I mentioned the other day how much I’m enjoying listening to Swedish Radio on the internet.
This is a new song I LOVE from the Swedish band, The Ark, who represented Sweden in Eurovision a few years ago.
I know The Other Andrew is a fan of the band also.
Aside from that, it was a reasonably interesting day.
After a two week break, I was back at Swedish class, and tonight my homework was declared “jetta bra” which means very good.
I think pretty much everyone in the room laughed in recognition, as Gene Sherman told the story about the promise she and her husband had made to each other. As she noted they had been married forty-seven years and were a family that “kept promises”, she went on to say they had agreed and promised to stop purchasing art. As they approach their 70s, they realised they had close to 900 works at various locations around Sydney, and that was probably enough for them to handle. Visiting Hong Kong, however, she came across the work “Chinese Bible” by Yang Zhichao, declaring it today “the greatest work in our collection”.
And what a purchase! A collection of about 3,000 personal diaries from the time of China’s Cultural Revolution, currently on display at Sydney’s Sherman Gallery. Dr Geremie Barme from the Australian National University (who opened today’s exhibition) said the diary entries range from shopping lists to “careful thoughts”. He also noted it was often practiced during those years for people to burn their diaries, mindful they might fall into the hands of the authorities.
As you enter the gallery, you’re immediately overwhelmed by the scale of the artwork. It took three days to lay them out carefully in order on specially prepared plinths, we were told today. And then you look more closely at the works, the beautiful covers, and wonder what’s inside. Twenty-five of the diaries have been translated into English, which you can read on computers at the back of the gallery.
For me, this blog is like a diary, though nowhere as personal as something I might have written by hand and without thinking there would be a broader audience, preferring to keep my “darker thoughts” to myself. As I wandered home I thought about my own childhood diaries where I did just that. Sadly, they were washed away in the big Lismore flood of the late 1980s.
I had studied French in high school, ahead of settling on German. I don’t recall the reasons why, but I ended up studying German to HSC level. For the final two years, our school couldn’t justify enough students for a class and so we studied via the Correspondence School.
My fellow student (and friend to this day) hated the experience (and so did I). To this day, I still remember our Correspondence School teacher’s name and her handwriting. Our papers were always marked (seemingly anonymously) in red. It was such a contrast to the wonderful face to face experience we had with our teacher, Barbara. She was funny and smart. We had also travelled to Germany with her.
I’m not sure what happened and why, but I signed up for a French course on Duolingo a few years ago, and despite the constant lesson reminders, it fell by the wayside.
In the meantime, I’ve been studying Swedish with a wonderful teacher, Marianne, which I’ve blogged about on numerous occasions.
I enjoyed the classes very much, but I have struggled with the timing of the classes which have been in the evenings. Over the last few years, I’ve become much more of a “mornings person”.
I don’t know why, but a few weeks ago I decided to swap from French to Swedish on Duolingo. And I also decided to commit to a whole year of “professional support”, so a commitment of $130 has made me even more determined.
Since then, I’ve been doing a few quick lessons each day in Swedish.
At first, it was really frustrating, as I couldn’t move beyond the very basic Swedish I began to learn several years ago.
A colleague who is on Twitter noted “I think you have to start from scratch. Which is how I got a bit bored with Norwegian. It’d be great if you could speed through the beginner levels.”
Since then I’ve been trying to go through the “beginner” levels by doing them as quickly as possible. Going through the basics has been quite good actually. As I noted to a friend on Messenger “For months I couldn’t remember the difference between hon and han. But now I do”. He and she. “These days, who knows what han or hon is. I wonder if Swedish has a pronoun for non-binary,” he asked. My reply was, “Yes, gender-neutral is hen”.
So far, it’s going okay. I think it’s been good to refresh on some of the earlier lessons, with repetition. Hopefully, I’ll keep up with daily classes. Hopefully at times where I can fit them in will fit in much better to the rigour of weekly classes at night.
There was a time when weekends were synonymous with bulky newspapers – hours spent poring over them at a café. I’m talking about the weighty Saturday editions of The Sydney Morning Herald, which used to arrive with seven thick sections, or The Australian, once a national masthead, now far more partisan in its political leanings. Today, those papers feel diminished, both in size and substance, with fewer sections and a less diverse editorial voice. Now, I fill those hours by immersing myself in podcasts.
Despite my radio background, I confess I was a latecomer to the world of podcast listening. Professionally, I was an early adopter, involved from the outset in producing and distributing them. But as for making them a staple of my personal listening, that’s a different story.
