It may sound ironic for me to say this as a Writer, however I truly believe that the best things in life extend beyond language. Music remains one of my greatest inspirations. Brilliant music takes me to a place past words. It sends tones into the pit of my stomach that somehow stir me and make me want to express that feeling that is simply inexplicable.

I’ve lived in Australia for eight years. I’ve seen a lot of bands. I’ve heard about Melbourne’s pools of talent. I’ve experienced some great live acts.

Nothing quite like these boys:

We all know about my graveyard thing – that’s beside the point. Since I posted The Dead Folk Dance yesterday in the name of Friday the 13th, I’ve been googling Graveyard Train like it’s my job which led to the purchase of their fucking unbelievable album, The drink, the devil, and the dance.

I’ve been playing it on repeat all morning along with the Brothers Grim album, a broken tuesday session, which James Grim kindly put in my hands last Saturday.

Some of you Aussies out there have been to Brothers Grim shows with me already. Mix them with Graveyard Train and there you go, like I was getting at earlier… speechless.

Get there.

I’m going to get back to work. The track I’m presently obsessing over while I piece together book pieces is Funeral by Graveyard Train… track 12. I’m always partial to the dark shit…

So pour one down your throat, and the next on my grave. Drink with me darlin, to all of them days – to all that was lost that I thought would be saved…