I AM A ROCK by PAUL SIMON. Story by Sue Beeton
I play Simon and Garfunkel as loud as my portable turntable lets me, drowning out my fears as I yell out the words.
AMERICA by PAUL SIMON. Story by M.B Donnelly
Simon’s opener was “America”, first recorded with Art Garfunkel for Bookends in 1968. Now, a half century later, this song had seen Simon progress from youth to old age, from folk rock to wildly creative musical experimentation that spanned the globe.
MOTHER AND CHILD REUNION by PAUL SIMON. Story by Maria Haughey.
The burial went quickly. Quicker than planned. The weather turned just before the rosary. A localised storm – affectionately recorded for posterity as Hurricane Maureen – came rolling through.
GRACELAND by PAUL SIMON. Story by Kate Foulds.
We met for school holiday screenings of La Bamba and Dirty Dancing at the same tech high gym where we painted thick black circles around our eyes and teased our hair until it looked like Jon Bon Jovi’s – ahead of our Rock Eisteddfod pilgrimage to The Royal Melbourne Showgrounds.
SOUND OF SILENCE by DISTURBED Story by Sandy Kavanagh
A friend had brought his portable record player to our camp site, a dry creek bed. Sitting in front of that roaring fire, toasting marshmallows, we were introduced to the songs of Simon & Garfunkel.