The best Irish songs of all time, numbers 40-31: featuring Fontaines DC, Denise Chaila, Aslan and the Cranberries

The feature generated a huge response, partly because the resulting list wasn’t just one person’s opinion. It was a top 50 that took a lot of time to compile, but the results, we think, were worth it.

Many readers had the same response: do the same for Irish songs.

We listened, and here it is.

As with the albums, we have asked 50 people who really know their stuff — musicians, gig promoters, critics, broadcasters, DJs, music PRs, arts podcasters — to come up with their top Irish songs ever in order of preference. A score was then applied — 10 points to the song at number one, down to one point for the song in 10th place — and the results totted up for the final rundown.

There were ground rules, of course. No songs from overseas artists of Irish extraction. Sorry Morrissey, Paul McCartney, Kate Bush… Songs from international bands featuring an Irish musician were permitted. Cover versions were also allowed and the song did not have to have been released as a single.

The top 50 is being published in instalments on Independent.ie this week, which started yesterday with numbers 50-41. The full rundown will feature in next Saturday’s special souvenir edition of the Irish Independent Review — alongside an interview with the writer of the number one song, as well as an alternative top 50, in chronological order, culled from the songs that didn’t quite make the original half-century.

Happy reading — and listening.

40 The Cranberries, Linger (1993)

When you consider that the Cranberries had barely hit their 20s when they wrote and recorded their first LP, it makes Linger all the more impressive.

The song, from the Limerick outfit’s debut album Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can’t We?, has aged like a fine wine. A winning combination of the production nous of Stephen Street (the Smiths/Blur), those majestic sweeping strings and Dolores O’Riordan’s achingly beautiful vocal performance make it a modern masterpiece. — LM

39 Fontaines DC, Boys in the Better Land (2019)

Guttural, swaggering and very real. The Irish band we had all been waiting for delivered this shot across the bows on their celebrated debut album Dogrel all of five years ago. Frontman Grian Chatten’s flat Dublinese speak-singing sounds both sullen and dazed amid splashing percussion and guitars that flash from jumpy rhythm parts to power-chording lead. This bolt of post-punk romanticism sounds like Shane MacGowan downing pints with Mark E Smith. — AC

38 My Bloody Valentine, Only ­Shallow (1991)

The opening track on MBV’s second album is an alt-rock staple and a stunning achievement from the band’s visionary leader Kevin Shields.

Bilinda Butcher’s ethereal (if hard to decipher) vocals sit atop Shields’ distinctive guitar sound — the track is a key example of his ‘glide guitar’ technique — and relentless percussion from Colm Ó Cíosóig. It’s a sound collage typical of Loveless, voted best Irish album ever in the Irish Independent’s poll last year. — JM

37 Aslan, Crazy World (1993)

It is a song that has practically become a staple of any Irish gathering: weddings, funerals, house parties. Everyone knows the words of Aslan’s hugely popular single, with its eternally hummable melody and rousing chorus.

Even so, it remains an underestimated gem. Christy Dignam’s conflicted lyrics, directed at his family while acknowledging his own troubles, add a layer of poignancy that is often disregarded during those big singalongs. — LM

36 A House, Endless Art (1992)

Released as a single from the Dubliners’ third album, I Am The Greatest, Endless Art is a beloved Irish classic, its popularity boosted by an inventive stop-motion video.

“All art is quite useless, according to Oscar Wilde,” declaims Dave Couse, before listing an assortment of artists and their birth and death dates over a shoegazey distorted guitar riff and some repurposed Beethoven (Symphony No 5). Sprinkled with magic production dust by the mighty Edwyn Collins. — RD

35 Whipping Boy, Twinkle (1995)

Burning brightly, if all too briefly, the Dublin quartet were the most thrilling Irish rock band of the mid-1990s.

Their second album, Heartworm, has proved especially enduring and of its many great tracks, this potent rocker holds a special grip. “She’s the only one for me,” sings Ferghal McKee, in a song shot through with menace and foreboding. “You’re going to pay for all the hate I’m giving.” — JM

34 For Those I Love, I Have A Love (2021)

David Balfe’s debut single is a powerful meditation on loss and grief following by the sudden death of his friend and fellow artist Paul Curran.

Taken from his self-titled Choice Prize-winning album, the track combines plaintive piano, shimmering electronics, spoken-word vocals, conversational excerpts, synths and keys to create a potent reflection on the devastating nature of bereavement, and the intense love and joy of close friendship. — RD

33 Denise Chaila, Chaila (2020)

Zambian-Irish hip-hop artist Denise Chaila grew up with people mispronouncing her name. On this startling single, she unapologetically puts her detractors in their place.

Chaila nods to her African heritage with zingers like “Don’t need your Concern if you’ll look at me and see a Trócaire kid”, simultaneously encompassing chest-thumping bravado and a sense of vulnerability. As statements of intent go, it’s both devastatingly clever and insanely catchy. — LM

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32 Sultans of Ping FC, Where’s Me Jumper? (1993)

One of the great earworm songs by any Irish act: once heard, never forgotten. It remains an absurdist anthem, beloved by each new generation — play this song at a wedding party, and watch the guests jump around with abandon.

“At first the band refused to play the song because they thought it was a bit crap,” frontman Niall O’Flaherty recalled, “but they’ve come round now.” And the Corkonians are still playing it. — JM

31 My Bloody Valentine, You Made Me Realise (1988)

Before Dublin-London pioneers MBV conjured up cathedrals of sound and vaporous dream states on their still peerless Loveless album, they cooked up this art-punk racket from their astonishing third EP.

Their first release on Creation Records was the beginning of something very bruised and very beautiful. You Made Me Realise is an exhilarating sonic shakedown that will leave your windowpanes rattling, your chandeliers tinkling — and you shaking. — AC