Darlene Zimbardi February 1992, New York City The cab stops; Peter runs around to open my door. Even though the doctor told me that everything was going to be fine, here we are just a couple of months later; I can’t even stand. Received: diagnosis. Lost: everything else. Pete bends over, gently lifting my body [...]
Riders On The Storm was the only Doors song 7BU ever played. My mental image of the singer was someone like the Marlboro Man crossed with the God of the Old Testament. All-seeing, all-knowing, powerful but not necessarily prepared to intervene.
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.
The house lights dimmed, the curtain rose, a hush fell and the assault began. Proximity of screen plus technicolour panavision multiplied by gigantic singing heads equals nausea.
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
You flick through my CDs with the kind of thought and care people put into choosing a name for their child. An appreciative smile rests briefly on my lips as you insert the disc into the car stereo. I don’t even care what you’ve chosen, I just love that it took you so long to choose
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.
Jack Gramski and Vin Maskell were talking and singing Stereo Stories on ABC 774 on Wednesday 13 April, courtesy of the Lindy Burns evening program.