WOULDN’T IT BE NICE by THE BEACH BOYS. Story by Lucia Nardo
We engaged Joie's Mazda 818's unofficial air conditioning—two windows down and eighty kilometres an hour—and raised our voices in chat and song over the wind streaming into the car.
OH! YOU PRETTY THINGS BY DAVID BOWIE Story by Maria Majsa
The Scottish lads had all lost their front teeth [fighting, falling over drunk] and at some point they loved to flip out their plates so we could appreciate what proper hard men they were. This may or may not have been some form of Celtic foreplay.
Summer Holiday by Cliff Richard. Story by Nick Gadd
Romance was everywhere that summer. Lads from the kitchen wooed the waitresses by carrying out their water jugs. Judy, who loved the kitchen-hand, bought him an expensive knife to help him in his career. I was besotted by Scottish Clare.
How To Make Gravy by Paul Kelly Story by Cassandra Atkinson
Paul Kelly was always played in summer, the sunny endless holidays, the excitement of Christmas Day growing ever closer, ticking those days off one by one. It was only through my parents’ divorce and the breaking up of our family into smaller divided units that I realized the true nature of the song's story.
Roll On Summer Roll On by Paul Kelly Fiction by David Wilson
David Wilson, of our partner site The Footy Almanac, writes of shifting youthful dreams: beach, cricket, a girl. And a dose of Paul Kelly.
HARD TIMES ARE OVER by YOKO ONO Poem by Stephen Andrew
Stephen Andrew Yarra River, Warrandyte, 8 December 1980 Word comes from a car radio in the riverside car park. Calling out, surreal, to nobody, “John Lennon has been shot”.
Our Sunshine by Paul Kelly and Uncle Bill. Story by Darren ‘Smokie’ Dawson
Darren 'Smokie' Dawson On the road heading north, any January, 2000 – 2010 Whether it was a longer summer sojourn to Coolangatta, or a Sunday winter's day-trip to Daylesford, it was tacitly accepted, unspoken, that when the key went into the ignition, Our Sunshine was to blast out from the speakers.
Mull of Kintyre by Wings. Story by Jeff Dowsing
Jeff Dowsing Inverloch, Victoria 1978 An abiding childhood memory is of sitting at the kitchen bench in a holiday house at Inverloch, munching Coco Pops as Mull of Kintyre played on the radio.
Down Down by Status Quo. A Black Saturday story by Stephen Andrew.
Stephen Andrew St Andrews, Victoria, March 2009 Windows open, I ramp up the volume and feel an intensity in the band’s playing that suddenly seems new to me. This opening of my senses is one of the unexpected gifts of the bushfires.
Houndog by Cold Chisel (Stereo Stories Live at Newport) Story by Stephen Andrew
Stephen Andrew Somewhere along the Hume Highway, summer of 1982 I catch myself staring too long at the sunlight on her hair, or laughing too loud at one of her jokes, and feel the sharp pierce of an unbridgeable distance.