Luke Davies pays tribute to his father, via Frank Sinatra's version of My Way.
From the first time I heard Five Feet High And Rising I could relate to it, not that where we lived in the lower Blue Mountains was likely to get flooded. It just somehow touched me.
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.
The song reached in hard and touched me. That night I have a fan moment and purchase three of Corin's CDs during the interval.
Mary Gauthier entered my little world and reinforced the notion that songwriting is a great art form as worthy of any other. To me, she was, until then, an unknown master of songwriting.
Can’t think of a song all festival that blew me away like Old White Men did. When I caught it at the tail end of Vance Gilbert's set I welled up like everyone else.
I was like another brother to Jessica. She fancied my band mates more than me, so that was bit of a drag. We did share a love for one particular song, though.
The afternoon sun came through the west facing window as I tinkered on some project and the radio was glued to Radio National. The radio has served me well after being rescued from a dumpster.
Luke R Davies Blacktown, New South Wales, 1986 It was hairs standing up and goose bumps time. I am an atheist and this was as close to a religious experience I was ever going to get.