The Smokers’ seven glorious minutes. Memoir by Earl O’Neill
...we took it down, we took it further up, further down, rolling on the energy, every time a bit more crazy and loose and loud, louder, quieter, louder, and seven minutes in...
HYPERACTIVE CHILD by DEAD KENNEDYS. COVID-19 tip from Stephen Andrew
That night I hung out down the back of the venue because the molten mosh pit at the foot the stage was simply terrifying.
Kalt by Kælan Mikla. Story by Rijn Collins
Their own webpage describes them as a cross between Diamanda Galás and The Birthday Party. I tell a friend they are like Bikini Kill mixed with Joy Division. We’re both correct.
WALKING ABOUT by VENOM P. STINGER. Story by Jane Leonard
Mid bite, it happens. There on my TV screen, just for a few seconds, doing an intense wiggily kind of jogging on the spot, is a girl with cropped spiky, reddy-bleached hair wearing an oversized suit jacket. I just about choke on my crumpet.
BAD REPUTATION by JOAN JETT and the BLACKHEARTS. Story by Rick Kane
It was as if I had heard Bad Reputation for the first time. As it directly related to my sister. As it stands as a song. And it is, my friends, a ripper.
LONDON CALLING by THE CLASH Story by Stephen Andrew
We wouldn’t have called it shoplifting, but we also knew we had to be surreptitious when we set about manually adjusting Coles’ profit margin.
I WILL DARE (and other songs) by THE REPLACEMENTS. Poem by Christian Brimo
When I was with you I felt like Paul Westerberg /Yearning, hopeful, bruised but romantic
SWEET CAROLINE by ME FIRST & THE GIMME GIMMES Story by N.T. McQueen
After that moment where life seemed beautiful, my father had a visit from the sherriff’s department and ended up serving a year in county for elder abuse (though forgery and theft charges were dropped in the plea deal).
SHOULD I STAY OR SHOULD I GO? by THE CLASH Story by Rijn Collins
If you can mark your steps in the grooves of your favourite records – and we can, of course – then there will always be those songs that guide you in your leaps of faith until you land, safe and sure footed, on the other side.
ANARCHY IN THE UK by THE SEX PISTOLS Story by Paulie Stewart
This was my music. It sounded like the musical equivalent of Attila The Hun sacking Rome. If punk hadn’t come along I probably would have willed it to appear anyway.