SOMETHING GOOD by BIC RUNGA Story by Damian Balassone
I'm eating a cheap and nasty pizza – a fitting feed for a failed novelist. I’m watching The Panel. About three slices in they introduce a New Zealander called Bic Runga. I’m enraptured.
MANDY by BARRY MANILOW Story by Vin Maskell
I thanked her for taking the trouble to find me and silently wondered if her seeking me out was a country-town courtesy, a form of hospitality that may not happen in the hustle and bustle and traffic of a city. I did not flatter myself to think she may have seen more in me all those years ago than I’d realised.
ANTMUSIC by ADAM & THE ANTS Story by Sarah Vincent
Red carnations mean the deepest of love. I would love it and care for it and it would be an eternal living symbol of my deep love for Adam and his love for his fans.
FRANKLY MR SHANKLY by THE SMITHS Story by Ralie Realtor
Tired. Burnt out. I want out. I don’t want to be here. I need something new. What’s next? No solid plans. Wing it. Improvise. Until the money runs out. Or until I get bored doing nothing.
GALVESTON by GLEN CAMPBELL Story by David Oke
As a ten year old I was quite oblivious to the meaning of Galveston – a cry out from an American soldier in Vietnam who is recalling happy memories back home while on the battlefront.
I’VE GOT A PLAN by MY FRIEND THE CHOCOLATE CAKE Story by Vin M
Save for the weeds, not much grows in our front yard. The soil is rubbish, almost literally. “What’s the plan?” my neighbour says cheerily, as I'm weeding.
RUMOUR HAS IT by ADELE Story by Vin Maskell
Dad’s always said that he doesn’t dance. I believed him.
PEGGY SUE by BUDDY HOLLY Story by Stephen Andrew
With every parting handshake Brendon would tilt his head slightly, lift an eyebrow and advise me to "stick to the shadows".
CHERISH by DAVID CASSIDY Story by Peter Maskell
On the black and white TV one show in particular held my attention. It was about a large family. I was eight years old and, became, yes, a bit obsessed with the show’s star.
HOWZAT by SHERBET Story by Rick Kane
So there I was, at the WACA indoor nets with 100 flushed and excited teenage girls, ready to bowl to Daryl Braithwaite.