In my collected, handwritten lyrics book, this one is wedged between two, sprawling, double-page-spread streams of consciousness, which gives you a sense of the ecosystem from which it emerged. This song, written in May of 1992, captures my angry dissolution…

This song rips my heart out every time. I wrote it in early 1991, after hearing from my then girlfriend that she was leaving with a one way ticket to travel Europe to “find herself”. It was a heady mix…

This is another song written in March of 1992 in Budapest. I don’t know what was in the water but the grey skies and the realisation of being on the other side of the world must have been acting as…

Of all the songs I’ve uploaded to music streaming services, this one is my guilty pleasure. It was written by a very young me in the early 90s but brought to life by my virtual session band. I still can…

This is a very personal song that got out some thoughts that were proving difficult to put into words. To me, this is the innate value of songwriting. It imposes a framework and mindset that helps you find different connections.…

In life, we are likely to encounter at least one crook or a$$hole who takes advantage of us. For me, there’s really only been a handful but the worst one was a greedy, narcissistic business consultant who I worked for…

There were a number of posts about the hidden cost to society of parents who have lost children, especially through stillbirth, keeping quiet about it. The concept is that when traumatic events are kept held down beneath the surface, there…

Sometimes the most unlikely friendships produce the most spectacular moments. Case in point: my daughter AJ and her mate Bella, two humans who are different in many ways, yet somehow create absolute musical mayhem together that would make the cast…

There’s something perverse about discovering your new favourite gin while the world appears to be careening toward some sort of finale. But that’s exactly what happened the evening “Let The Gin Work Its Magic” spilled out of me, courtesy of…

Saturday night at my local pub. I was watching two distinct performances unfold. At one table, fifty-somethings engaged in serious conversation. Decades of accumulated wisdom on display. But I noticed something. That momentary crack when a laugh held too long,…