August

In August 2009 this blog was born. I was reading The Ask and the Answer.

On this day in 2010 I was singing along to Darren Hanlon's latest (at the time) album.

Around this time in 2011 I was reading Yellowcake and enjoying some MWF sunshine.

In 2012 I  was being brief (though excited) about books, and keen to hear The Futureheads' acapella album, RANT.

August last year... who knows, really... But I had been to see Joan Baez (has it really been a year?!) and was soon to muse on the cost of books.

Skipping to the present day...

AUGUST 2014

Four months (almost to the day) after being retrenched from my in-house editor job, I am cheerfully living the #rockstarfreelancelifestyle, editing picture books for Little Hare and proofreading whatever comes my way.

I have also returned to my original career as a children's bookseller! I like to think of it as working at the coal face. Excitingly, this includes visiting local primary schools...

And there's time to read.

The protag has already eaten at least one "simple meal".

I loved it. In spite of this cynical review.

Some pop-lit-psych as an entree to understanding literacy.

And the end of August is bringing SPRING to Melbourne. It's (starting to be) T-shirt Weather!

some music in your book, madame?

king dork, frank portman

We had been working pretty hard to get the band ready for the Festival of Lights. We weren't sounding too bad. It was still pretty rough, but, in our better moment, we sounded kind of like Buddy Holly meets Thin Lizzy with a punk rock sensibility and a slight psychedelic edge, like UFO playing Velvet Underground songs or something.

about a girl & mahalia, joanne horniman

When she'd played four songs straight she paused. She had kicked off her black rubber thongs and was sitting on a chair in the spotlight barefoot, bare-shouldered, dark-haired, with her white guitar cradled in her arms like a lover. She drummed her feet lightly on the floor, staring into space as though considering what to play next.

It was a simple, dignified song, sung with strength and purpose. Eliza improvised, and sang on, oblivious of Matt standing in the shadows, listening. She played with the notes, bent them and warbled them, whispered them, and cried them out, her whole body, her mouth and lungs and chest an instrument for the sound.

after january, nick earls

This is just another item on the growing list of things I am unlikely to tell the people I went to school with when I see them next. So what did you do at the coast? Well, one day I sat on a stool in the hinterland and a hippy family played pop songs for me.
That was great, Cliff says. What did you think Alex?
Yeah, really good.
So, do you sing?
Me? No.
I think you might, F says. I think you might be about to.

if you like a bit of music in yr books, there are many others i'd recommend:

if i stay, gayle foreman, just listen, sarah dessen, nick and norah's infinite playlist, rachel cohn & david levithan, queen of the night, leanne hall (wolfboy is in band), amy and roger's epic detour, morgan matson, rpm, noel mengel, the true story of butterfish, nick earls
(not a complete list)

(badges by Carrie the Excellent via the sticky institute, lyrics by mr darren hanlon and messieurs donald, monnone and white aka the lucksmiths)

the golden age of aviation

Cath Crowley recently posted a playlist for Graffiti Moon, which included Sunlight in a Jar by The Lucksmiths.

Overblown libretto and a sumptuous score
Could never contain the contradictions I adore
We can just be chaos and then something aligns
It's so hard to contain, maintain it or define it

So, inspired, I thought what's better on a ever-so-slightly grey Sunday than a little Luckmiths singalong?

From the album Staring at the Sky, The Golden Age of Aviation is one of my all-time favourite Luckies songs*.



The Golden Age of Aviation

For argument’s sake let’s pretend we could stop arguing
Over which of us is wrong and why it isn’t you
We’re barely awake before your head’s up in the clouds again
There’s nothing you like more than having nothing much to do

Stood akimbo
Staring out the window at the sky

All afternoon you’ve been buried in a biography
Of an aviatrix lost at sea, never to be found
Holed up in your room, holding out for an apology
But gravity will get to you eventually

You’ll come down from upstairs again
With all those model aeroplanes

And the novelty wore off
When the pilots still wore goggles
But your eyes look skywards
And your mind still boggles

