Victory Or Die

After The Noise

Everything Is Equal

Thursday 30 April 2026

Motörhead – Victory Or Die (2015)

Saturday’s crunch match against Crewe Alexandra has been playing on my mind all week. As often happens, I start finding meaning in song titles.

Lemmy arrives, snarling through his dentures at full blast, and suddenly everything makes sense.

Released just six months before he departed to that interest-free place in the sky, this is as hard-hitting and direct as anything Motörhead recorded.

A fitting swansong.

And Victory Or Die is exactly how it feels for Cambridge United. At worst, the lottery of the play-offs. Something no sane supporter wants to endure.

Unless it ends at Wembley.

Then every ounce of pain was worth it.

Lose at Wembley and life is officially over. Until next season.

Thanks for the laughs, Lemmy. Still missed.

Robert Lloyd and the New Four Seasons – Something Nice (John Peel Session Version) (1987)

Trying to take my mind off Saturday, I dipped into an archive John Peel Festive Fifty show.

This upbeat little number grabbed me immediately and demanded a few replays.

Robert Lloyd, formerly of The Nightingales, went solo after they split. A name I knew, but never really explored.

This is simple but effective. A looping structure, Lloyd parping away, and most importantly, a solid beat holding it all together.

A bit of digging shows it was his debut solo single, from his first album. It’s on Spotify.

But this Peel session version is better. Comfortably so.

And if anyone understood the emotional damage of football, it was John Peel.

Still missed.

Though I do own what might be the bargain of the century. A DVD packed with his broadcasts for twenty quid.

It gets the occasional spin at work.

Cinder Well – Gone the Holding (2023)

Cinder Well. The name meant nothing at first.

Then it clicked. This is the voice behind the theme to Small Prophets. Mackenzie Crook at his best.

Which explains the feel.

Soft, folky drift. Slight distance. A voice that hovers rather than pulls you in.

It makes sense, even if it didn’t quite land.

This is a track which suits the quietness of the morning walk.

It’s just… there. Drifting. Filling space without insisting on anything.

And sometimes that’s enough.

Not everything needs to land.

Tony Bennett – This Is All I Ask (1963)

Time to settle things down.

Bennett restores order immediately. That voice. Rich, steady, completely in control.

Smoky piano underneath. Strings waiting patiently. Nothing rushed.

A Manchester morning opening up.

Bowie sniffs everything in sight while I stare into space, drifting.

Tony just carries on.

There’s something majestic about songs like this. The arrangement builds, but never overwhelms. Everything sits behind the voice.

That’s the point.

Let him do the work.

And he does.

You think about the longevity as well. Decades of it. Even those late records with Lady Gaga worked far better than expected.

Out here, though, it’s just this.

A bit of calm.

And fittingly, all I ask is a comfortable victory on Saturday.

END OF LISTENING LOG