After The Noise
Everything Is Equal
Monday 08 June 2026
Everything But The Girl – Temperamental (1999)
The realities of being home truly kicked in while driving through the rain-soaked streets of Salford.
A contented dog snoozed in the back. Traffic crawled along. Drizzle tapped relentlessly against the windscreen. And somewhere in the distance lurked the dread of that first day back at work.
I am more than ready to delete a thousand pointless emails.
Brazil already feels strangely distant.
Did it really happen?
The journey home was certainly real enough. Thanks, Lufthansa. Quite an achievement to provide less legroom on a twelve-hour flight to São Paulo than on a one-hour hop to Frankfurt.
Modern planes are rubbish.
Unless, of course, you’ve got the money to upgrade.
Next time we’re going via Lisbon and that’s that.
Still, there are compensations. Your own sofa. Your own bed. Your own shower.
And, naturally, the kisses, cuddles and overwhelming enthusiasm of a certain Labrador.
As I drive and reflect, Everything But The Girl provide the perfect soundtrack. A much overlooked combo.
Black Lace – Superman (1983)
Britain is so bloody miserable.
Everywhere you look there are miserable faces attached to miserable people enduring miserable weather.
Mind you, we’re experts at complaining.
Too cold.
Too hot.
Too windy.
Too wet.
Yawn.
So it was a pleasant surprise when this classic from the mighty Black Lace exploded into my ears as everyone, myself included, shuffled through a Monday morning looking utterly fed up.
I never thought much of Superman until it featured heavily in an episode of Inside No. 9. Since then, I’ve become strangely fascinated by it.
I’m not entirely sure that’s healthy.
After all, we’re talking about the band responsible for Agadoo.
Yet Superman is both utterly ridiculous and utterly brilliant.
The song consists largely of being instructed to ski, swim, walk, spray, macho-man, sound the horn (and other nonsensical actions) before building towards the magnificent climax of:
“SUPERMAN!”
Clap your hands, repeat the actions, clap your hands and then one final run through much faster. Which makes it even better.
The music itself is fantastic.
The drum rolls.
The keyboard riffs.
The bass line. Oh, the bass line is to die for! Musically, the structure is tremendous.
I also find myself picturing grannies enthusiastically performing the actions at family parties.
I genuinely regret never playing this when I was a wedding DJ.
It’s ridiculously infectious.
Another contender for the funeral playlist.
Royal Blood – Out Of The Black (2014)
After the glorious nonsense of Black Lace, something a little heavier felt entirely appropriate.
The reality of normal life was beginning to creep back into view.
Holidays are wonderful.
Unfortunately, they eventually end.
I don’t blame everyone for looking fed up this morning. Mondays are hard enough without endless drizzle adding to the atmosphere.
Brazil is hardly perfect, but at least people seem to smile more.
And they’ve got the food.
I spent most of yesterday eating rubbish as though I’d never been away and paid for it accordingly.
Meanwhile, Royal Blood arrived precisely when required.
The volume knob immediately went up to eleven.
Problem solved.
Shakin’ Stevens – You Drive Me Crazy (1981)
The volume remained firmly at eleven for this slab of eighties nostalgia from the great Shakin’ Stevens.
Or Shaky, as he is affectionately known.
He shakes these days too, admittedly, but for entirely different reasons.
I had the good fortune to see him at Glastonbury in 2008.
Everything was going beautifully.
Hit after hit.
The crowd loving every minute.
Then came the fatal announcement:
“I’m going to play some songs from my new album.”
No, Shaky.
No.
We want the hits.
To be fair, the new songs were actually pretty good, but you could feel a collective groan ripple across the field.
This is one of those songs I haven’t heard for years.
The moment it starts, though, it feels like finding a comfortable old pair of shoes you’d forgotten you owned.
Nothing complicated.
Nothing clever.
Just good old-fashioned rock and roll doing exactly what it was designed to do.
And helping one miserable old twat come to terms with miserable Britain being utterly miserable.
END OF LISTENING LOG
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