PRETTY LITTLE BABY by CONNIE FRANCIS. Tribute by Lucia Nardo.
The music and lyrics to many of her recordings rolled across my mind like a red carpet welcoming my memories.
THE OTHER WOMAN by CARO EMERALD. Story by Lucia Nardo.
Believing herself unloved and unlovable had splintered her heart. Her desperate life’s search was to find someone to piece it back together.
ITALIAN LULLABY by CONNIE FRANCIS. Story by Lucia Nardo.
The sweet, pure voice of Connie Francis singing Italian Lullaby hurtled me back to an encounter in a café that spoke to me tenderly of parenthood.
NOW COMES THE NIGHT by ROB THOMAS. Story by Lucia Nardo.
Each day, another bit of independence falls away. His piano accordion, once his faithful daily companion, is silent. Dad can barely lift it.
RUN by SNOW PATROL Reflection by Lucia Nardo
At home and still in my funereal black, I do the obligatory YouTube search for the track. The internet soon shepherds me away from The King’s back-catalogue to a tear-invoking power-ballad from a band I’d followed since the 1990s.
IMAGINE by JOHN LENNON Story by Lucia Nardo
I love my son’s tattoos. The latest addition is the word 'imagine' on his right upper arm.
ALL THAT JAZZ Memoir by Lucia Nardo
It’s doubtful Bob Fosse had in mind a conservative calisthenics club in Melbourne’s industrial west when he choreographed All That Jazz in 1975.
CENTRE STAGE Lucia Nardo
Welcome to Centre Stage, where we shine the spotlight on Stereo Stories' most enduring writers.
WOULDN’T IT BE NICE by THE BEACH BOYS. Story by Lucia Nardo
We engaged Joie's Mazda 818's unofficial air conditioning—two windows down and eighty kilometres an hour—and raised our voices in chat and song over the wind streaming into the car.
THEY WON’T GO WHEN I GO by GEORGE MICHAEL Story by Lucia Nardo
Lucia Nardo Melbourne, June 1992 While it is true that in death we travel alone, wherever it is George Michael has gone, he's taken a part of me with him.