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.
The song still belts my heart like defibrillator paddles.
Tickets for our concert on Saturday 15 June at the 2019 Williamstown Literary Festival are now on sale.
After that moment where life seemed beautiful, my father had a visit from the sherriff’s department and ended up serving a year in county for elder abuse (though forgery and theft charges were dropped in the plea deal).
Luke Davies pays tribute to his father, via Frank Sinatra's version of My Way.
It was the lyric and the lilt that hooked me in. The metaphor about the airstrip, the plane and hope. And I’d never heard a song that referred to Casablanca, the movie.
Mainly I wrote songs for their own sake - most were never performed in front of an audience.
Tt was an enjoyment I kept to myself because sometimes that’s just the way it is. I did wonder if I was the only person in Melbourne, in Australia, listening to Steve Forbert. A one-man fan club. A secret society. A lone, solo follower.
Tchaikovsky: Serenade for Strings in C, Op. 48 – III. Elégie: Larghetto elegiaco. Poem by Stephen Andrew
Staring at nothing/But sleep’s petulant absence./Most nights were like this/Toward the end.
I never learn her name and I never speak to her. I don’t change my tutorial time so that I can be in a tute with her, the way I had done in my American History unit the previous semester with a boy who’d caught my eye in much the same way.