After The Noise
Everything Is Equal
Sunday 08 March 2026
My Bloody Valentine – Wonder 2 (2013)
Stuff I know, but heard differently.
I know “genius” is overused, but My Bloody Valentine really are geniuses. Kevin Shields, yes, but never without the rest of them. That famous line-up played Manchester recently. Sold out in seconds. I didn’t go. Regret that.
I’ve never seen them live.
After putting mbv on this playlist, I briefly thought it might make more sense to use the EPs instead. Late ’80s, early ’90s. That stretch. There’s just nobody else like them.
Then I realised it doesn’t really matter one jot. I’m always thinking about the playlist when I have nothing else to think about.
Timeless bands matter.
Shoegazing took me years to understand as a term. Looking at pedals. Looking at shoes. Whatever. This is hardcore shoegaze. Dense. Constructed. Noisy. Quietly violent.
And the floppy hair. I never had floppy hair. One of my greatest regrets in life.
They can write powerful indie rock when they can be bothered. Sueisfine (Isn’t Anything, 1988) proves that. But when they go like this, it’s something else entirely.
There’s always been an “I don’t give a fuck” attitude with My Bloody Valentine. I love that. mbv buckled slightly under expectation, but it didn’t self-combust. And the fact they’re still playing means there could be another one.
You know it would be good.
I recognise genius when it gives me a dry slap.
John Martyn – Don’t Want to Know (1973)
A name I’ve always half-known but never properly explored. I may have listened to one or two of his records over the years.
This sounds exactly how I expected, and that’s not a criticism. It’s just… nice. And nice doesn’t mean dull. Although dull can sometimes be good. Better than chasing hits, fame, fortune and Brit Awards.
Boring and calm beat chaos.
This is simple music. A man getting on with it. No pretence. No strain. Nothing demanding. You nod your head and think, yes, he knows exactly what he’s doing.
From his most well-known album, Solid Air. A few records into his career. Budget slightly bigger. Confidence settled.
Lovely music.
Just lovely.
The Go! Team – Junior Kickstart (2004)
Oh my word, I love The Go! Team. I love The Go! Team so much. I love them nearly as much as my wife.
And that is pure love.
But not quite as much as our beloved Labrador, Bowie.
I adore the DIY ethics of The Go! Team. One man, Ian Parton, in a bedroom sticking a load of samples together and releasing it with no real expectation that anyone would care.
People cared.
And they’ve just kept going. Never “successful” in the conventional sense, but always brilliant.
One of those bands who throw a million genres into the mix without ever sounding confused. And that’s not easy to do.
They split up, then got back together. A group I constantly return to. Time and time again. I was blasting Buy Nothing Day (Rolling Blackouts, 2011) in the car just a couple of days ago. And Huddle Formation from this album.
Then they assembled a vibrant, funky live band with a brilliant front woman — the fabulously named Ninja.
They know exactly how to build a good, vibrant beat. This is one of the best examples of that early period. 2004. Thunder, Lightning, Strike. What an album.
I genuinely thought they’d propel themselves to superstardom.
I caught their set at Glastonbury a few years ago, second on the bill to none other than Kool & His Gang. And that’s the beauty of a festival like Glastonbury. The Go! Team slide effortlessly into Kool & His Gang and come out the other side still sounding exactly like themselves.
This feels lovingly crafted. Effortless. Like it was a breeze to put together.
Of course, it wasn’t. That’s the trick.
Ian Parton is The Go! Team. The engine. The glue.
And this has me dancing around the kitchen, talking into my machine.
Which is never a bad thing.
Especially while I’m waiting for my liver and bacon to cook.
Shakira – Don’t Bother (2005)
Shakira. Shakira.
Every time I hear her, I think: Shakira, Shakira.
My wife is a big fan. A big fan. She wants to see Shakira live next time she plays the UK, and honestly, I can’t knock the quality. I’ve heard enough to know quality when I hear it, and she has it in spades.
That said, this one doesn’t quite hit the full Shakira Shakira zone. Everything is equal, yes, but this soppy ballad doesn’t quite land for me. One of those songs that quietly announces itself as an album track.
Hello, I’m an album track.
(Post-track research proves that, like Manuel in Fawlty Towers, “I know nothing”. The song was actually a hit around the world, including number 9 in the UK and 42 in the US. I’ll get my coat.)
I can’t even remember which Shakira album I dropped into the playlist (Oral Fixation Vol. 2, in case you’re bothered).
I try to make everything equal, and mostly I do. But sometimes there are songs you simply don’t like as much as others. That little voice in the back of the head.
The know-it-all music critic.
Even so, what a talent.
And then there’s the personal mythology. Married that footballer. Traded in for a younger model. And Shakira responds with supreme confidence:
“I’m worth two 22-year-olds.”
“You traded a Ferrari for a Twingo.”
Total class. You have to admire that.
One of the weaker Shakira songs I’ve heard, but still a pretty strong effort.
Quality is quality.
Arthur Sullivan / The D’Oyly Carte Opera Company – Pour, O Pour the Pirate Sherry (1968)
I chuck things into the playlist out of pure curiosity.
I love the title The Pirates of Penzance. I know of Gilbert and Sullivan. And that’s where my knowledge ends. Period. As our American chums annoyingly say.
Imagine a stuffy-looking conductor waving a stick. I’ve always wondered about that. The waving. It must mean something.
The musicians already have the music in front of them, so why all the stick business? I’d love to meet a conductor and have them explain it properly.
Or are they just winging it?
I suspect they’d get quite annoyed by that suggestion.
Even the title is brilliant: Pour, O Pour the Pirate Sherry. Sherry! Pirates! You imagine rum, not sherry. But perhaps pirates needed something civilised now and then.
Primitive sherry was undoubtedly a lethal alcoholic beverage.
The Listening Log honest opinion?
It’s amazing. Seriously amazing.
Completely out of my comfort zone, and I’m loving every second of it.
The music stops. There’s spoken dialogue. It sounds like pirates drinking sherry.
That alone is worth the price of admission.
Life-changing? Possibly not.
Delightful? Absolutely.
END OF LISTENING LOG
The Listening Log 