And the winner is…

In December, in a fit of Christmas-competition-organising generosity, we asked you lot - truly the best users a website could ask for - to tell us how 2002 was for you, in 400 words or less. You answered (in your droves). We selected three runners-up... and one winner, whose front hall will soon be thumping with the sound of the 30 Hot Press Critics’ Albums Of The Year coming through his letterbox and whose 400 fantastic bons mots you can read below.

Stay bookmarked to hotpress.com for further fab competitions. In the meantime, we’ll leave you in the capable hands of guest writer, Hot Press Critics’ Albums Of The Year winner and 2002 survivor Eamonn Tracey:

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Winner:

Eamonn Tracey's 2002

Kids don’t like stuff ‘The Kids’ like. Early January – I attempt the role of Cool Uncle, buying Hives and Strokes CDs for my teenage nephews to make them the envy of their rural schoolyard. They stare at my gifts as if I’ve given them six months of double Irish homework wrapped in the rotting carcass of a diseased yak. Mother removes the Strokes CD, with androgynous arse art, to some higher shelf, out of sight of young, potentially masturbating minds. Small victory for rock and roll.

Nobody I know votes in May. Democracy is so passé. Who could be bothered being so judgmental? Most of them aren’t even celebrities.

The Frames in Dublin Castle and then later at Vicar St. finally convince a critical mass of cool Dubliners that there is a genuinely great band in their own city. About time, folks.

June – Roy and Mick outstrip the Buddha in achieving unified group consciousness. For a week everyone in the entire country feels as if their parents are breaking up messily. They say they love us and that it’s all for the best but we still feel that somehow, it’s our fault. €10 says if it had happened a week before the election, rather than a week after, Bertie would have raced to Saipan with Roy and Sir Alex to broker a reconciliation.

The Strokes in the Olympia prove that sometimes you shouldn’t believe the hype about the hype – the band can still be glorious. Material getting a bit thin on those singles, though, eh, chaps?

Trying to buy somewhere to live all year. Imagine you’re buying a bag of crisps. You see them advertised at €1. When you get inside they tell you that the crisps will cost €1.20. Somebody behind you shouts €1.30! The Crispman, smelling blood, now insists on €1.50. If he doesn’t get it in the next five minutes he’s going to eat the crisps himself. Pawning your soul, you stump up €1.50, but the crisps are sold for €2 to a crisp investor who splits them between six students paying for the privilege by doing sufficient part-time work
to ensure their education is a sham.

November – close friends begin ‘outing’ themselves as Coldplay fans, declaring they’d always liked them, their new album is outstanding and that Chris Martin is an important high-pitched voice in rock and roll. Travis-esque backlash ahoy, captain!

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Hats off now to our three runners-up, as well. In no particular order, here they are:

Runner-up: Ronan Fitzgerald’s 2002

It was probably around April that I started to get bored of every single article about the music I love being framed with "despite the recent crisis in dance music" or "this will only add to the crisis". It’s clear to anyone who’s actually been to a club this year that musical crises and commercial ones are entirely different things. Translation: I CAN’T MAKE A LIST OF THE RECORDS I LOVED THIS YEAR BECAUSE THERE ARE TOO MANY. Yeah, that was a rant, but it’s nice to be ranting about the writing and not the music for once.

What stands out? Well I could list off so many things individually without ever hitting the bigger picture. So what do my highlights have in common? The Tivoli opening in Dublin, X-Press 2 and David Byrne, Underworld at Creamfields, Orbital at Glastonbury. I guess it’s clear having spent a year downloading, reading and writing about dance music that 2002 was the year it changed my life.

I mean 12 months ago I wouldn’t have dreamed of even using the phrase "changed my life" when talking about music. The fact is that dance music now dominates my social life as much as the times when I’m walking down the street with headphones on. Because that’s the nature of it.

And since this is an article written by a Hot Press reader and not a writer then so what if I am writing as a fan and not as a hack. I am a fan! Maybe most of the people reading this will never understand repetitive bleeping or paying money to see one man mix records together, or the fact that this article was going nowhere until I turned my stereo on. But I think everyone can appreciate someone else’s passion for something, even if they don’t "get" the thing itself.

So how do I wrap up the year? Obviously some ‘Weak Become Heroes’ style shoutouts are the way to go. Irish DJs Philth and the Redsettaz, ‘Two Months Off’ by Underworld, ‘Take Me With You’ by Cosmos, Jon Carter, Erick Morillo, Orbital, Michael Eavis, Dutch Gold, and the Tivoli nightclub.

If the year 2002 was a footballing nation, it would be Brazil.

