Chillout: Morning After

There's only so much you can accomplish with fruit juice and an ice-pack — to get through the morning after, you're also going to require time . . . and the sweet balm of great chill-out tunes, and with this extended Essentials playlist we offer you both. Ease the transition from migraine to mellow in the company of Beck, who understands there's no one else to blame on "Nobody's Fault but My Own", Massive Attack, administering a dose of industrial strength trip-hop with "Karmacoma", and Air, prolonging the soft surrender of unconsciousness with the Divine Comedy's Neil Hannon on "Somewhere Between Waking and Sleeping".

Our chill doctors increase the prescription, in Next Steps.

Your thirst is raging, your brow is fevered, and it feels like a small woodland creature spent the night foraging for twigs in your mouth . . . so put some coffee on, and call up the cold flannel of "(I Can't Seem To) Make You Mine" by the Clientele, which unwinds gently on the thread of melody, and David Sylvian's "Come Morning", which finds sanctuary in the space between weightless sax and gently caressed guitar. Clint Mansell, the former Pop Will Eat Itself frontman and composer of the soundtrack to The Wrestler, edges gingerly into "Welcome to Lunar Industries" from the score to 2009 sci-fi thriller Moon.

The morning after will soon be yesterday, thanks to the curative effect of our Deep Cuts.

The fastest route to complete chill-out is often full immersion in a warm pool of sound, and you'll be able to accomplish that here thanks to the Mediterranean radiance of Lazybatusu's "8.00 AM" and the friendly harmonies of Everest's "Taking On the Future". Inventive singer-songwriter David Hurn introduces the highly attractive notion of permanent downy immobility with "The Man Who Stayed In Bed Forever", Elvis Costello looks for divine assistance on "God Give Me Strength", and Eric Clapton gives weary resignation a soulful spin on the barely awake ballad "Better Make It Through Today".

The insufferable law of opposites decrees that for every glorious night of bacchanalian pleasure we enjoy, the burden of an extended physical meltdown must follow, complete with all those nagging pains to which the flesh is heir. Complexion of a beached halibut: check. Mouth like a camel's ear: you bet. Head like an over-ripe watermelon rolling down a pebbled slope: got that too. The only release for your torment, our tender and hypersensitive friends, is this therapeutic playlist featuring a selection of artists who fully understand your pain . . . and know exactly how to make it go away. So before you reach for the medicine cabinet, try something a little more holistic from the healing hands of Sigur Rós ("All alright"), Jack Johnson ("Sleep Through the Static"), Eskimo Joe ("I'm So Tired"), and other trusted bringers of sonic balm.