Hate of the Moment: PrntSpleen’s Anti-Plastic Paddy’s Day Guide

Mild inebriation is somewhat mandatory every March 17th. No matter what your stance on Guinness, the Irish, the Catholic church or globally commercialized holidays, it’s hard to deny the fun to be had with a good celebratory piss up. Any excuse, eh?

Quick! Look! A whole herd of virgins!

Of course plenty will abstain from the whole emerald alco-carnival, which is perfectly fine – not all of us need an excuse, nor could give two family buckets of fuck – but for the rest of us ready, willing and psyched to go head to head with His Honour, the ceramic magistrate, there’s only one proper way to do St. Paddy’s Day. And that doesn’t include The Dropkick Murphys.

The verdict is in.

It’s hardly a stretch of the truth to say that year after year the same old overdone, scarcely-even-fucking-Irish-at-all songs dominate the day’s listening. You’ve got the quasi-celtic, Boston trad-punk of the aforementioned ‘Murphys, along with them their more loathesome  ogre cousins Flogging Molly on the Americanised side of things, churning out novelty rock jigs for a once a year payoff. Planning on playing Green Day? How about instead, you do a literal Riverdance, and drown yourself?

Then there’s the Christ awful clichés. Whiskey In The Jar, The Pogues, U2, Thin Lizzy, The Cranberries, bastarding B*witched. Every single year the culprits get less leprechaun, more leprosy.

Even our most heavily exported north of the border representatives are similarly played out. Which is why I’ve deemed it necessary to inject some new, HIV-negative blood into your standard St. Paddy’s playlist.

The Power Hour

A globally recognised sporting symbol

For those unfamiliar with the format, Power Hour is the ultimate in lash Olympics. It’s a fool proof, fully-customizable time-triggered sloshathon that’ll get you anywhere between moderately marinaded and ring-a-ding dyslexic in sixty swift minutes.

The rules are fairly straightforward. Knock back a shot of something sensibly percentaged (beer, cider, fierce concoction) every sixty seconds for an hour, every time the song changes. ‘Spiritual healing’, or straight shorts, every tenth milestone are optional, but wholly encouraged. Doesn’t sound too difficult? It never does on paper but by the bottom of the hour it’ll have unexpectedly become a test of endurance. How much carbonated starch can one man happily consume? You’re about to find out.

The App

Without the right software you’ll never be properly equipped for the Power Hour. Half the fun is the musical ying to your poison’s yang, otherwise it’d just be relentless barley pounding for sixty excruciatingly quiet minutes of your life. Did I mention additional participants are absolutely required? Wherever you are, whatever you do, don’t try this at home, on your own. This isn’t supposed to be an exercise in depression.

There’s an absolute dick load of Power Hour apps out there. Don’t be fooled though, most of them are about as functional as a Dubliner on March 18th, round about donkey balls o’clock. The most dependable one I’ve so far stumbled across is simply called Power Music Hour. It’s not free, but it’ll go a long way for $0.99, and that’s still around a nineteenth the price of a pint in the Republic.

The Music

Make no mistake, there’s a certain craftsmanship required in creating a Power Hour playlist. In some circles it’s prided as a finely honed trade. For beginners, sixty songs are ideal. As well as fundamentally crucial to the entire game. Everything from song selection, sequence and cue up time have a role in how the hour will unfold. The suggestions below aren’t your shit heap-standard staples of Jour de Patrice, but certainly pack an appropriate enough amount of Irish heft for the occasion.

Shot #1) And So I Watch You From Afar – Search: Party: Animal

• Level of drunkenness: Powering up the Steamboat’s rudder.
• Drink: Cement Mixer – 3/4 Irish Cream, 1/4 lime juice.

The title of this instrumental blitzkrieg alone practically condenses this entire article into three words, describing in the most elementary of terms how your Paddy’s Day should progress. What happens between steps two and three? That is for you to find out.

Shot #10) Not Squares – Release The Bees

• Level of drunkenness: On your way bai
• Drink: Dublin Handshake – 1/2 oz Baileys, 1/2 oz Irish Whiskey, 3/4 oz Sloe Gin.

A mainstay of the locally-minded Belfast dancefloor for the best part of two years, the fact that this electro goliath stretches past seven minutes is sadly irrelevant here. Choose your excerpt wisely.

Shot #20) Pocket Billiards – Belfast Town

• Level of drunkenness: Half cut!
• Drink: Belfast Car Bomb – 1/2 pint stout, 1/2 oz Jameson Whiskey, 1/2 oz Irish Cream.

Dead on ska-punk that might just be the capital’s unofficial anthem and is always capable of inciting the only kind of riot welcomed with open arms in Northern Ireland.

Shot #30) Team Fresh – Recipe For Disaster

• Level of drunkenness: Blocked Lesnar
• Drink: Buck Mental – an unspecific Buckfast/gin/cider death alloy and Glasgowbury festival tradition. Tastes better being torpedoed towards your face via supersoaker.

Firing Bucky-fuelled lyrical missiles on all cylinders, Team Fresh might be seen as a bit of a novelty act, but the Causeway giants never fail to tear the fucking house down when required. And who can say no when a mob of MCs roar ‘Fuck it, let’s get plastered!’?

Shot #40) Here Comes The Landed Gentry – Leadbelly

• Level of drunkenness: Rote clean aff!
• Drink: Bushmills Fuzzy Valencia – 1/2 oz Bushmills Whiskey, 3/4 oz Amaretto, 5 oz OJ

Stomping rhythms and a raspy bellowing choir of vocals make the ‘Gentry the most hefty darn tootin’ rockabilly blues mob keepin’ ‘er lit from Derry. This mountain-top edition from Glasgowbury 2010 strips their signature garage romp down to it’s wee acoustic briefs but still hits the spot nicely. Those reiterations of ‘leadbelly‘ can’t be helping at this stage though, so sink your drink ‘like a stone‘ and strap in for the final third.

Shot #50) Lafaro – Boke

• Level of drunkenness: Snottered.
• Drink: Buck Daniels – 1/2 Buckfast, 1/2 Jack Daniels.

“Boke” is Ulster talk for a wet heave and if the River Bile isn’t flowing freely by now you’ve did yourself proud, but it’s not over yet. The nauseatingly dirty riffs of Lafaro are enough to make even those without Tesco finger paints green in the face. Weathering this drop-d noise storm though just might be enough to see you through to the finish line.

Shot #60) Mental Deficiency – Get Her Home, Get Her Bucked

• Level of drunkenness: Stocious.
• Drink: Celtic Frost – 1-1/2 oz Celtic Crossing, 1/2 oz Frangelico, 2 scoops of Vanilla Ice Cream, 1/2 scoop of ice.

Yes sir you’re victorious and while you might feel a little on the wrong side of full on quadriplegia, you’ve henceforth earned the right to some hard won female companionship. So get her home, and get her bucked. You’re the Man of the Hour.

There you have it. While St. Patrick’s Day might not be much more than a nationwide doctor’s note for brain cell genocide, there’s an easy way to avoid the stereotypical banalities and enjoy it for what it is, without the need for that bloody Dropkick Murphys song.

PREDITOR’S NOTE: And if those aren’t enough to get you started, check out St. Paddy’s full playlist below. Greener than lizard’s knob rot! #RANDOMOFTHEOPERA!

https://embed.spotify.com/?uri=spotify:user:biblicallyawesome:playlist:1vFVUYPSj1cNJVBjxXmRHv