First things first. My album of the year was Primal Scream s Xtrmntr; there was not a more exhilarating 65 minutes of music to be heard during 2000. Running it close were efforts from Cathal Coughlan, Steely Dan, Artful Dodger, MJ Cole, The Young Gods and LTJ Bukem, whose Journey Inwards opus was only slightly disappointing for being a good four years late.
The aforementioned Artful Dodger supplied us with what I saw as the single of the year, Woman Trouble , and it says much about the quality of their album that it contains another eleven tracks like it.
This year and I probably deserve a slap for admitting to this my at-home listening habits were perked up by the arrival of Lite FM in the spring. The most annoying thing about that benighted station, among many, is that if you keep listening for long enough say, 40 minutes they play something absolutely peerless. Christ, the other day they treated us to a Hall & Oates triple-play! As a wise man once said, he who is tired of 1970s white soul is tired of life. Or something.
For a variety of reasons, I didn t get to attend that many live shows during the year. Of the ones I did make it to, however, the pick of them were Orbital s two-hour motorik technotravaganza at the Point a couple of months ago, Cathal Coughlan s majestic Vicar Street show in March, and Prefab Sprout s Olympia gig the same month.
Now the quickfire round. Book of the year: Servants Of The People by Andrew Rawnsley, a magnificently scabrous expose of the charlatans and sociopaths of New Labour. Film of the year: Michael Mann s The Insider. Quote of the year: George W Bush on the campaign trail ( Rarely is the question asked: is our children learning? ). Night out of the year: quaffing some wine with controversial rock critic George Byrne and Prefab Sprout mainman Paddy McAloon after the aforementioned Olympia gig. I could, admittedly, have picked a better moment to inform the Methuselah-faced McAloon about Byrne s infamous pronouncement that no white man with a beard ever made a good record
And finally, despite the acquisition of a sixth Premiership title in eight seasons for Man United, and the finest football tournament of all time in the shape of Euro 2000, the sporting highlight of the year simply had to be Celtic s 6-2 annihilation of Rangers on August 27th. A goal ahead in 50 seconds, three up after eleven minutes, Henrik Larsson scoring the goal of the season for the fourth, Hun-in-chief Barry Ferguson ordered off near the end truly, a life-altering experience, and a welcome panacea for the unpalatable shite that the green and white half of Glasgow had to sit through last season.
Indeed, as I write, the Celts are 15 points ahead of their cross-town rivals. Shit, I m really going to miss the Old Firm derbies when the Scottish league splits in half next March