For once, people in Los Angeles and London and New York might be sitting around listening to a song about where I lived, rather than my sitting around listening to songs about all the places that they live.
Sometimes salvation can be found in the unlikeliest of songs. I find the one I want in the playlist, the one you call your dancing song, and turn it up loud.
I’m standing at the end of a long queue talking to a complete stranger. We both agree we never do this sort of thing. Myself, I’ve generally abided that warning about meeting your heroes.
I’m driving my son to his mate’s house and he’s flicking through stations on the car radio, trying to find a decent pop song to listen to - something that doesn’t sound like it was composed using sampled microwave keypad beeps. Then he’s accidentally flicked onto a golden oldies station. He’s keen to flick off, but I tell him to wait a sec.
In the space of thirty seconds I’ve gone from being bored to horny to a tragic figure whose only true love is dead.
We designed our album covers, our costumes and our amazing stage shows. Not only would we have a full-size movie screen behind us but Andrew would have a drum kit so large that he would need to get extendable robot arms to be able to reach them all. We also planned out the itinerary for our world tour.
All around me was this rubble, the toaster was over the road – my book was blown to bits – but somehow the oven and my headphones were still intact, and Neil Young (ever the unfuckingkillable – the rock n roll cockroach if ever there was one), was STILL singing…and I still hadn’t got to the best bit
It’s the middle of winter. Never mind, we’re wearing shorts and thongs. The sky is an unbroken plain of blue. Well, not entirely unbroken. Here and there, a pillar of white smoke plumes from a cane mill.
Nimity James Theodor W. Adorno, the German philosopher, said we don’t understand music. Rather, music understands us.
Maria Majsa Back bedroom, Pakuranga, Auckland 1978 I held the popsicle to my left ear while my brother stabbed away at my right. It was a warm day and I could feel the popsicle oozing down my neck. Blood and raspberry, an indistinguishable mess.