Cast your minds back dear readers, to the heady days of late 90s big beat. Despite its reputation now, some great things were happening. After Prodigy and Chemical Brothers kicked the front door of the Acid House well and truly in, the early releases of Skint Recordings, Wall of Sound and artists such as Propellerheads, Jon Carter, Bentley Rhythmn Ace and even the Lo-Fidelity Allstars were now reaching the top of the charts. The coffin of indie was firmly nailed shut after the traumatic death rattle of Britpop, while rock was a ghostly memory.

A small Belfast club called Breakdown, upstairs at the Front Page was the epicentre of the NI version of Big Beat and our version of the Albany - all sticky floors, dark corners and a low enough ceiling to thump. Booking the likes of Fatboy Slim, Les Rythmes Digitales, DJ Krush and all of the aforementioned ne'erdowells and more, promoter Gary Mcguigan, aided and abetted by Shep, attracted those out of favour with the newly yuppified club scene of the times and also those alienated by the overt aggression of underground techno. In short, these folks just wanted to party. Breakdown eventually outgrew the tiny Donegall St. space but was never quite the same as when the mixer would blow from the roof dipping sweat into its workings.

One forgotten character who played a significant role in all of this madness was the oft-maligned Deejay Punk Roc. His productions were patchy, his DJ skills werent those of contemporary legends but for some reason, Breakdown loved him, and he loved the club too. Even when practically overnight the entire roster started reverting to house music, Punk Roc would still be guaranteed a turn in Belfast. The scene here was never as current as London or even perhaps Dublin, but in terms of a genuine reaction to music, and a crowd less affected by the style press it was probably mannah from heaven. Yeah we were in a little time warp, but so what?

This single was one of his finest hours, and just check out the cameo appearance from Spaced and Royle Family's Jessica Stevenson. ATL recommends you run about for at least half an hour to work up some perspiration, then chuck a bucket of water onto the roof for that authentic Breakdown c.1998 feel.

Freq Nasty - Boomin' Back Atcha ft Phoebe One (Botchit and Scarper, 1999)

Yes yes yes, now we have the Presets and Cut Copy (we shan't even enter the Pendulum debate *yawn*) but back in the late 90's Antipodean electronica was pretty boggin', let's be honest, with a few notable one-off exceptions. Freq Nasty was one of the first to actually make some decent recrods on a regular basis. The dreadlocked Kiwi moved to London and pretty much defined the nascent breaks scene along with the likes of the Botchit crew, Rennie Pilgrem and Adam Freeland.

Freq's debut album was a mash of retro sci-fi paranoia, scuzzy broken beats and an irresistable sense of the dancefloor. This track was neither Nu Skool Breaks, house, hip-hop or anything else to hang your cliches upon. It was fresh, funny and utterly infectious. With Phoebe One throwing it down in outstanding form on the mic, its the soundtrack to imminent invasion of Earth by leggy Amazonian Martian chicks. Its a wonky zombie rave stomp from the future, which has just GOT to be a cool thing, baby. This track is 10 years old. Let's all join hands and weep... *sob*

ATL recommends you turn this up on your 8k rig (goes boom boom).

I'm a dopey big child, as some of you may know, so it shouldn't come as a huge surprise that I am easily entertained by bright colours and big flashy things.

Hence my recent declaration that The Chemical Brothers are the greatest live act on the planet. Exhibit A for the defence...

I love going to watch the Chemical Brothers. Noisy rave, huge screens with mad, creepy, silly pictures and spangly lights that explode all over your brain - seriously - what's not to like?!

Every few months on a local forum I spend far too much time on, I'll get into a row about the supposed validity of the Chemical Brothers live show. Other posters are hung up on the lack of actual performance/musianship on the night, on Tom and Ed's part. They'll also argue that the shows are too similar, that those visuals don't change from night to night.

Not only is that misleading, it's also totally irrelevant in my book. I've watched the Chemical Brothers around twenty times, and while certain visual loops and motifs have been in their sets for years, each time I've seen them has been equally wonderful for various different reasons - maybe location, the atmosphere or who I'm with.

When you're experiencing an audio-visual treat like this, those things all become extra important.

Then there's Daft Punk. Seriously like, watch this...

