I wish I could tell you that it was our differences that eventually tore us apart. Her love of big hair and the power ballad, my love of The Residents and holding my mohawk in place with airplane glue.
I couldn't escape the crush (in both senses of the word) the first time I heard it. I was dumped, pulled under and dragged disoriented across the sandy sediment of my adolescent existence. See My Baby Jive was excoriating.
Tired. Burnt out. I want out. I don’t want to be here. I need something new. What’s next? No solid plans. Wing it. Improvise. Until the money runs out. Or until I get bored doing nothing.
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.
Iryna Byelyayeva ponders which Fleetwood Mac song will be the soundtrack, or the full stop, of a faltering relationship.
With every parting handshake Brendon would tilt his head slightly, lift an eyebrow and advise me to "stick to the shadows".
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.
Kate Bush's Wuthering Heights was released in Melbourne 40 years ago: 5 January, 1978. In this Rewind Stereo Story, Aimee Knight recalls the place the song had in more recent times in a less-than-harmonious share-house in Adelaide. We squander nine months here in the squalor of beer, bands, boys, and one night, post-party, Bush. Kate [...]