Romantic glances were exchanged, embarrassing dance moves produced, high notes aimed for but never hit.
My sole ambition in life is to find out what has happened to John Fogerty.
Harvest Moon is almost poetic and otherworldly in its lyrics and melody. But it got me thinking about that guy who dumped me when I was 14.
At The Palais Theatre, most of the audience of 3000 would have known Your Bright Baby Blues. At The Railway Hotel, probably only two brothers.
Sometimes it’s only when you see a girl for the second or third time that you realise how beautiful she is. A song is a bit like that.
It’s not a mistake to transpose your own experiences onto a song (or a poem or a novel or a painting…). It’s inevitable. It’s part of art. But it can be a trap if you’re not careful.
Mark Schier California, 1990 We sat on the train and plugged into our portable cassette players with those 1990s chunky headphones. I'm not sure what my wife listened to, but for me there was only one choice.
Kahli Scott Brisbane, Australia and London, UK; April 2016 There’s been a shadow over me that doesn’t seem to lift when London’s grey skies do. And Randy Meisner’s voice keeps popping into my head.
David Oke Colac , early 1980s From our vantage point of the stage we could see that CPR was being administered to someone. Someone who’d had a heart attack.
Lucia Nardo Rod Laver Arena, Melbourne, February 2015 I guess the passage of time buffers down the sharp points on everything, not just voices, but love and loss.