Their pyramid, which they toured in 2006 and 2007, was officially declared the HQ for fun, aka 'Craic Central', by me, just now. I actually went to California on an errand to see this pyramid in 2006, having been told they would perform in it just seven times, only for them to eventually bring it to Ireland. Twice. D'oh!

I don't care if they're debating between Times New Roman and Futura for the short novella they're going to write during 'One More Time'. I don't even care if it's the two guys who work in their patisserie round the corner from Thomas Bangalter's house and the real Daft Punk are at home watching Fraiser - as far as I'm concerned their hard work is done, putting together such an incredible spectacle to take on the road.

Of course, it's not just rave that brings flashing lights. Going back to a discussion about Pink Floyd and the likes is a different blog, but I will say the whole inspiration for this was watching Snow Patrol in Belfast last Thursday.

For me, no rock act will ever put on a light show like the Chems or Daft Punk. But as far as 'proper' bands are concerned, the lights and visuals at the Odyssey last Thursday night were about the best I've ever seen.

For most of the show, the visuals were just heavily treated images of the band, captured by seemingly hidden cameras around the stage. The screens would move and change shape and the style of how the band were portrayed would change to match the mood of a song. Apparently the guy doing this all is just off the REM tour and has previously worked with Depeche Mode. I can only imagine how much this would have cost, but I'm thinking for the whole tour, with all the camera men and stuff - seven figures, anyway. Worth every penny, as well.

The encore though, that's when the whole thing came to life. Gary & co were suddenly behind a huge screen, which had eaten the entire stage, right up to the roof. For 'The Lightning Strike' suite at the end of the album, what was essentially a short film was screened - an origami adventure, through galaxies, then across land and sea. If you were there, that will make sense - if you weren't - well trust me, it was a beautiful sight to behold. And it was coupled with the music beautifully. I'm currently on the hunt for photos to add to this blog, needless to say. Here's some mobile phone footage in the meantime.

Crucially, it didn't steal the bands thunder. The fact Snow Patrol now play like a band who utterly belong on an arena stage and Gary's voice is remarkably strong, alongside the fact every second song seemed to be qualify as 'massive anthem' - that's what most will remember about this gig, and rightly so.

But for me, the bands coming of age will be remembered alongside that wide eyed childish feeling and a dopey big grin as I watched those lovely colours and sparkly, flashing lights.

Thanks to:

Daft Punk pics - Michael Lee

Chemical Brothers pics - Matt from Bodytonic

Snow Patrol pics - Stephen Lynn

Snow Patrol Belfast pic - Christopher Byrne

Rigsy is twittering his way through his day as a judge of the Choice Music Prize. At 8pm he'll enter a room with eleven other judges to pick a winner. We're told, rather scarily, that "what happens in that room, stays in that room", but he has promised to tweet the winner the second it's announced, so we're hoping for something of an online exclusive.

Meanwhile, his rambling tweets will be pasted on this blog, so do enjoy a (fairly exceptional) day in the life of our man Rigsy...

10.39pm...

And the winner is... JAPE! He humbly declares "it's much better being a sinking ship than a rat jumping off a sinking ship". He seems like a lovely chap tbh.

10.15pm...

Finished. It was really really interesting and very fair. Winner twitted the second its announced. 15 mins I reckon.

7.53pm...

Ha. No, 2 hours of rowing ahead. Playing by the rules so no sneaky twits, but will try and be first with result!

7.51pm...

In the room! The debate starts here. It's cold, so I'll make this quick...

7.41pm...

Dinner finished. Judges all dead on, total musos. Tho strangely everyone avoiding chat about nominated bands.

7.33pm...

Does ur music preference change after u eat too much?

5.24pm...

Off to meet my fellow judges, get them drunk and convince them of rich rewards in Belfast if they fight for Holmer or the Opps. I jest. Kind of. Will try and tweet between dinner and us disappearing to fight it out xoxoxoxo

5.08pm...

Tho I can't just storm in and only fight for the two nordies, no one will take me seriously... not that I'm expecting that anyway, ha.

5.00pm...

Listening to Oppenheimer and Holmer records, even tho I know them inside out. Would be absolutely chuffed to bits and pieces if either won.

4.34pm...

Forgot how many decent tunes are on that Messiah J album. Last 2 singles are brilliant. If it was a vote on singles...

2.38pm...

The taxi driver asked what I'm down for. I told him. The only act he'd heard of was The Script.

1.45pm...

