MESSAGE TO MY GIRL by SPLIT ENZ Fiction by Jeff Dowsing
There are guidelines to making a mix tape when you're in love: no heavy metal, no techno, no hip hop, no breakup elegies, no schmaltzy love songs and definitely no Phil Collins or Rick Astley.
There are guidelines to making a mix tape when you're in love: no heavy metal, no techno, no hip hop, no breakup elegies, no schmaltzy love songs and definitely no Phil Collins or Rick Astley.
Music was beginning to assert its life-long hold over me, but it still played a distant second fiddle to being a part of a team of twelve boys dressed in pads, batting gloves and protectors.
Clawing for the echoes of what was; an ode to imperfect romance...a short film by Jesse Maskell
The immediacy of streaming could never quite replace the satisfaction of buying, owning, and holding music in my hands. And the streaming service’s omnipresent “Daily Mix” – chosen especially for me! – was not so much spookily playful as downright nefarious, with the accompanying emails bordering on harassment.
The G.P. took one look at me and called an ambulance. After Emergency I was wheeled up to the cardiac ward and connected to the heart monitor.
I was like another brother to Jessica. She fancied my band mates more than me, so that was bit of a drag. We did share a love for one particular song, though.
Is Mr Brightside really “one of the most seminal pieces of music of this century"? Hugh Jones dares to dampen the Richmond premiership celebrations.
As a Bowie aficionado Jack couldn’t hold a candle to Dennis, but this track burns deep at the best of times, and obliterates him in the worst. Such as now.
My Wurlitzer piano had evolved from designs from 1954. The Wurlitzer ‘electro-mechanical’ Electronic Pianos ceased production in 1984. However, original instruments are now considered retro and funky.
It was, for the moment, their song. They liked it because they’d discovered it, because it wasn’t whatever the rest of their classmates were tuning in to. Because it wasn’t U2. ‘Wo-ah, we’re halfway there!’ The lyrics echoed their own desperate fixation on the future.