So there I was, at the WACA indoor nets with 100 flushed and excited teenage girls, ready to bowl to Daryl Braithwaite.
Then, in a most respectful and mournful voice they started singing. It was a song based on a true event from the Easter Uprising of 1916 which marries the personal to the political, the blood of resistance to the marrow of love.
Rick Kane Perth, April 2006 Someone asked, “Where’s the music?” This would be the cathartic moment. This would be where the pain flowed out as the love poured in.
Rick Kane Northcote, Australia July 2015 London July 2010 Vicki and I scan the north side of the river, trying to imagine what window of what flat Ray Davies peered out to look at people swarming like flies down below. Is he looking at us now?
Rick Kane Preston West, Victoria November 2013 I sat up in bed, scared by what I’d heard. I’m never quite prepared for a song that, by revealing the protagonist’s innermost demons, reveals my own.
Rick Kane Ironing before work, Preston. January 2013 In the quiet of an early summer morning, ironing one pant leg after another I listened while Johnny once again led me into the beauty within a seemingly ordinary moment yet nonetheless, a crossroads moment.
Rick Kane Sunday in front of the telly, Cloverdale, Western Australia, late 1982 I could barely comprehend how two people could experience the same moment so radically differently.