After The Noise
Everything Is Equal
Saturday 31 January 2026
That was a good afternoon.
A brisk walk through late-January air to Boundary Park, home of Oldham Athletic. Away ground. Familiar enough. Unfamiliar enough. Cambridge United doing what Cambridge United do. Unpredictable, convincing, suddenly second in the league. Dare I dream promotion might be on the cards?
The walk back to the car felt better than the match itself. Just over a mile, fast pace, no dog. No stopping. No negotiating. No throwing toys. I powered through people stepping into the road like I had somewhere important to be. For a brief stretch, I felt unstoppable.
Near the end, age caught up. Pace dropped. Legs complained. I was relieved to see the black Skoda waiting for me, beaming, almost pleased.
I collapsed into the driver’s seat, and Aphex Twin hit immediately. Perfect. Abrasive. Reassuring. Exactly right.
I started babbling into the phone, wedged where the ashtray used to be. Talking to the playlist has become oddly therapeutic. Aphex Twin into someone unfamiliar, then Cabaret Voltaire, Led Zeppelin, Simply Red, and Charles Manson. After The Noise does what it does. No warning. No logic. Just movement.
Algorithms? Who needs them?
I decided to drive home without sat nav. Old-school. Freeing. We managed perfectly well before glowing blue lines told us where to go. I followed signs. Trusted my instincts.
I’ve always had a good sense of direction. The wife will vouch for that.
However, on this occasion, they weren’t perfect.
A sign for Saddleworth confirmed I’d gone the wrong way. For a moment, I considered it. The moors. Just carrying on. Turning the mistake into a small adventure. Instead, I did the sensible middle-aged thing. Turned around. Found the A62. Headed home.
The drive was easy. Enjoyable. I didn’t get angry. I didn’t lean on the horn. Dickheads were still dickheads, but that felt beside the point. One less screen. One less distraction. The road felt wider.
I pulled into the driveway and realised the babble was gone. Lost. Replaced by that flat message. Something’s gone wrong.
I tried again. Then stopped.
Once, that would have ruined the evening. Now it barely registered. Annoying, yes. Catastrophic, no.
I went inside.
And finished the day. Relaxed and content.
END OF LISTENING LOG
The Listening Log 