The keyboard sonatas of Domenico Scarlatti (1685–1757), and a poem I wrote about them, have a close connection to my favourite rental place, an historic mansion in Newtown, Geelong.
For a long time, I wanted to buy a particular set of classic jazz recordings, Louis Armstrong’s Hot Fives and Sevens, which he recorded with various ensembles from 1925-1929.
It was a typical example of a poky old corner pub with a strong local identity; often, it was packed out on band nights. Usually, we’d play from 8.30 till 11.30 pm, with a couple of small intervals, and the price of entry was $2 – yep, $2!
We went through our usual repertoire, with The Rolling Stones’ Respectable rattling the rafters in Freshwater Creek.
I have a vivid memory from that time of watching this wonderful film near the end of its run in Mid-City’s main cinema, which seated close to a thousand people, with only a couple of others in attendance.
Deirdre quoted from a hit song of the period in a letter the four girls wrote to me, passed on by Joan on one of those afternoons walking home from school.
Split Enz were considerably more interesting in their earlier period.
The best thing about Glenda’s enthusiasm, though, was that it triggered my interest in Slade.
We rehearsed a great deal for our debut. The gig was in the clubrooms of the St Albans Football Club on a winter’s night, with a pig on a spit, a few barrels and a good-sized crowd.
Mainly I wrote songs for their own sake - most were never performed in front of an audience.