IF I HAD A BOAT by LYLE LOVETT Story by Luke R Davies
Lovett covers a lot of styles, is a wonderful singer-songwriter who draws on the well of folk, blues, country and western swing.
I DON’T BELIEVE YOU’VE MET MY BABY by DOLLY PARTON Story by Rick Kane
I was led into the song by Dolly's beautiful, beguiling, tender, fragile, wistful and melodious voice.
GOTTA GET IT by THE RESONANT ROGUES Story by Vin Maskell
My friend Gina sends an email with the subject line ‘Resident Rogues’, inviting me to see a swing/country/gypsy music band from the US in a little bar called the Merri Creek Tavern. She tells me a story as we wait to see the band.
RATTLIN’ BONES by KASEY CHAMBERS & SHANE NICHOLSON Story by Stephen Andrew
The lyrics of Rattlin’ Bones were apocalyptic and disorienting but somehow strangely comforting after our deeply personal experiences of the Black Saturday fires.
YOU WILL SURELY LOVE AGAIN by CHRIS WILSON Tribute by John Butler
We mourn the dead, but if they touched us in some way they never really die.
FIVE FEET HIGH AND RISING by JOHNNY CASH Story by Luke R Davies
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.
THERE IS A TIME by THE DILLARDS Fiction by Niles Reddick
Mostly, Harry sits in a straight back chair by his bed and stares out the window. His mind replays scenes of earlier times: trips to the lake cabin with the children, and square-dances on Saturday to bluegrass tunes by The Dillards and others.
I FALL TO PIECES by PATSY CLINE Fiction by Karen Schauber
They listened to the radio for hours sprawled out in the meadow under the shade of the Buckeye tree, well out of range of the Amish homestead. An everlasting friendship forged.
I DRINK by MARY GAUTHIER Story by Luke R Davies
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.
DEEP RED BELLS by NEKO CASE Story by Rijn Collins
My heart hurts as we head towards Port Arthur. So much can depend on one moment; the café we walk into, the car that stops. And as we drive, I tell you about my moment.