I’m going grey but you look younger than a year ago
When you put your hair in pigtails and you put your hand in mine
We’ll be OK - I’m happy when you’re here
But oh, your smile can seem as far away as once upon a time

You can’t help it
Hopelessly nostalgic

A passing interest in the past
But I think it’s going to last a little longer
I’ll hold on to your hand as tightly as I can
But modelling glue is stronger

The novelty wore off
When the pilots still wore goggles
But your eyes look skywards
And your mind still boggles
Through frequent flyers’ disappointments and disasters
The golden age of aviation never lost its lustre

*I love planes, am the first to look skyward at the sound of one.
Here's the 'Little Ripper', my grandfather's Piper Arrow.
If you ever want to get me a present, I would like to go up in a biplane.

a weekend adventure southside

Anchors away!
Granted one last summer's day
We watched the sunset silhouette
The western suburbs across the bay
And when the sky was monochrome
We drained our drinks and headed home
Past bright-eyed boys in business suits
Tourists, where once were prostitutes

And you proposed a promenade
Neither of us knows
Follow the yellow brick apartment blocks
The Californian bungalows

But remember when you're wandering alongside
The river has a right side and a wrong side
Remember when you're wandering alongside
The river has a right side and a wrong side

I confess it's been a year, or little less
Since last I sallied forth
From the friendly confines of the north
But a single seagull's cry hangs in the quiet suburban sky
And for a moment I'm amazed
I ever claimed to hate this place

But remember when you're wandering alongside
The river has a right side and a wrong side
Just remember when you're wandering alongside
The river has a right side and a wrong side

~ Transpontine, The Lucksmiths

Amy and Roger's Epic Detour

started amy and roger's epic detour (by morgan matson published by simon and schuster) today and so far it's quite good. but the most exciting thing is the quote that opens chapter two:




yes! that's the luckies' song california in popular song from the final (amazing) album first frost.
read a review of first frost here. buy it here.
visit morgan matson's website here.

punter's club reunion show

check it out!

before it was called bimbos and served cheap pizzas to the drunken masses (hey, before brunswick street was gentrified and filled with colour-by-numbers hipsters and tourists) the building that sits on the corner of brunswick and rose streets was an excellent live music venue called the punters club. when it closed, people were sad. but now there's a couple of nights for nostalgia and tribute and hopefully much drunkenness and music.

and so, in tribute, (as always) THE LUCKSMITHS:

Requiem for the Punter's Club

Have you been drinking?
'Cause it's not too late to start
There's still a week
Before they come and pull the place apart
And I was thinking
I have sorrows to be drowned
Too complete to contemplate
Without a friend around

On Brunswick Street the bits of broken glass
Sparkle brighter than the six or seven stars

And I'm reminded
Of a Sunday afternoon
How the sunlight caught the cigarette smoke
Curling through the room
And you behind it
Your hair in rubber bands
One more for the footpath
And we walked home holding hands

Like the weekenders and window-shoppers do
We were happier than either of us knew

So act surprised
It's been a while since I came calling
I know it's late
But old times' sake and all that junk
I'll be alright
We'll make tonight tomorrow morning

Sometimes you want to go
Where everybody knows you're drunk

synchronised sinking

it's a beautiful day today - t-shirt weather in fact - and i'm listening to the lucksmiths. this song made me think about mimi and the blue slave (recent read) for the nautical theme and also inspired a scene (yes! finally! inspiration!) in the story i'm writing. and by golly do i love the luckies, so any chance to share them.

Synchronised Sinking, The Lucksmiths

You don't need to ask me twice
I'm not averse to giving advice
On a barstool basis
Four o'clock sounds fine to me
I'll meet you at the library
There's privacy in public places
Oh, but, reader, heal thyself
Put the book back on the shelf

Something's obviously wrong
Your face is all day long
It was lovely when you laughed
Come on – please get it off your chest
It's a commonplace but I'd suggest
A problem shared is a problem halved
Kick a stone across the road
Explain or you'll explode

Here we are
Silhouetted in the smoke
From the shipwrecks at the bar
Of the Anchor and Hope
And I haven't seen you smile in quite a while

Why don't you let go of your boy and see
You've lost none of your buoyancy?
So sobersided
Overboard and undecided
Have you come to the conclusion
That you've come to the conclusion?
Have you come to the conclusion
That you've come to the conclusion?

