Every so often you come across a song which can demolish you; take you down in slow-mo, floor by floor like an old hotel, ending in a puff of plaster and dust. Maria Majsa, writing about Between The Bars by Elliot Smith.
The Dancing Dog, Footscray, May 2015
Heather and I grinned and looked at each other through the night, as if to say, ‘How did all this happen?’ ‘Is our son really this good?’ and ‘Who would have believed this?’
With a scowl that could scorch the tops of crème brûlée, I would stalk through the bar to the alleyway to glower outside until the song ended. Even the rotting potato peels and pools of stale beer were preferable to hearing it again.