After The Noise
Everything Is Equal
Monday 26 January 2026
Garbage – Hold (2025)
Garbage. That Garbage.
A supergroup. Shirley Manson. She used to irritate me. She doesn’t anymore. That’s age and maturity doing their thing.
She’s bloody brilliant. Quietly getting on with business.
This is more recent Garbage. I saw them live in 1998 in the park and they were brilliant, as you’d expect from that lineup.
This won’t change the world. Then again, what does?
This is Garbage doing what Garbage do. Solid, confident alternative rock. And as Jerry Seinfeld would say, “there’s nothing wrong with that.”
They’re comfortable in their own skin. They don’t need to be judged. I admire that in bands.
People say things like, “They don’t need the money.” As if that’s the point. This is what they do. It’s their job. That’s why the Rolling Stones keep going.
The modern age is brilliant for that. Eighty-year-olds still dancing on stage. When the Stones hit fifty, people said they were too old. Fifty.
Nowadays, I dream of being 50!
Enjoy Garbage. They’ve made great music on their terms.
Elvis Presley – In the Ghetto (1969)
This is why I love this playlist. You never know what’s coming next.
Straight from the strange and the obscure into something utterly familiar. In the Ghetto. Taken from the LP From Elvis in Memphis, his proper comeback.
For every In the Ghetto, there’s an Elvis doing Old MacDonald. The film soundtrack stuff is wildly overlooked. There are so many gems in there.
I even find worth in the farm. This song is close to perfect. There’s no clever way to describe it. It just is.
Oh, those strings. Ridiculously delightful. The voice. The monster booming voice of Elvis. Sung so effortlessly. Like a gliding swan on a sheet of ice.
It’s calming me down. And my head needs calming down.
Langston Hughes – As I Grew Older; I, Too (1955)
This came from asking the machine for spoken word. And the machine did good! Never heard of Langston Hughes. But, bloody glad I have now.
One of those voices where you just stop and listen. The clarity. The confidence. The absolute authority in the language.
The confidence in this poem is everything. No hesitation. No apology. That’s why it works.
That’s what I try to take into my own poetry. Say it. Mean it. Stand by it.
Sometimes you just must be in awe.
The The – The Mercy Beat (1986)
Matt Johnson. One of my favourite artists of all time.
We finally got a new The The album in 2024, but this takes me back to Infected (1986). The video album. I remember taping it off Channel 4 when they showed it in full. That was a thing back then. A proper event.
I don’t think Johnson ever topped Soul Mining (1983). He probably wouldn’t argue. But what’s remarkable is the consistency. Every record has quality. That’s hard to maintain. Really hard.
What strikes me now is how timeless this sounds. It doesn’t scream “80s”. It just sounds like The The. Outside of fashion. Outside of nostalgia.
Listening to this while feeling slightly fragile makes things clearer. Creativity struggles when the body’s clogged with additives, sugar, booze. You can see why people sleepwalk through life. When your head’s addled, you can’t see straight.
This weekend was heavy. Food. Drink. Old habits. I’m stuck at 117 kg, hovering. Plateaued. But I know the way forward. Simple plan. Two meals. Fasting. No snacking. Nothing clever.
Letting addictive food back in is like letting an ex back into your life. Familiar. Comforting. Ultimately disappointing.
Still, documenting this helps. Awareness matters.
End Of Listening Log
The Listening Log 