THEY WON’T GO WHEN I GO by GEORGE MICHAEL Story by Lucia Nardo
Lucia Nardo Melbourne, June 1992 While it is true that in death we travel alone, wherever it is George Michael has gone, he's taken a part of me with him.
Disorder by Joy Division. Story by Maria Majsa
Maria Majsa 93 Edgewater Drive, Pakuranga, February 1982 It was right after the funeral that things began to happen… the lights cut out and the music drained away like water leaving a sink.
Prelude: Song Of The Gulls and Islands by King Crimson. Story by Vin Maskell
Vin Maskell Geelong, 1971, Melbourne 1974 My eldest brother didn’t own many records. If my memory serves me well, the albums he listened to were by The Beatles, a rebel country songwriter, some Dylan and Clapton, a little art rock, and some English pop by a red-headed protégé of Elton John.
Between The Bars by Elliott Smith. Story by Maria Majsa
Maria Majsa One bedroom apartment, Herne Bay, Auckland 2007 You can fall in love with songs just like you can fall in love with people and because I discovered Elliott Smith after he’d died, it was like falling in love and breaking up at the same time.
Feelings Of Grief by Paul Kelly Story by Vin Maskell
Vin Maskell Bedroom, Williamstown, 11.30pm, 2007 To listen to Feelings Of Grief is to swim out beyond the buoys, where the water is too deep and the shore too distant.
Feelings Of Grief by Paul Kelly (A songwriter’s Stereo Story)
Paul Kelly 2006 I asked Richard if it would be better if I resigned and he got someone else, someone who could orchestrate properly.
Sooner Or Later One Of Must Know (and others) by Bob Dylan. Story by Brian Nankervis
Brian Nankervis Driving To North Balwyn, July 2002 I'm staring at strangers, wondering if their dads are alive. How often do they see them? Do they find their dads wise, embarrassing, or supportive? Reverie and envy turn to alarm when I realise the horn from the white ute behind is directed at me.
ALIVE BY PEARL JAM Story by Jeff Dowsing
Jeff Dowsing Fairfield and other Melbourne locations, 1998 The meaning of the song was lost on me until that moment, when it belted me in the face before the chorus punched me in the guts.
Song Sung Blue by Neil Diamond
Kerrie Soraghan Pool room, Deer Park, 31 October 1982 On Saturday mornings Dad always sang along loudly to Song Sung Blue on our tinny stereo: mortifying in the extreme to a teenage daughter full of her own pretensions