Art Sex MusicFaber & Faber, 4. apr. 2017 - 384 síður A SUNDAY TIMES, TELEGRAPH, ROUGH TRADE, PITCHFORK AND UNCUT MUSIC BOOK OF THE YEAR |
From inside the book
... dressed up and, as instructed, standing outside awaiting permission to enter. The hospital was Victorian, old red brick, with tall windows, austere. The cancer ward Granddad was in smelled of what I imagined decaying bodies must smell ...
... dressing gowns to keep our legs warm, and then climbed into bed. Luckily we shared a bed at that stage in our lives, so we kept each other warm. When I wasn't gallivanting about outside and was in the house alone, I'd frequently go into ...
... dressing table, where, in pride of place, sat a marquetry musical jewellery box that Dad had bought Mum on one of his journeys overseas. It had a main compartment on the top that was locked, and two small drawers either side. I soon ...
... dressed with a pocket watch tucked neatly into his waistcoat. I'd play for hours with the broken silver watch chains he kept on the mantelpiece, pretending they were snakes slithering along the floor. What strikes me most, looking back ...
... dressed on the street? Only he was allowed to take photos? My mum and dad often went out on their motorbike wearing padded satin fur-lined jumpsuits that looked like air pilots' uniforms. We'd regularly go to the seaside at weekends ...