Initially, I found many podcasts fell into two extremes: either too “low-rent” or too “high-rent.” The former often meant unedited, rambling chats between two people in a kitchen – sometimes charming, but frequently unfocused. The latter, on the other hand, felt overly polished and formal, akin to NPR or BBC Radio 4. While expertly produced, they sometimes lacked the spontaneous spark I loved about live radio.
My turning point was twofold: spending four months in hospital with endless hours to fill, and the emergence of political podcasts. They offered an unparalleled deep dive into political discourse, a level of detail largely absent from mainstream radio. This became especially true during the run-up to the American and UK elections, solidifying podcasts’ place in my daily listening.
While friends often suggest narrative or comedy podcasts, those aren’t my focus; I find those genres adequately covered elsewhere. What I uniquely value in political podcasts is their profound analysis and, paradoxically, their often unscripted feel.
For years, my full-time radio job meant I was constantly immersed in audio, leaving little personal time for listening. However, a significant shift in my career over the past couple of years has freed up my schedule, allowing me to delve into a wider range of content. Unsurprisingly, I gravitate towards political podcasts, with “The Rest is Politics,” (all versions), “The News Agents” (all versions), “Back-to-Back Barries,” and “Politics Now” (ABC Australia), being my go-to’s.
One of the historical weaknesses of podcasts was their pre-recorded nature, meaning listeners had to wait for episodes to be uploaded. However, this has significantly changed in the past year or so, with a growing trend of podcasts going live, particularly through platforms like YouTube.
YouTube has become a central hub for podcasts, offering both video and audio formats (through YouTube Music), and is where I get most of my podcasts from. This shift to live broadcasting allows podcasts to provide immediate commentary and reactions to breaking news or events.
For example, during recent American and British elections, many podcasts went live on YouTube, with the audio becoming available shortly after.
A more recent and stark example is today’s bombing of Iraq, where many of my favourite podcasts quickly went live to discuss the unfolding situation. This means that the previous limitation of podcasts being a delayed medium has largely been overcome.
Unlike traditional television, which often requires significant setup time outside of a rolling news format, podcasts can go live very quickly. Radio, of course, can do it much faster, but you need to be tuned in to know about it happening. This agility and the notifications allows podcasts to cover unfolding events with remarkable speed, offering timely insights and discussions to their audience. This evolution makes podcasts an even more dynamic and responsive medium.
Following on from my “Retrospective ‘Cool'” blog post I thought I’d share some of the Australian songs I truly love. This my alternative “Hottest 100” list, a collection of tracks that hold genuine meaning and memories for me, presented in no particular order.
Treaty – Yothu Yindi I vividly remember dancing to this song, especially in nightclubs, driven by its iconic dance remix. Beyond the pure joy it brought, “Treaty,” released in 1991 by the Yolngu band Yothu Yindi, remains a powerful and essential statement on Indigenous land rights and reconciliation. It’s a song that moves both your feet and your soul.
Somebody That I Used to Know – Gotye (feat. Kimbra) This song isn’t just amazing; the video clip is a masterpiece in itself. It’s simply fantastic. And that line: “You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness…” What a lyric! It captures a raw, undeniable truth.
Pleasure and Pain – The Divinyls “Lover, lover, why do you touch? Please don’t ask me how I’ve been getting off.” These lyrics, delivered with Chrissy Amphlett’s raw and unforgettable vocals, make “Pleasure and Pain” a truly fantastic and classic 1985 rock anthem. It bravely explores the complexities of desire and remains a powerful track.
Love at First Sight – Kylie Minogue Honestly, this is one of Kylie’s most fantastic songs. A vibrant 2002 dance-pop hit from her album Fever, it’s infectious, uplifting, and perfectly encapsulates the pure exhilaration of an instant connection. It just makes you want to move.
I Am Woman – Helen Reddy An iconic 1972 feminist anthem, “I Am Woman” became a powerful rallying cry for women’s liberation, asserting strength and independence. I recall being at a gay and lesbian karaoke night years later, watching younger lesbians attempt to sing it but falter on the words. It was the older gay men who confidently took over, singing every lyric with passion! A truly memorable moment.
Smiley – Ronnie Burns This poignant 1971 anti-war song by Ronnie Burns beautifully reflects on the devastating loss of innocence experienced by young soldiers, particularly poignant during the Vietnam War era. Its message still resonates deeply.
