I was somehow out of breath as if my heart had expanded in sorrow and joy, crushing my lungs.
Here’s a book about music writing that ticks a lot of boxes.
My Beatles education commenced, early before I was born
The wash of sea set a score, emanating from the base of high cliffs. I hoisted a pack and travel guitar, and made my way toward town.
It was cold there at the border/I shouted your name, bitter/winds blew strong.
All photos by Peter Charlesworth. The river of song flowed into the river of story at our sixth appearance at Write Around the Murray, in Albury on Saturday 16 September. The guest writers, all new to the format of our show, embraced narrating their stories as the band weaved in the particular [...]
For us Slovenes, Ljubljana has always been a symbol of something better, already from the modernism period, from early 20th century.
It was one of the few gigs I have ever played where all the bands on the bill supported each other with real verve during each of the performances.
Our song then started to play over the speakers as Laura handed me a light blue notebook which she said was filled with her dreams and writings.
Night times were sunburnt agony. We both lay on the edge of the bed far away from each other hissing 'Don’t touch me'. Not what you want on your honeymoon.