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111 1111 '. I I' 'Iu s 'd 10 '0 10 s hool wilholll Ill y hi gh hi gh h . 'Is, lasi1ill gs ol lllll ll" VII DOWN ON DEVIL I" 11111I1 ';\ n Ilipsli 'Ie 'l'h ' l'lI ' \1 'I' wl'o l ' il k'il '1'10 my pal' 'nl s S I ~ ll i ll f' tll ol l I dltlll'l ' fi l ill and il wo uld b ' ap pr ' 'i"l 'd if I w 'nl so m 'wh ' I" 'Is' 101 III , 11 1111 1i11 '. Pm show and l '\I' al my nexI primary s hoal, I p rforl11 d :l Rand y N 'W III.III GATE DRIVE ' "1 1', wh ' I" th main Iyri wa s ' I want to take ff my pants'. 1 thou ,hi il W, I ~ 11 )', ll'I' i 'all y funny. The oth er kid s thou ht 1 was on weird wit h. 1 didn't h,IV' 1.111 111 ~ l ny fri end. I{o 'k' n'roll was our daily bread. Most nights my father would b ' gi!' gi ll g '"II l'w h 'r ,solo or with a band, or recording in the studio he had 11 'xl doo!' 10 111 1' hou se. I would beg to go with him as often as I could, genera ll y 'ndi l1 !', liI v • 1'I' Itin a leep beneath the piano. At some ungodly hour he would s oop 111 . lip FOR SlNGER, AND FILM ACTRESS LOENE CARMEN, 1. 11 Ih ' post-gig Greek meal in a Hindley Street restaurant. ROCK' N'ROLL HAS BEEN A LEGACY AND A VOCATION FROM I.yri s always fascinated me. I loved to pore over my father's fo lder of Iyl'i ~, EA RLY CH ILDHOOD I I )' 111 g to work out which ones he'd written, trying to work out what th y 111 .: 1111 , 1'1 11'1' was always informative, telling me about the , the sin ' 'rs, 1111 ' Like my daddy before me 11I11 ', i 'ians, who was great and why. The amount of pot being smoked I11nd ' hilll I earned my stripes, staying up nights I I Y patient and thoughtful. In late night bars II . had played piano professionally from the age of thirteen. He ta ughl hi lll ~I ' 1I Standing around, stumbling on III I'lay pounding Jerry Lee Lewis- style, with bricks balanced on his hlllld ~ III Singin' my song and loading up cars I. III 'v the requisite strength. When I was young, he was practising piano 'V I'I ' My legs is long 01 ,1 with his eyes shut, in case he ever went blind, and because Ray Chnrl 'S did "'1 I keep walking on III I,d 'yes to play the way he did, so why should he? Tijuana guitar and a penny jar I;v 'ry now and then he would indulge me with what I called 'my Sin gi li l" And a bed full of rock'n'roll tears 1'1.11 Ii e'. I would select songs I wanted to sing from his precious fold er and " I' - 'Rock'n'Roll Tears' (2005) Ill il d work out my key and play piano while I sung them. He told me prol 'S

It 111,11 singers always knew what key they sang in. I could never remember, wh i " I ALWAYS knew. Even in my little-girl bones there was a wistful kind oflonging 0I1t1 11 '1 bode well. He also told me it took ten years to be a decent amate ur 1I11d for rock'n'roll. It spoke to me. It was calling me. 1IIII Ih er ten to become a professional. I tried to remain undaunted. I kn w all Il l\' There is a two-track tape recording my father made, when I was a four-year­ 11, 11 king vocal parts for his original songs and always harboured a hope Ih al 0 11 1' old, of Bon Scott singing one of his songs. It was ruined by my wailing because I d'iy a backing singer wouldn't show up for a gig ~nd I'd be able to step in , :11111 wanted to be the one singing it. My father bought me a album about IlIlhody would notice I was only eight. the same time. I was transfixed first by the image on the cover, that skin-tight,