Tenterfield Saddler – Peter Allen Peter Allen’s deeply personal 1972 ballad is a beautiful tribute to his saddler grandfather, weaving rich themes of family, heritage, and the relentless passage of time. As a country boy myself, much of the lyric deeply resonated. And oh, the tragedy within the lines: “It’s easier to drink than go crazy… George had no answers why a son ever has need of a gun…” It brings tears to my eyes every single time.
Polyester Girl – Regurgitator I absolutely adore this song. At a time when much of the music scene felt predictable, “Polyester Girl” burst through with an energy and creativity that was so much more interesting and captivating. It was a refreshing breath of fresh air.
From Little Things Big Things Grow – Paul Kelly and The Messengers (feat. Kev Carmody) If I had to choose just one Paul Kelly song, it would undoubtedly be “From Little Things Big Things Grow,” especially the version with Kev Carmody. This song is incredibly meaningful, and I deeply connect with its powerful sentiment and message of resilience and justice. It’s a significant anthem for social change, recounting the Gurindji people’s struggle for land rights.
Blue Sky Mine – Midnight Oil While “Blue Sky Mine” is a globally renowned 1987 protest song by Midnight Oil, addressing Indigenous land rights and environmental issues, it’s Genevieve Lemon’s version that truly touched me. Her rendition allows the powerful lyrics to stand out much more prominently than with Midnight Oil’s rock band background, making the message even more impactful.
I don’t get a lot of mail these days. With the exception of cards, everything personal comes via email. And I’ve managed to change most of my paper bills to electronic distribution. Most of my snail mail seems to consist of “official things” like development applications. I wonder when City of Sydney, which is very “environmental friendly” will move to electronic distribution of those? But tonight, as I came home there was something in my letterbox which gave me a smile.
It was a letter from someone who is planning to submit a development application. They were giving us a “heads up” about their forthcoming application, explaining they run a similar establishment in another residential area, and they’ve found early and regular engagement with the community has worked for them. It was a welcome change from the usual development application notice from City of Sydney which tells me such and such down the street plans to make an alteration to their bathroom.
More than the “heads up” notice, I was also pleased to see they’re planning a North African restaurant. Excellent. That’s just what Surry Hills needs. We have just about every type of cuisine you might imagine, and more than our fair share of Turkish, Lebanese and Indian, but there are some gaps, and I’m sure North African will be a welcome addition to the area.
Having lived in Surry Hills for fifteen years, it’s been fascinating to watch the changes. Fifteen years ago, Bourke Street and Crown Street were both two-way streets. We had a few restaurants, though nothing you’d get too excited about: mostly I’d wander up to Oxford Street if I wanted something special to eat. That, of course, was when Oxford Street was still reasonably lively with restaurants, and not just queues to get into nightclubs. Back then, the Surry Hills Mall was still called “The Redfern Mall”. It was in the days when The Clock Hotel still had a gay bar out the back – The Stronghold (known as The Stranglehold) – and a bottle-shop out the front. In fact, it was a bottle-shop where I once experienced an armed-robbery, something I’ve never told my family, since I know they would have worried.
These days, Surry Hills is all a bit gentrified. It’s all one way traffic and cycle-ways these days. And the shops have all changed. In the last couple of years, for example, the charcoal chicken shop, has closed, the regular bakery has moved to a cheaper location, and the Bourke Street bakery has moved in with its long queues on the weekend, and we now have more gourmet grocers than you could possibly imagine.
I still love the area. I love being close to work. I love the cultural diversity of the area. I love the sense of “history” you find as you walk around the area. And I love the street in which I live. It has a park. It has terrace houses. It has a couple of small apartment blocks. And since 2006, Lachlan Murdoch has been one of the neighbours, though I’ve yet to actually see him. And I love that, development application pending, we may soon have a North African restaurant, whatever that means.
“I feel like some ice-cream or some gelato”, I said to my friend Sue, so she suggested Brunetti’s at Carlton as one of those quintessential Melbourne experiences.
We had plans of heading out into the country to look at some of the bushfire affected areas, and to do our bit to help their economic recovery, but decided the combination of cold and wet weather, and long distances, meant a day in Melbourne instead.
So we had a late morning bite to eat overlooking the river, spent some time at the Art Gallery (not that interesting, to be honest), and then headed over to Carlton.
We spent a fair bit of time in Borders (currently being renovated) and looking in shop windows, and then headed over to Brunetti’s. There was much people watching to be done.
Late in the afternoon we came back to Sue’s place where I had a nap and she did some work. And then in the evening, we searched (without much success) for something to watch on television.
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