MOONGLOW by ARTIE SHAW. Poem by D. R. James.
Until/somebody’s wedding, I only saw Mom/dance big-band behind an ironing board...
THE STABLE SONG by GREGORY ALAN ISAKOV. Story by N.T. McQueen.
On her trip, she bought a baggy t-shirt at a thrift shop. Being the resident movie/book/music encyclopedia, she had asked me while she was gone if I had heard of Gregory Alan Isakov.
THIS CHARMING MAN by THE SMITHS. Story by Baz Blakeney.
Like almost every other trainee genius at art school, I played in a band. Or bands. “It’s like some Northern England punks have rediscovered Motown,” I said. In hindsight, it was a poor description, but it sounded right at the time.
VOODOO CHILE by JIMI HENDRIX. Poem by D. R. James.
Rural Illinois, 1969 Kissed-Off Lord knows I’m a voodoo chil’. —Jimi Hendrix Until that night a girl had only kissed me. Not I a girl. I was fifteen and for over a year Jimi’d been telling me he was a voodoo chil’, yeah, and I wasn’t. No moon had [...]
(SITTING ON) THE DOCK OF THE BAY by OTIS REDDING. Story by Bill Arnott.
In the lee of an old wooden dock with barnacled pilings, fishing boats bobbed at anchor.
LANDSLIDE by THE (DIXIE) CHICKS. Story by Janet Brown.
That’s it. That’s the bit in the song. The gulp catches my breath. Staring out the windscreen and emotion spills from me and fogs the glass.
UP WILSON in IRELAND. Story by Robert Lastdrager.
The Fender Stratocaster guitar sat propped up vertical on a barstool at waist height, like a ventriloquist’s dummy, the strings facing the audience.
KILLER by PHOEBE BRIDGERS. Story by Molly Jones.
There’s nothing the policewoman can do. My witness is the cloudless sky, and I know he’ll lie about it.
WHAT A WONDERFUL WORLD by LOUIS ARMSTRONG. Story by Violet St Clair.
From Strauss to the Stones, I jammed my classroom with music, matching songs and symphonies to subjects, activities, and transitions.
The 2024 concert season
We will be performing four shows this year; three at writers’ festivals, and one under own umbrella, so to speak.