she would go about her way, tending to everyone while Billy and his bandmates they would jam and stray but always they’d come home to stay
You see Clarence wore an old “Lou” reed like a bamboo cravat and a fine felt suit of ebony the colour of half the keys on a honkytonk piano named Hank
Unheard music is sweeter. A tongue-in-cheek look at the language of music reviews.
Flashback to the sixties, people living in the cities you got beatniks crossed with hippies sporting horizontal stripes and small goatees play a jazzy, minor chord, learn to smoke, renounce the lord
day one and two Zep II, day three and four Zep IV, four sticks/ the ciggie slim-jims keeping company with Bonham fills of tom-tom
headlights splay across a country roadway/ single lane both ways in groovy groovin’ grooves/ to the smooth, smooth sound of billie holiday
We used to walk back to his house from South Yarra Station with our vinyl school bags slung over our shoulders. When we got to the top of the hill on the Domain Road corner, we’d turn onto Punt Road and head down towards the Yarra. But we never went all the way down to the river.
Karaoke? Disco? I hate karaoke and disco about as much I hate, well, The Eurythmics. (Did I mention that I hate The Eurythmics?)
Carpenter became a recluse: first painting houses, then studying to become a Buddhist monk. He drifted between cities during those lost years, buffeted by unknown storms.
Stephen Andrew recalls the night of Bob Hawke's 1983 election triumph, via - of all things - a song called Too Shy by a band called - of of all things - Kajagoogoo.