Darren 'Smokie' Dawson loves his footy, his cricket, his hats and his music. He came into Stereo Stories' orbit via The Footy Almanac.
The images were blurry but I witnessed a momentous event in human history and I’ll never forget it.
I don’t buy the album after the gig at the merch desk because I’m still holding onto the memory of hearing Chasing Van, of savouring it, of treasuring it. I don’t want to make a commercial transaction. Yet.
For a minute in history, it is 8:11 AM Australian Eastern Standard Time on Monday 12 May 2019. The moment stretches out to the sound of coffee sips...
The lyrics of Rattlin’ Bones were apocalyptic and disorienting but somehow strangely comforting after our deeply personal experiences of the Black Saturday fires.
We mourn the dead, but if they touched us in some way they never really die.
James Reyne was unable to mask his concern, yelling into the microphone: “We are not coming back on until you have all stopped fighting!” And with that, the band hurriedly disappeared from the stage.
The opening bars of Tucker’s Daughter will forever be associated with the interminable wait during school dancing lessons of holding the clammy hands of a socially inept male counterpart.
When we tire of climbing and jumping, we let the current drift us back to our towels and trannies, still keeping an eye out for snakes swimming in the river; supposedly they can’t strike in water, but we don’t want to test the theory.
In a car with my first lover/our relationship fraught, almost over./Song on the radio.