I could have lasted the night on the north pole.

The gates opened and the guy who took my ticket wasn't sure which bit to rip off, so he kind of stalled a bit and asked his mate. As a result, my mate Kev actually ended up getting in first. But I was right behind him.

I remember having the quickest wee ever, before sprinting down the hill, launching myself on the barrier, where I would stay for around seven hours. To this day I have no idea how I managed without food or water - I definitely don't remember getting either. A fair enough sacrifice given a picture published in the Irish Times of the front row the next day had myself right in the middle, my proof forever of an enormous coup.

Then Oasis came on, 80,000 people pushed down to the front all at once and I was popped out into the pit like a champagne cork. I did eventually make it back into the crowd and kind of near the front, but when they played 'Roll With It' (which still hadn't been released at this stage), it got so crazy Noel actually stopped playing and told the crowd to start looking after themselves. I got scared and stopped pushing my way to the barrier, staying about five people back.

By the time REM came on, I think it's the closest any human has ever came to just... imploding with absolute joy.

I was sleep deprived, totally lost from my friends, starving and dehydrated - absolutely in pieces. But during the opening medley of 'What's the Frequency Kenneth', 'Crush with Eyeliner' and 'Drive (funk version)' I was the happiest I would ever be.

Slane's an amazing place to see your heroes. I think I'm going to go now.

Amy McGarrigle writes...

Seen the Sasquatch festival dancing man? The lone dancer infected a whole field of people with his rhythmical moves to 'Unstoppable' by Santogold (and unstoppable he really was, illustrated by videos that track him dancing from morning to night).

And it's those moments of involuntary dancing that make me excited for the festival season. I'm not a big club goer or dance head, so usually I opt for gigs and the odd alternative indie schmindie late night dance-athon. But I truly love those moments when everybody is on the same wavelength.

So, I thought I'd have a stab at predicting those mass dancing moments for the upcoming festivals...

Oxegen
Pendulum: I'm not a big fan but I would love to be in the crowd for the hook in 'Propane Nightmare'. Forget the first minute or so... have a drink or something. But the point where it kicks in, phoaw! And then the singing part beings, relax... ignore... and then repeat.

Oxegen/Electric Picnic
2 Many DJs: There'll be too many moments to mention one!

Electric Picnic
The Sugarhill Gang: "Up jump the boogie to the bang bang boogie, let's rock, you don't stop
rock the riddle that will make your body rock" - can you argue with that??!

Live in the Park: Newcastle, Co. Down
The Prodigy: Last time I seen the Prodigy I remember fearing for my life. I got right up the front against the barrier - schweet! Until Maxim started to freak me out with his eyeballing theatrics and primitive scare tactics... insane but genius. I danced myself to safety.

Celtronic
Some great electronica, but I'm not sure what my dancing moment would be? I'm relying on Mr. Hamill, Mr. McClean,ÌýMr. Rigsy or youÌýlotÌýto fill me in. My ignorance is out...

Amy McGarrigle writes...

So the legends that are have just announced a show in Dublin in December. Can't see those tickets hanging around too long!

I was too young for Sonic Youth first time round, but I still remember buying my first Sonic Youth record.

It was on my school trip as a moody, depressed, teenager in Paris. My whole class were in some big music shop on Des Champs-Elysees when I decided to scarper to the darkened corner of indie-land where I found a bargain bin.

It was here that I picked up something what would change my notion of music forever. That something was 'Confusion Is Sex/Kill Yr Idols' by Sonic Youth. Having no idea of what was a good or bad Sonic Youth record, I bought the cheap CD expecting something typical of the grunge era.

Grunge, this was not! I think I recall feeling ill the first time I heard the record. It was abrasive, atonal, confrontational and completely alien to my poor fragile ears. I'd only started getting into music in a big way, with my introduction being and so far. This was, without any doubt, completely different.

