I defy anyone to label the following two truisms my subjective opinions: 1. John Farnham is deeply cheesy. 2. John Farnham has a beautiful voice.
Some songs come to you in a tremendous moment of need. Some songs are needed like a dose of Ibuprofen during the emotional inflammation that is failure.
Like A Stone by Audioslave was Ali Sipahi's topic for a Grade Six presentation/show-and-tell. Her teacher and her classmates were taken back a little.
My brilliant investment plan does not involve stocks or bonds or higher education. It is Billy Joel, The Complete Collection, 1971-1984, for sale in the record shop next door.
Recently I was invited by an old school friend to a George Michael tribute night at Chasers nightclub in Melbourne. I said Yes straight away – I was fascinated by the prospect of returning to one of the dingy pick up lairs where I first gyrated my way into young adulthood.
It’s as if Don Walker is merging two mythologies – the Australian desert and the Bible, concluding with a verse that shifts to Christ’s resurrection.
The love of any form of art is always a subjective thing. What is cool is an art form that can take you to a new level of appreciation of another art form.
A friend had brought his portable record player to our camp site, a dry creek bed. Sitting in front of that roaring fire, toasting marshmallows, we were introduced to the songs of Simon & Garfunkel.
One of my strongest memories is the pure joy we got out of making each other laugh. Belly laughs that happened while you hung upside down on the monkey bars were even more hilarious.
It was a big deal in my heart when my brother responded enthusiastically to my studiously low key suggestion that he and I form a scratch band to play at the St Andrews Festival in 2007.