After The Noise
Everything Is Equal
Thursday 28 May 2026
BB King – Key To My Kingdom (1969)
After an almost two-week break, where nobody seemed remotely concerned for my welfare, The Listening Log returns internationally.
Greetings from Rio Claro, Sao Paulo State, Brazil. Or Brasil if you want me to spell locally.
Ironically, the weather back home appears better than it is here, although I still know exactly where I’d rather be.
It pleases me immensely having BB King blasting through headphones while relatives chatter away in Portuguese around me. Even if I spoke the language fluently, there is absolutely no chance I could keep up.
I’m happy.
Time to relax, eat and drink foolish amounts, be creative and enjoy family life for a couple of weeks. Added bonus this time around is renting a car, so we’re getting out and about around São Paulo state rather than staying put.
The weather remains decent enough and the insects appear deeply fond of me. Thankfully, ’er indoors remembered the Savlon cream.
BB King is one of those artists where you always know exactly where you stand. I like simplicity sometimes. A wonderful blues racket, a silky smooth voice and music which instantly improves the mood.
Not a bad soundtrack for a Brazilian morning.
Ken Dodd – Thank Heaven For Little Girls (1962)
The man. The legend. The Dodd.
Made famous originally by Peter Sellers in an exaggerated French accent, this is one of those songs which sounds slightly questionable through modern ears, although I genuinely don’t think there’s anything sinister intended.
Still, given what we now know about certain corners of old entertainment culture, who really knows.
I’ll try not to dwell on that too much on what is essentially a family blog.
Truthfully, it’s a lovely little tune. I fully intend to have “Happiness” played at my funeral. Which reminds me, now I’m 57, I should probably organise some sort of funeral plan. At least it’s officially documented here now.
Originally written for the film Gigi, the song has somehow survived recordings by everyone from Vera Lynn to Merle Haggard without the pervert police intervening too heavily.
Good enough for me.
Karen Dalton – It Hurts Me Too (1969)
I sometimes wish I could remember exactly how some of these artists arrive on the playlist.
Karen Dalton is a completely new name to me and this is absolutely gorgeous.
Very bluesy. Very laid-back. Very late-night.
It isn’t even nine in the morning as I type this and somehow her voice has me wanting to crack open a cold beer already. Unfortunately, I’ve just been summoned to drive somewhere, which slightly ruins the romanticism of the idea.
I love the roughness in her voice. All smoky and worn around the edges.
Post-song research reveals she only made two albums. I suspect I’ll be spending more time with both of them.
Duke Ellington – Washington Wobble (1927)
Almost one hundred years old.
I immediately picture crowded dance halls, people smoking and laughing, cocktails flowing while everyone briefly forgets whatever troubles waited outside.
The twenties always seem sophisticated in hindsight. Although admittedly they were probably considerably less enjoyable if you happened not to be wealthy.
Still, this is wonderful from beginning to end.
Ellington knew exactly what he was doing.
I love music from this era because even the happiest recordings carry a strange shadow when heard now. Between recessions, uncertainty and the slow rise of certain unpleasant figures in Europe, history tells us things were far less carefree than these joyous little recordings sometimes suggest.
Yet somehow that makes them feel even more human.
END OF LISTENING LOG
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