But I persisted with it and eventually it didn't hurt my head anymore. Soon it made sense and I actually enjoyed listening to it. It may not have been the first of it's kind, but it certainly brought '' to a wider audience, introducing myself to a whole world of new music along the way.

The only downside was, I didn't realise Sonic Youth were anything other than a strange, paranoid, noise band for years. Somebody later tried to convince me Sugar Kane was by the same band. Nonsense I thought...

Legends.

Another classic from the ATL playlist vaults..

Bran Van 3000 - Drinking In LA (1997)

Just before inevitably breaks we feel a pressing need to inject some summertimeÌýbeats into the ATL blog. We all know this could be as good as it gets for a while soÌýas its still remotely possible to chargrill something outside without the need forÌý2 puffa jackets and a ski hat, we thought you couldÌýmaybe indulge us..

Ìý

Ìý

As the awesome canon is impossible to get past the editorial compliance robots, we thought we'd go for something that won't automaticallyÌýmake our P45s magically appear.

were an indie-electronica collective from Montreal Canada, a hippy hip-hop , if you will, whoÌýproduced a series of largely forgetable musical moments in a career which woud appear to survive to this day, though details are sketchy. However, their debut single 'Drinking in LA', released in Canada in early '97 was something of aÌý gem.Ìý

Its so it needs braces. The vocals are near on sublime, the beats roll hazily by and the lyrics are a mournful lament on passing youth and theÌýwasting of dreams as the stretch towardsÌýour thirties narrows.

It was released in the UK and Ireland in March 1999Ìýmaking aÌýmodest dent in the charts until a beer advert propelled it to the lofty heights of no.3. The band must have suffered vertigo.

Ìý

Well last week it seemed that everyone in NI had their own personal rain goblin, but this week? Yowsah! It's positively balmy and the ATL office can finally open the window and get rid of that hard-to-shift, lingering odour that only boys can produce.

In honour of that rare golden sphere that has appeared in the sky above Northern Ireland we blog the topÌýfive songs about sunshine. It would be ten, but we're off to get white lemonade and make ice cream floats.

5. Wham - Club Tropicana

Well if a brass section falling into a swimming pool mid-parp doesnt tickly you, then we feel bad for your soul. This is the ultimate 80s cheesey Club 18-30 single. And they were airline pilots the whole time!! Sorry, did we reveal the intelligent plot twist?

4. Bob Marley - Sun is Shining

Ah Saint Bob. He stopped a civil war you know. He also smoked more than Ivor the Engine and occasionally like to be very factual about the weather.ÌýNot a lot of people know this but he actually ghost-wrote 'Snow is Falling' for Shakin' Stevens. One of the previous sentences contains fibs.

3. Roy Ayers - Everybody Loves the Sunshine

This one is a no-brainer for anyone who has ever even flirted with the smooth world of jazz, but it still never quite became a mainstream classic. The plinky riff, the right-on vocals and the swirling synths totally catch the blue sky feel. Obviously, Roy is incorrect with his sweeping generalisation. Albinos, the morbidly obese and vampires are among the small but significant amount of groups who actively dislike the sunshine.

2. Weezer - Island in the Sun

Hip hip. Rivers Cuomo, we would follow you toÌýyour mythicalÌýIsland in the Sun, or indeed the very centre of the sun itself, such is the spellbinding force of your whimsical indie manner. Top marks for having a beautifully pointless guitar solo. Presumably it was just too sunny to bother writing any more lyrics. You beautiful, lazy man - we would salute you, but that seems like so much effort right now...

1. Nina Simone - Here Comes the Sun

She may have resembled a prune, and by all accounts could be as prickly as a cactus but my word she could sing. Not with one of those shake you fillings style soul diva voices, but a fragile, emotionally charged vocal that could open you up in a heartbeat. She makes George Harrison's sense of wonderment take on a wholly more pained and frail quality. Take a bow, Ms. Simone!

Let us know your thoughts and alternative charts...