Really have to NOT let my crush on Lisa Hannigan interfere with the judging process.

1.42pm...

Mick Flannery record is grand and everything, but I wouldn't want a singer-songwriter to win Irish album of the year. No fun.

1.27pm...

RSAG album is probably the most unique of the ten - weird samples buried beneath drums - soundtracks this rickety train journey quite well.

11.30am...

Up and getting the train to the choice awards in a bit. Gonna listen to the acts on the shortlist once again on the train down.

Right, here is the new thing. An occasional series shining a little light on some forgotten, undiscovered or criminally undervalued piece of music. Hell maybe it could be a former number one smash hit but we feel it needs a revisit.

As ever, we want you to get involved. Reply to the blog with your suggestions and a brief line on why your tune needs more attention or alternatively email atl@bbc.co.uk - hollah back!

Our first is from a Canadian band Stars, critically acclaimed but never quite going interstellar ('scuse poor punage). As is apparently the law, members of Stars were also involved with the Arts and Crafts label scene of Montreal which spawned the likes of Broken Social Scene and Feist. Most likely they shared many frappucinos and debated Balzac with the Arcade Fire brethren too. This tune, 'Your Ex Lover is Dead' was lifted from 'Set Yourself On Fire' from 2004. It is truly breathtakingly beautiful. ATL recommends you close your eyes while listening. You can thank us later.

So I'm currently very excited about the Choice Music Prize, which takes place in Dublin tomorrow evening. In a nutshell, it's the Irish version of the Mercury Music Prize. It's also an annual shortlist to remind us just how wonderfully messed up the music scene is on this island. The three previous winners illustrate this very well - a (then unknown) female singer from Galway, the greatest songwriter Ireland has ever produced and an utterly barmy indie/electronic/hip-hop collective from Dublin City.

It's a little hard to call, needless to say.

This year, Choice founder Jim Carroll, has asked me to be a judge. It's strange to have one twelth of the final say in this, given the kudos. And the cash prize (ten grand!). But it's exciting, because this year's short list is certainly something worth enthusing about.

The plan for tomorrow looks interesting, if a little intimidating.

Myself and my fellow judges will meet for dinner at 5ish, somewhere in Temple Bar. A direct quote from Jim's mass email - "The condemned men and women should always at least get a hearty meal into them".

The opportunity to hang out is appreciated. At the moment, I only really know Ian Wilson from 2FM, as ATL works alongside Ian every summer at Oxegen and Electric Picnic. I also know the lovely Sinead Ni Mhorda, having contributed to her show on Phantom FM. The other nine judges I am aware of, but don't know particularly well. It should make for some fiesty debating, that's for sure, especially with the likes of Niall Byrne, who's Nialler9 site won Best Music Blog the last three years running. I'm aware of his work.

Then, at 7.30, we're whisked off to the legendary Vicar Street venue. We don't get to enjoy the celebratory gig though, which is a real shame. I hosted it the last two years and it was an absolute treat. Instead we're going to be locked up in a room somewhere else in the building, or maybe even across the road.

For two hours, we will talk about ten records deemed the best produced on this island in 2008.

I'm not sure what to expect. I'm assuming we will each start by picking a few albums we reckon are worthy of the award. Assuming a few get only a couple of votes, we'll hopefully end up with a handful of front runners. Then the fun will really start.

Anyone who listens to Across the Line on an even semi-regular basis will know exactly who I'll be rooting for. The nordies - for a start - I'd be chuffed if either David Holmes or Oppenheimer won. Not just because they are friends of the show - but because their albums both featured in my top ten records of the year by anyone.

After that - well Fight Like Apes's record is so insane, so remarkably daft that it's given me a lot of fun in the last twelve months. What an incredibly creative bunch of very lovely people. Lisa Hannigan's record is gorgeous as well, and the Halfset album seems pretty sweet - though I need to give it a proper listen once again, probably this evening. Messiah J's album contains two of my favourite singles of the last wee while and Jape's is also a deserved nominee, at least.

But I need to focus. I can't just walk in and rave about everything, I need to pick three absolute favorites and do battle on their behalf.

Should those three records end up fighting on the podium?

Well that, dear readers, is when it becomes The Sophie's Choice Music Prize.

Though apparently that phrase suggests the outcomes are all equally negative, so it doesn't really work. Never mind.

I'll let you know how I get on!