SURFING MAGAZINES by THE GO-BETWEENS. Story by Mark ‘Swish’ Schwerdt
Surely Robert Forster wasn’t a surfer, you initially think. He’s having a lend of us. But he isn’t. Or is he?
A genesis tale. Story by Vin M
You don’t have to agree on everything, you don’t have to like the same bands, or like the same bands as much, but there is a bond, a thread.
I’M INTERESTED IN APATHY by TISM. Story by David Oke.
My muso son Dan texted me. He said that a friend of a friend of a friend is a daughter of a TISM band member.
WEIR by KILLING HEIDI. Poem by Michael Leach.
We are two writers and performers of verse born in regional Victoria back in ’83, two people who are now pushing 40, who are now moving even further from youth radio station Triple J’s target demographic.
MIS’RY IS MY MIDDLE NAME by WARREN ELLIS and JOHN ELLIS. Story by Louise Maskell
A few seconds pass. His gaze goes behind the counter. To a small ornate wooden frame. And an image inside. “Is that Mary?” “No. It’s Jesus. It’s a da Vinci. From a museum in Amsterdam.”
BOB THE KELPIE by DON SPENCER. Story by Kate Foulds.
The waitress began to fuss over our beautiful dog before telling us us her husband, Mark, played banjo on a song called Bob The Kelpie.
WESTGATE by MARK SEYMOUR. Story by Chris Phillips
Grandpa never forgot what he saw. He told me years later that he thought the Mobil Refinery on Francis St must have exploded.
WHEN YOUR LOVE IS GONE by JIMMY BARNES. Poem by Michael Leach
Michael Leach recalls hearing a Jimmy Barnes song, 30 years apart.
I’M STAINED by THE SUPERJESUS. Limerick by Michael Leach
Michael Leach pens a limerick about a Superjesus guitar pick.
NOW AND THEN by THE SUPERJESUS. Prose poem by Michael Leach
On a fresh midmorning, I alight my bus at the east end of Adelaide’s CBD and proceed to speed walk along cracked concrete, as The Superjesus’s track ‘Now and Then’ begins on my iPod.