morrissey in pinkOh, but this did make me smile.

And then I came across this and smiled some more.

And now I'm reading this and yes, of course, I'll buy and read the autobiography. I love the way he writes. How could you not love the man who sang the ever-melodic 'and if a double decker bus, crashes into us, to die by your side, well the pleasure and the privilidge is mine'.

The first moment of true Smiths appreciation I can remember was watching Pretty in Pink, when I was 13 or so. There's a scene where Ducky throws playing cards into an old hat, and Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want plays softly in the background. It's heartbreaking and sweet and just all the quiet angst you could hope for in a scene. We were so enamoured with all their albums my sister and I bought an enormous Morrissey poster for our bedroom wall (we shared till we were about 16). It was a couple of metres high and the paper was thick and on hot days it would pull the blu-tack off the wall and fall across the floor and the edges got so frayed and torn but we just couldn't bare to part with it. And then when I was in London, years later, I got three overdue fines from the Westminster City Library on Charing Cross Road because I'd borrowed The Queen is Dead on cassette and listened to it over and over and over again, well past the return date, while my first English winter rained away outside my window (yes, a cassette - on my walkman, it was the 90s after all).

I'm looking forward to reading about those early years in Manchester, all awkward heartbreak and class struggles and Johhny Marr's wonderful songlines in the back.



This evening, by glory of a dear friend, I was able to see Sarah Blasko perform a few songs from her upcoming album, I Awake. To present it to the world she has put together a small installation in a gallery space in Darlinghurst, with a sufficiently breathtaking video sequence and stations to listen to the album. Such a beautiful way to experience her new songs. It opens tomorrow to the public, but I had my name on the door tonight – Meg 'plus one' for a champagne and a few moments in the small space of just 60 or so, listening to one of my most favourite musicians (not to mention her handsome guitarist*). It is such a personal thing, writing a book of songs, all of them poetry in motion, then having the heart to sing them down to a room full of people. I’ve been a bit in love with each and every one of Sarah’s albums, but her latest work has blown me away. It seems stronger and more defined and her voice feels more full. I don’t know, maybe it was that one champagne, but I was overwhelmed with the glimpse that I had tonight. The first song she played, just her and the piano, was An Oyster, A Pearl. I was struck by how sometimes it feels like a song was written just for you, and you hear it at just the right time in life.  For me, at a time when I am trying to write again, to put words and pages down to crate some order in my mind, she broke my heart just a bit.

Write down what you know and let your feelings show Be who you are and give all that you’ve got It’s easy and as hard as this Though you try to resist

 It’s just the way of this world Let it be your oyster, your pearl Make you an honest girl Let it be your oyster, your pearl     

That she sang it with the richest voice and, just quietly, a really lovely dress, made it all the more amazing.

* The handsome guitarist may or may not be married to another dear friend of mine.