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.
Hazel Wood Yeovil, England, November 2010At 3am, alone in the alien landscape of medically-induced fear, I reach for the only comfort available: my iPod. With its unnerving intuition, ‘shuffle’ offers up a song I have, up to now, entirely misunderstood.
Rick Kane Perth, April 2006Someone asked, “Where’s the music?” This would be the cathartic moment. This would be where the pain flowed out as the love poured in.
Lucia Nardo Melbourne, June 1992While 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.
Maria Majsa 93 Edgewater Drive, Pakuranga, February 1982It was right after the funeral that things began to happen… the lights cut out and the music drained away like water leaving a sink.
Vin Maskell Geelong, 1971, Melbourne 1974My 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.
Maria Majsa One bedroom apartment, Herne Bay, Auckland 2007You 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.
Vin Maskell Bedroom, Williamstown, 11.30pm, 2007To listen to Feelings Of Grief is to swim out beyond the buoys, where the water is too deep and the shore too distant.
Paul Kelly 2006I asked Richard if it would be better if I resigned and he got someone else, someone who could orchestrate properly.
Brian Nankervis Driving To North Balwyn, July 2002I'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.