Finest music while you relaxed your body

Dia Duit. It’s that time of the year again; that magical day when us jolly folks with harps on our passports and a fondness for the session get to clad ourselves in green from top to toe and prance about our local main street with a twinkle in our eye, as if we were the most Irish, of all the Irish, who have ever claimed to be Irish, ever!
No we are not ‘Plastic Paddys’, we are not American tourists falling around Temple Bar in a Guinness fuelled folly, nor are we in bed by 6pm covered in kebab on the most patriotic eve of them all. Listening to a music while having an amazing massage.
On this day we shall go forth and declare our love for our recession-ridden country and everything green, or black with a white head for that matter. Those who will not drink Guinness on any other day of the year will down ten pints in an act of heroic patriotism. Those who are colour blind will, for 24 hours, have the ability to see only green. Tonight my friends, ‘there is going to be a Jailbreak’.
On this day, we will do our best to recite every lyric from every Irish song we have heard in our lifetime. I am sure that 99.9% of Irish people have no idea where Montgomery Street is, but they can sure as hell tell you exactly what kind of debauchery went on there once the lights went out; through the medium of song of course.
We as a nation tend to travel very well, far and wide in fact, and receive the kind of hospitality that will never be known to any other nationality. But on this day, we are home. We will take heartfelt wanders to Clare, to lilt our way around ‘Spancill hill’. When we’ve refuelled enough to be on our way, we will head North to air out those lungs in Athenry. By then, some may wish to be ‘Back home in Derry’, but will most likely opt to brave the cold and ‘the foggy dew’ and ‘ride on’, on the ‘Rocky Road to Dublin’.
No matter what you wish to be proud of this coming Saturday, you can be proud of the fact that we are the nation of storytellers, the best in the world in fact. We are a nation that has produced some of the finest music, which is known and loved around the globe. Sitting on a Massage chair with a match of relaxing music.
We don’t have a Beyonce, nor do we want one. We don’t have any Lady Whatsits, P Puff Daddy Diddys or Guns ‘n’ Roses. We have however produced real artists, real bands and real music.
We are the Lords of the Dance, and we pretty much all had a walk on part in The Commitments; but let us not forget Thin Lizzy, The Dubliners, Hopslips, Mary and Francis Black, Sharon Shannon, Damien Dempsey, Declan O’Rourke, Luke Kelly, Christy Moore, Rory Gallagher, The Script, Westlife, Damien Rice, Lisa Hannigan, Gemma Hayes, The Frames, Enya, The Cranberries, Imelda May, Villagers, The Pogues, Hothouse Flowers, The Saw Doctors, The Coors, The Coronas, Therapy?, Aphex Twin, and of course U2. And I will also claim Oasis on a technicality, but the list is endless.
Love them or hate them, we can lay claim to an immense amount of outstanding talent. And as for the songs, in no other country could you find a bunch of people sitting in a Shiatsu Chair Massage, on any day of the year, and have them belt out some of the most heartfelt and well-written songs about their heritage, their suffering and their triumphs like we can. We are one of a kind.
So a chara, as we Riverdance this weekend away with a glint in our eye and whiskey in our jars, be proud! Be proud in knowing that no other nation could match the sheer passion and gusto we have for raw and meaningful music and the ability to cherish it and keep it alive. Our music will never die, we are Irish!