Home > FILLER! FILLER!! FILLER!!! > Your official Italy vs Ireland Euro 2012 playlist

Your official Italy vs Ireland Euro 2012 playlist

The game starts in a few minutes and Italy are going to get knocked out. This is what to listen to while it happens:

Apathy ft Emilio Lopez – It Takes A Seven Nation Army to Hold Us Back

Long before Roma fans were jacking Club Brugges’ sing-alongs (and, let’s be honest, the origin story of how a mid-tier indie club banger became the world’s biggest sports anthem is as confused and suspicious as “So they were told to sing some songs without swearing in, and ‘Delilah’ just happened to come on the pub jukebox”), Apathy knew what the deal was, flipping Jack White’s paean to fucking his pretend sister for this quintessentially “last days of undie rap” 2004 joint. Although it’s questionable if a rapper as pasty as Apathy should be making songs about the joys of Beckys like this. Apathy was last heard of in a hospital bed somewhere with half his bowels rotting away. Don’t Camu Tao/Party Arty on us, big man.

Some Italian Dude – Seven Nation Army

My father has this exact version of the song in a CD in his car, purchased from a presumably Eritrean stall owner at a Palermo market. It jostles for disc space with Europop versions of various pop cultural patriotic Italian joints (basically “Vindaloo” and  “World In Motion” for the children of Pitagora), but it never fails to make me laugh at the fact that one of the defining artworks of the early 2000s by a Serious Musician who wanted to carve his place in the annals of Serious Music is now known by my mother as “The Po Po Po Po Song”.

Andrea Bocelli and Sarah Brightman- Time to Say Goodbye (Con Te Partiro)

As you may hear in a forthcoming ILB special, I have a problem with a lot of “immigrant humour”, as it’s nearly always based on false assumptions: overbearing grandmothers, raucous family dinners and a cousin who works importing counterfeit shoes aren’t unique characteristics to your immigrant community, Italians, Pakistanis, Polaks, Kosovans, Nigerians, Pinoys… we all share them. I can write better Italian immigrant humour than Joe Avati with my fucking eyes closed. I mean, for instance, my mother, like most Italian mothers, has not pressed play on a single piece of music other than “Con Te Partiro” in the past decade. I’m pretty sure she knows it more thoroughly than she knows the rosary by now.

Union – You Are The Number 1

ITV’s theme to Euro 1992, a song that still gives me vivid flashbacks of Basile Boli’s bulging forehead veins. I seem to remember it being used by ITV for other footballing shows in the early 90s, but then I start thinking of Saint and Greavesie’s “Sport in Question” and start getting heart palpitations. Not on Spotify, although a band called “Union” are on there doing one of those cheap-cover-albums-for-playing-in-bars-and-in-movies full of PJ Harvey songs. “50ft Queenie” probably could have done with a sax break, tbh.

Gabry Ponte ft Little Tony – Figli di Pitagora

Gabry Ponte is one-third of Eiffel 65. Little Tony is arguably the world’s most famous person from San Marino (jostling with Massimo Bonini), who had a top 20 hit in England back in 1960 with “Too Good” before going on to become one of Italian rock and roll’s defining artistes. This is a song in which the latter sings a list of notable Italians (legendary comedy actor Toto, commedia dell’arte proponent Dario Fo, political scientist Niccolo Machiavelli) over a backing track by the former. Italian patriotism is an odd thing, few feel “Italian” and most identify with the region of their origin (Sicily, Tuscany, Campania). This song doesn’t do much to help.

The Wolfe Tones – The Rifles of the IRA

I have no real problem with the Irish, and it’s always unpleasant to have a deciding game resting against the hopes and aspirations of a country you vaguely respect. On the other hand, a 4-0 thrashing by Spain is what you get for not picking Kevin Kilbane. I used to live across the road from a bunch of strong Irish nationalist who would, once a month or so, get cunted on potcheen or whatever and start blaring the rebel songs. It gave me an appreciation for them, and I think maybe pro-IRA folk songs are the next big ironic rediscovery, so get on board now.

Val Doonican – Delaney’s Donkey

I don’t get this song. After all the fucking commotion, the donkey refusing to move, the dynamite, the mass invasion of the race course to get the beast moving, which takes forever… how can the donkey have won the race? No part of the song is actually taken up with the donkey running the race, as soon as the donkey starts moving it wins the race. Now, remember it’s a half-mile race, which is 4 furlongs, or underneath the length of the average sprint horse race. The average shit-tier horse would do six furlongs in 72 seconds. So let’s be generous and say 50 seconds for the horses in the race. The race would be over by the time Val started singing the first chorus. The donkey cannot win this race. This song is fucking bollocks.

Pill – Trap Goin’ Ham

Limp Bizkit – Rollin’

NOW I KNOW YOU BE LOVIN’ THIS SHIT RIGHT HERE: E-U-R-O BISCOTTO IS RIGHT HERE. A “biscotto”, as more learn’ed football fans will have discovered over the past few days, is a football match in Italy with the result… if not settled on  beforehand, then at least “baked in the oven”, usually an end of season match where a point will keep both teams out of harm’s way. 2-2 between Croatia and Spain tonight knocks Italy out. Italian Twitter wags have been nominating their “#top5biscotti” all day, and sadly few have plumped for the cantuccini, which with a nice vin santo makes a great end to a lazy Sunday meal.

Thomas Tantrum – Why The English Are Rubbish

Still, there’s always tomorrow’s game to laugh at instead.

  1. June 18, 2012 at 7:51 pm

    This is the first one Im pretty confident about. So disappointed no one thought of REAL TRAP SHIT til now.

    I went on a primary school outing to some sort of religious youth outfit once and we each had a special item to bring, one kid brought a Wolfe Tones compilation and, no lie, it had one of the earnest sweatervest oldsters doing the “raise the roof”.

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