Nick Drake. The wonder of discovery of this lost soul for many of us in the late 90s. Ghostly and withdrawn he passes through like something remarkable outside your window you’re likely to miss.
Nick Drake
‘Tight framing of shots,’ 1974
It’s like I’m caught on flypaper, trying to leave the Scottish bar: they’re on to me, an American tourist here for a week, all of them asking questions. It starts with the old guy and his dog who’s sniffing my… Read More ›
You can’t retweet a memory: Nick Drake, Starbucks, why we roast turkeys
Hurting, brooding, kind of liking how it feels, discovering pain and self-pity as a teenager, with Bob Dylan’s Blood on the Tracks. When I hear those songs now it reminds me of that time and it’s even better, it’s been auto-corrected. At… Read More ›
I hear sadness
You can hear what you want to hear – or if you’re not lucky, you can’t control it. I like the sound of sadness, when it’s based in love and celebration, a last goodbye, until next time. So I hear… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 