We mourn the dead, but if they touched us in some way they never really die.
Lazy Lester sang in a compelling, rough-hewn voice and played harmonica, guitar and various percussion devices. Not blues from the delta, not the electric blues of the big cities but blues with a looser feel.
I'm up on top of the house looking at a hole in the roof. A storm is coming. I’m thinking rain, I’m thinking possums, I’m thinking Handyman, wherefore art thou?
In 2014 I applied for a one-month writing residency in Ólafsfjörður, a remote Icelandic fishing village near the Arctic Circle. To my shock, I was accepted within the week.
Mississippi Gabe Carter knows a thing or two about devotion. He’s a deeply religious man, after all. His record label is called Lord And Gabe Records. To borrow one of his album titles, he was born to preach.
In this age where there’s supposedly no such thing as bad publicity, where every mundane detail of life can serve as grist to the celebrity mill, the rarest commodity of all is a genuine sense of mystery. Because he was dead long before he was famous, Robert Johnson will never lose his mystery.
I think of my past snakes, all those blue eyes and banjos over the years, the late night knocks and needs that kept my heart shielded and my eyes always on the door.
Alice Bishop ponders the crossroads of love and marriage, of blues and women, of cotton fields and the Mississippi.
Stereo Stories' first concert for 2017 was a 90-minute show at The Stage Door Studio, an intimate performance space tucked away in a corner of the Wangaratta Showgrounds. The night kicked off with the starkness of State Trooper and finished with a rousing blues jam.
Vin Maskell Moggs Creek, Australia; 1983 to 2013 The third and final part of our series about family, a beach house and its record collection.