NOW WE ARE FREE by LISA GERRARD Story by Shalom Aranas
Papa, I understood how you stood against the world when it came to the principles you protected. I understood your sense of space in that old pawnshop where you read books by Alexandre Dumas and Arthur Conan Doyle.
NUTBUSH CITY LIMITS by TINA TURNER. Story by Ann Banham.
With a couple of drinks and the old audio system turned up as loud as it would go, we put Nutbush on rotation and hit the timeworn wooden floorboards.
NUTBUSH CITY LIMITS by TINA TURNER. Story by Bill Arnott.
Mom and I got matching black tee-shirts with strutting, spiky-haired Tina embossed on the front.
O LOVELY PEACE by GEORGE FRIEDRICH HANDEL. Story by Felicity Sandral
As a teenager, I harboured completely delusional fantasies about becoming a classical musician. I mean. Completely. Delusional
Ocean Of You by The Blackeyed Susans
Vin Maskell The Continental, Prahran, July 1996I wrote letters to my sister about those five Tuesday nights. Hand-written letters, with air-mail stamps on them. Letters with the name of songs and guest musicians. Letters that travelled the world.
OCEANS AWAY by ROGER DALTREY. Story by Sue Dann.
Everyone has a playlist of pain, the songs that bring the sometimes forgotten, partly processed pieces of our past to come rushing to the surface, raw, to be felt again.