Poem: The Birth Of (My) Music Journalism
Living in Wanganui, 1978 or 1979, I’m not old enough to care about dates at that time – but I’m under the table crying because the band KISS is on the TV in their face paint and breathing fire; frightening demons to a toddler. My folks and older brother are laughing. My bro loves KISS. He’s a classic 70s kid. He’s got a skinny skateboard and fat wheels …
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