You're unsure
But at least you're thinking
This looks more and more
Like synchronised sinking
And I haven't seen you smile in quite a while
And I haven't seen you anywhere in ages
Knowing how you must be hating this
Going down with the relationship

so if you've never heard this one before, imagine with your ears a quick - almost ferocious - beat, jangly guitar and a melodica. from the album why that doesn't surprise me, available at Polyester Records (and from lots and lots and lots of other places too). this is one of my favourite albums. mama bear sent it to me while i was living in (now what does georgia nicholson call it?) och aye land and it was a lovely slice of home with summery beats and really aussie accents and references to the great dividing range, trams, the rooftops of north carlton and the excellent lyric "i love a sunburnt elbow pointing to the sea" from the year of driving langourously.

for a friend...

From Macaulay Station - The Lucksmiths

I know by now
That no-one cheers up when told to
That it's more the arms that hold you
Than whatever words are said
Of course I know
But you can't blame me for trying
I could hardly hear you crying
For the traffic overhead

There will come a time
When there will come a train
To take us somewhere else

You figured out
You needn't break a promise
For it to be dishonest
For you to be undone
But spare yourself the self-recriminations
And summon all your patience
For the summer still to come

'Cause there will come a time
When there will come a train
To take us somewhere else
Far away from the factory shells
And the shades of grey
From the pools of piss and the broken glass
Underneath the overpass
From the rush-hour roar and the nagging rain
There will come a time
There will come a train....

(if you didn't already know, the luckies are my favourite and my best. visit them here.)

melbourne weather

things are bizarre in melbourne. one day i am all scarves and gloves and foggy breath. then the next (today) i get a bit sunburnt having lunch outside. in honour of this weather i have copied out the lyrics to one of my most favourite summery sunny day songs:

t-shirt weather, the lucksmiths

hey mike, you busy?
all this sunshines making me dizzy
went outside, all my clothes dried
and if i'm babbling, please forgive me
but its the first hint of sunshine
for a week or so, i'd say
and i'm keeping well, i'm in good health
but i sneeze when i look into the sun today

there's my bike looking dusty
the spokes are broken and rusty
but i'm happy to walk
i'm happy with anything today
'cause i'm out in the sunshine
while my friends at home asleep
i guess thats just the downside
to the money he makes and the hours he keeps

and i say hey, its a beautiful day
and i'm starting to feel a lot better
so wake up, wake up
it's t-shirt weather

ba-ba-ba how could things be better?
this afternoon in the pub I met her
'maggie may' on the juke-box
hey, things are okay
just two things she tells me,
if you want to keep things friendly
no beer for me, no peanuts, and i'll be happy
oh, and no football, well i guess that makes three

its a beautiful day
and i'm starting to feel a lot better
so wake up, wake up
it's t-shirt weather
its t-shirt weather

sadly, the lucksmiths broke up last year (it broke my heart, surely) but you can buy their cds at polyester records and from the lost and lonesome record label. and, trust me, this song never gets old.

one about music

just back from last ever, final lucksmiths gig. it was fab-tastic, my ears are still ringing - mostly from the cheers and shouts and claps and screams that got us two encores. i'm pretty sad that they've decided to end the band, but it was such a great night that i had no time to dwell. (just a few tears at the end)

the corner hotel hosted the event in their delightful sticky-floored way. the crowd was ace.

the songs spanned their entire 12 disc catalogue from the beautiful "weatherboard" from that album with the giraffe on it (first tape) to the newest first frost album - "california in popular song" and "a sobering thought". the universal, eternal favourite "t-shirt weather" was a loud and manic experience! finishing off with "the year of driving langurously" was divine. "has it really been a year? where the hell do we go from here?" where do i go from here? i feel a lucksmiths tribute band a-comin'.

will defo need coffee tomorrow.