EVERYTHING GONNA BE ALRIGHT by BIG MAMA THORNTON Story by Rijn Collins
In 2014 I applied for a one-month writing residency in Ólafsfjörður, a remote Icelandic fishing village near the Arctic Circle. To my shock, I was accepted within the week.
In 2014 I applied for a one-month writing residency in Ólafsfjörður, a remote Icelandic fishing village near the Arctic Circle. To my shock, I was accepted within the week.
After calling out to the members of the audience who had ever experienced mental turmoil, or just emotional struggles as a whole, the rollicking beauty of steady electric guitar along with the angelic high pitched crooning of Sultana, the flash light on thousands of phones swayed in time to a truly memorable cacophony of sound.
Mississippi Gabe Carter knows a thing or two about devotion. He’s a deeply religious man, after all. His record label is called Lord And Gabe Records. To borrow one of his album titles, he was born to preach.
There are guidelines to making a mix tape when you're in love: no heavy metal, no techno, no hip hop, no breakup elegies, no schmaltzy love songs and definitely no Phil Collins or Rick Astley.
Music was beginning to assert its life-long hold over me, but it still played a distant second fiddle to being a part of a team of twelve boys dressed in pads, batting gloves and protectors.
Then, in a most respectful and mournful voice they started singing. It was a song based on a true event from the Easter Uprising of 1916 which marries the personal to the political, the blood of resistance to the marrow of love.
Word on the streets is that she used to sing on Saturday nights at the Collingwood Town Hall. Does she even know who she is? What do the voices in her head tell her? She is very private, never sharing anything of herself, except her song.
At our final 2017 show we performed another mix of moving stories, plus tributes to Tom Petty (via Stop Dragging My Heart Around), Malcolm Young (Rock And Roll Ain’t Noise Pollution), George Young (Guitar Band) and David Cassidy (Cherish).
In that dark small house for two single souls I found that I was in love. It had taken three years of house-sharing for the obvious to dawn on me.
We’d run out of petrol returning from Mildura. Mobile phones were an invention of the future. We couldn’t even see a house light in the distance, let alone a public phone.