Tag Archives: Music memoir

THE ROAD GOES EVER ON

Songs For Beginners Wild Tales Earth & Sky Innocent Eyes Songs For Survivors This Path Tonight Sipping black tea and staring at the pirouetting ghosts in a bush campfire are conducive to having a bit of a sing. I learned this when I participated in the Adventure Camping program of the Anglican Department of Christian […]

ALL THINGS MUST PASS

In Australia we did not get the impressive boxed version of All Things Must Pass. Our version was a three-panel gatefold sleeve with the lyrics printed inside. We did get the poster, though. A dark  3’ x 2’ portrait of a morose, hairy George. But our flimsy fold-out was disappointing. The box had solidity, gravitas. […]

HALF A CENTURY OF EXPERIENCE

Sometimes you miss music the first time around. That was true for me and Jimi Hendrix, the man who set fire to the cosy cottage of sixties pop music. The ex-paratrooper landed with a multi-hued explosion in the UK, producing not one but two key albums in the seminal year of 1967.  Old friend and […]

THE LATE ROOSTER

For more than four years I’ve wanted to write about the first LP I bought. Over a year ago I finally squeezed out a first draft. Didn’t really like it and the file sat there on the desktop staring dolefully back at me whenever I glanced around for blogging inspiration. The second version stripped back […]

WORLDS IN A MAGICIAN’S HAT

Yesterday I ran a beginner’s dungeon for a group of children between the ages of 11 and 15 (plus an embedded 50-something). Today I’m recovering. The convalescent state rekindled a process of memory-mining around my introduction to the prince of all role-playing games, an excavation that began last year when I read David M. Ewalt’s […]

TIME — IN QUAALUDES AND RED WINE

When you are in pain, time has the capacity for slowing to a torturous crawl. Such was the lot of your correspondent this week, as one of the Vinyl Connection bicuspids decided it was sick and tired of meekly sitting between ripping canine and grinding molar and transformed, Jekyll and Hyde-like, into a small white […]

FINGERS LIKE SPIDERS

Most of us can remember those family visits we were forced to endure as a child. The Uncle and Aunty who served the stale biscuits, Dad’s former work colleague and his wife whose own child, fully two years older, totally ignored the visiting juvenile, the Grandparents whose dusty, dim house imprisoned you for the mandatory […]