If I never heard a new song on commercial radio, I’d be ok. I am only really happy listening to the music that I know. Angus and Julia Stone. Bob Evans. Crowded House. Darren Hayes. Fleetwood Mac. Genevieve Maynard. Kings of Leon. Matchbox Twenty. Motorace. Nirvana. Roxette. Sia. Silverchair. U2 prior to everything they released since All That You Can’t Leave Behind. You Am I. Shuffle and repeat.
Hold on. Woah. That can’t be right. I’m the girl who alphabetised the lyrics cut carefully from TV Hits magazine in the late 80s and right through to the mid 90s. If I can’t see a band from the front row, it’s not worth being there. And I once scraped through Statistics 101 at uni because I analysed two years of Australian music on the ARIA Charts. I can’t be falling out of love with music.
I’m getting old, turning into my parents.