As I pulled up to the Astor cinema and circled around for a park the band’s Everyday Formula reverberated through the tinny stereo system: My whole world's cheap and phony/ Dear hearts get lost and lonely/ I'll get what's coming to me soon.
As we walked to the frozen yoghurt shop we saw a tall slim guy and two happy teenagers with him, walking towards us. I thought, I know him. Something in his body language. I was sure I’d seen him before.
I am free to find new horizons and make them mine. I am more than my bullies ever imagined and becoming more with each passing day. I refuse to let the past define me.
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.
You can tell by the catch in Neil Finn's voice that it was a tough gig to play and sing this song for his former band mate.
After breaking up and getting back together 152 times, I finally found an exit strategy that would stick. My Happiness was awaiting me – I just had to meet it halfway.
My mind drifts away with the sublime guitars and complementary vocals. The song unfolds gradually but confidently, like the highway I’m driving on...past Tutye, Boinka, Linga, Underbool...
This isn’t a song for Grafton, or Australia, it’s a song for the human condition. The sublime execution is what sets it apart.
Like footy fans at finals time, we queued at the local Bass outlet for tickets. Revelling in the early morning banter with the diehards, who were lucky enough to have witnessed the band at full tilt in the ‘early days’ of the late 1970’s. Other standout gigs were re-lived: Astor Theatre ’82, Kooyong ’85, Venue ’86 and Festival Hall ’87.
So there I was, at the WACA indoor nets with 100 flushed and excited teenage girls, ready to bowl to Daryl Braithwaite.