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Runner up: Derek Dunne’s 2002

Little Green Bastards (creme le menthe and Baileys): the way 2002 started and finished, and a complete cunt to get off your clothes. Galway, Lisbon, Brussels, London and Thailand, capped off with two almighty weddings, a tour of the year in short sharp shocks. Valentine’s Day, Cillian Murphy and Flo Mongomery in the Gate, the wankers that clamped my car outside and the flurry of pints in McGowans afterwards. Annie crawling from the bathroom and the horrendous journey to Galway the following day, to do it all again.

New horizons in Mac Finn football in Cavan, inevitably shit upon by our team’s drinking culture and the stubborness of the GAA. (I mean who the fuck has the first round of the championship on the weekend of Witnness??) Roy the spoiled child, and Robbie the legend, Mick’s face when the German onion sack was rattled and the knot in my stomach during the Spanish inquisition. The resurgance of Ulster in GAA, the Aussie rucks in Croker, Porn Kings in Roscommon, Colin Corkery sticking it to a certain Mr Spillane and the dismal displays from the men of Breffini.

Thailand at 06.30am on a Sunday morning, everyone assuming I was Paul Scholes and Annie fighting with Tuk Tuk drivers over fares. A trip to the jungle on elephants with four mad yankees and then getting hammered in Chiang Mai, hence missing the Full Moon party! Getting caught in 48 hours of torrential rain, on Railay Beach and burning the socks of myself in Ko Samui, hearing that Armagh won the All Ireland and going on the piss with a Scotsman to celebrate.

Late nights in Whelans, Ian Brown at Witnness, that godawful smell as we left after seeing David Kitt conquer Fairyhouse and Oasis showing themselves as the pricks that they are. The terrible sound at the Chilis, Mundy standing aloft in many venues, singing about his pocket trout. Glen Hansard, teaching the world to sing with Mic, John Brown’s Jimmy Cakers leading us astray and my li’l sister’s name shoulder to shoulder with The Rednecks and Creative Controle at Leagues' brainchild Wonky. Mike Skinner’s classic manoeuvres and the Dave Grohl coup to take over the world. The Stone Roses rumours, and DJ Shadow’s Private Press. Tommy Tiernan for "I like to run" and the Big Yin's biography for saving my sanity. The massive kick in the ass received by the insurance crooks, and BOOOO to inflation, rising house prices and the price of soup! Who needs to get drunk anyway?

The everchanging face of the Dublin scene, with all my friends dotted around the world, drinking lots and living out of vans, the driver of that gold Merc in Brixton and the clan still in the Emerald Isle. For the
stories and the cards, to the driver of the big yellow bus, JJ's red head and him going like the clappers, the armchair monster and all in 101, Dan and Co in Caroline’s, Annie’s Angels, the Ryefield Lodgers and to my Chucks, thanks for 2002.

Never judge a man 'til you've walked a mile in his shoes. Then you don't give a fuck, as he's a mile away and you have his shoes.

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Runner-up: Emmett Murphy's 2002

It seemed like the world tiptoed into 2002. Fear of terrorism, economic gloom and rumblings in the Middle East seemed all-pervasive. I had to keep my head down too, with my final exams in UCC in May. I graduated in September, but there were many distractions along the way…

2002 was a great year for Irish music. Damien Rice released the best debut Irish album in 21 years, and I loved watching his successes throughout the year. There were world-class albums too from Mundy, Nina Hynes, Gemma Hayes and the late, great, Mic Christopher. The Frames continued to wow audiences with their gigs, and I can’t help thinking that Ireland is not only home to the best band in the world, in U2, but we might also have the second best.

My disappointment that Roy Keane didn’t play in the world cup was almost (but not quite - I am from Cork after all!) negated by watching the Irish team play not just with pride, but
world-class skill as well. We should also be proud of Clifton Wrottesley who came within half a second of winning us our maiden medal in the Winter Olympics.

I felt even greater pride in being Irish when I read about Caoimhe Butterly, the girl who was shot by Israeli soldiers in Jenin while trying to escort unarmed Palestinian children to safety.

Bono continued to show me why he will always be my greatest hero, not just for writing great music, but fighting for basic human rights in Africa. He campaigned tirelessly for debt-relief
and increased trade, as well as the eradication of the HIV/AIDS pandemic that is crippling Africa every single day. It seems that 2003 will see much warfare around the world, but surely
this will be the year’s most important, and urgent, fight. My favourite memory from 2002 is meeting Bono in Dublin in October.

Entering 2003 I sense the same fears that characterised the world a year ago. This year even the Irish soccer team is in trouble. However, I feel more optimistic and believe Ireland has
a lot to offer in 2003. Quality Irish musicians such as Damien Rice and the Frames seem destined for international success. Ireland will host the Special Olympics, the first time it has
been held outside of the USA. And Bono, along with Irish aid agencies, will lead the fight for Africa.

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