We have a handful of stories inspired by The Rolling Stones. Just the five, which may be a fraction surprising.
We play a lot of good music, drink far too much, eat fabulously. Most of all we keep stoking the fire to keep the old house warm and our friendship ablaze. A good red helps with that.
We went through our usual repertoire, with The Rolling Stones’ Respectable rattling the rafters in Freshwater Creek.
While I can't remember being read The Very Hungry Caterpillar when I was a child, I do remember Sympathy For The Devil blaring in the car while I was still in a booster seat.
I’ve been so immersed in music before that I’ve forgotten where the knife ends and my body begins. Sometimes I wear scars of songs that move me; a nick on my finger, a burn on my wrist.
We rehearsed a great deal for our debut. The gig was in the clubrooms of the St Albans Football Club on a winter’s night, with a pig on a spit, a few barrels and a good-sized crowd.