The sounds of the snipping scissors and whirring electric clippers were hypnotising, and I felt myself drifting off.
Urgency is dictating that we move more quickly now, so we forge on past rave tents full of writhing, scantily dressed youngsters, many with glazed eyes.
Darren 'Smokie' Dawson loves his footy, his cricket, his hats and his music. He came into Stereo Stories' orbit via The Footy Almanac.
James Reyne was unable to mask his concern, yelling into the microphone: “We are not coming back on until you have all stopped fighting!” And with that, the band hurriedly disappeared from the stage.
The immediacy of streaming could never quite replace the satisfaction of buying, owning, and holding music in my hands. And the streaming service’s omnipresent “Daily Mix” – chosen especially for me! – was not so much spookily playful as downright nefarious, with the accompanying emails bordering on harassment.
By the time of the opening strains of Shipping Up To Boston (best known in these parts as the soundtrack to an Australian Rules football advertisement), the crowd is in raptures. It is the cue for my son John to enter the mosh-pit, and at his urging, I bravely follow.
Darren 'Smokie' Dawson Various venues, Victoria, New South Wales, 2015, 2016 Never in my wildest dreams did I envisage how my short tale of a doomed teenage relationship would give me such a great rush every time I took to the lectern to share it. At a Stereo Stories show, a writer's words are given greater depth and clarity by the excellent Stereo Stories band.
Darren 'Smokie' Dawson Newport, Melbourne 1992 As the opening chords of Under the Milky Way softly made their way through the speakers, I asked the woman with whom I was planning to spend the rest of my life to dance with me. “I like this,” she whispered.
The difference in our tastes in music would be the rock our relationship perished on.
Darren 'Smokie' Dawson On the road heading north, any January, 2000 – 2010 Whether it was a longer summer sojourn to Coolangatta, or a Sunday winter's day-trip to Daylesford, it was tacitly accepted, unspoken, that when the key went into the ignition, Our Sunshine was to blast out from the speakers.