Soft Touch - Working For A Nuclear Free City
Winter's Calling - The Movements
We're All In Here - Reptile Youth
Acid Couple Kiss - Froth
Babe On - Boys Boys Boys
Just Like A Roman Candle, Joe - The Hot Puppies
Leopold's Apple - The Electric Cheese
Secret Animal - The Girobabies
Twist It - Ming City Rockers
Don't Bother Me - The Blakes
No Spare Key - Honeyblood
Be My Baby - New York City Queens
The Oligarch - Ephemerals
The Nihilist - Liam Finn
An Eight - Sex Hands
You Disapprove - The Mobbs
Actually, It's What's On The Outside That Counts - Sugar Army
Dirty Pretty Little Lies - The Barmines
Venice, USA - Red Elvises
My Woman - Vendettas
I'll See You On The Way Down - Broken Records
Fate - Lowrise
Favorite Place - Black Books
Shoot Me - Peyote
The Planet On The Table
by Wallace Stevens
Ariel was glad he had written his poems.
They were of a remembered time
Or of something seen that he liked.
Other makings of the sun
Were waste and welter
And the ripe shrub writhed.
His self and the sun were one
And his poems, although makings of his self,
Were no less makings of the sun.
It was not important that they survive.
What mattered was that they should bear
Some lineament or character,
Some affluence, if only half-perceived,
In the poverty of their words,
Of the planet of which they were part.