Vin Maskell Eureka Hotel, Geelong. Late 1981Can a fan be a journalist? Can a journalist be a fan? I found out I was just a groupie, with a notepad and a pen.
Vin Maskell Gertrude St, Geelong West, Victoria. 1976Sometimes Bill’s quiet voice would quicken with enthusiasm as he suggested we listen to a particular song. And we’d sit there and not interrupt the song. I wouldn’t even reach for another shortbread, there on the spotless glass coffee table.
Vin Maskell St Andrews market, Victoria, May 2012The bloke with about 30 milk crates of second-hand records was in no hurry. “Five dollars each,” he said. “Or, at this time of day, three for ten.”
I am sitting in a blue Laser sedan under a streetlight in a back-street in Brunswick. A Yorkshire rapper is in the passenger seat fiddling with a cassette and the car’s tape player.
Vin Maskell Christmas Hills, Victoria, 16 December 1979It took two hot hours to get to Christmas Hills but Grub didn’t mind. He loved driving and he loved music. He could hear music in the hum of an engine.
Vin Maskell The Continental, Prahran, July 1996I wrote letters to my sister about those five Tuesday nights. Hand-written letters, with air-mail stamps on them. Letters with the name of songs and guest musicians. Letters that travelled the world.
Vin Maskell The Bellbrae hill, 1974Ten words was all my father said about Bob Dylan. Eleven if you count the contraction.
Vin Maskell Pedestrian traffic lights, Williamstown, Melbourne. 8.30 each morningI see Regina Spektor every morning. On the bus.
That first summer I heard about the girl from the Red River Shore I felt a little better, if a little sadder, about the world.
Vin Maskell Coatesville Bowling Club, Bentleigh. Monday 1 November, 2010. Cup Eve.In a way the evening was Broadway Danny Rose meets Cocoon. But more moving. Much more moving.