I went with my mum, Bonnie, to Chaddy (the shopping centre) to the record shop, trying to look cool with Amco jeans, granny shirt and hair as long as it would stretch and browsed ... seriously.
Damian Balassone’s contribution to Stereo Stories is not just on the page, so to speak.
My brother Paul was into the Minneapolis/St. Paul punk scene at the time, complete with ripped jeans, jack boots and spiked hair. He loaned me his album Rocket To Russia.
The Neil Young collection of Stereo Stories is quite small – just seven pieces so far – but each sings its own tune, so to speak. And two of the contributions are from two of Australia’s finest writers.
I worried the distance would be a death sentence as I found myself alone in my best friend’s mostly empty new living room, 1681 miles from any possibility of weeknight concerts, impromptu G&Ts and sushi, Galentine’s Day, movie marathons, holiday gatherings, city adventures, beach birthdays, and drop-everything post-tragedy afternoons of comfort TV.
Outside when the Grade 6 party was in full swing, the song that stands out in my memory was not the A side of the 45 vinyl, but the B side.
Peter Maskell and Brian Nankervis . Photo by Peter Weaving, courtesy of Bendigo Writers Festival, May 2021. Yes, folks, we'll be performing at The Memo Music Hall in St Kilda on Sunday afternoon, 14 November. Joining our eight piece ensemble will be guest writers Brian Nankervis, Carmel Bird Danny Katz and Jenny Valentish. [...]
The celebrant spoke, but I didn’t hear a word. I fell into a trance, absorbing every once-in-a-lifetime second.
A piano is broken. Burnt, seemingly. A harp is stranded, unplayable. Chairs in a once lavish dining room are rotting.
He is the magpie, the bowerbird, the blue jay. Bob Dylan collects words. He rephrases his music again and again.