Sweetman Podcast

I haven't made a bit of music for a while. Some would say I never have — including after hearing any of the pieces. Fair enough.With that in mind, here's my most recent. A wee piece I call New Coat. I guess I tried to address the question no one was asking — what would happen if Moby and Robert Miles collaborated after they'd both been hit in the head a bit?My (“musical”) answer is above. Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

I always knew when my grandfather had come home too boozed, or sometimes it was even on a night when he'd just drift in his chair. The whiskey had done a number on him again. There'd be some noise and then my grandmother would shout out, “Boil the combs!”Grandad was a good sort otherwise. He made me a go-kart out of old boxes, but when the other kids could go much faster, he took the engine from his leaf-blower and hid it under the hood. He said, “put your foot on this button and just ease off if you're going around a corner because there are no breaks”. He also said, “the other kids are stupid anyway”. And we laughed together for a long time after he said things like that. Grandma and Granddad liked to say that they ‘took me in' and I never knew what that meant, at least not for ages. My dad wasn't really into being a dad, they said. My mum could not cope alone. She moved up north to ‘better herself', and that hurt the first few times I heard it, because I always wondered what was better than having a son. But it turned out she was going to go back to school to get some qualifications. She started writing letters, and as I got a bit older, I reckon the letters improved a bit too, so school was obviously working pretty good for her the second time around. Granny and Grandpa were good sorts, but I know she didn't like it much when he went out drinking, or just had too much in his chair at home. But he seemed to have his reasons, reckoned sometimes she went out late alone without him when I was asleep, but also that I really didn't need to know much more about that. We were quite a funny wee gang. I got teased a bit in school sometimes by people saying who is that old man or that old lady, or just who are those stupid old people that pick you up. But I just ignored that. Like a lot of what I am saying here, and a lot more I'm choosing not to say, it hurt a bit at the time. And then it didn't. But I had good times with them both, and it felt like I was just living in a different world. Helping to pickle beetroot and lemons in the kitchen with Grandma. Helping to grow vegetables in the hydroponic greenhouse out back in the yard with Granddad. All of it completely normal to me, at least until we talked about what we did in the weekends first period Monday. I certainly never mentioned the combs. I knew that would take some explaining. One time, Granddad stumbled into my room and I thought he was lost, but he said to just shove over, and he pushed me close to the wall and he just fell asleep in the bed behind me. But pressed right up against me. It was fine, I guess. I felt safe. I just thought it was weird. And his breath smelled a bit like if someone had been sick in a cup of tea. So I hugged the wall instead of him. And another time, Grandma came in, but she was not going to let me sleep in the bed with her and told me to get on the floor. I tried to say that I was comfortable, but I was also pretty sleepy, so must have just crawled into place on the floor. I woke up and I was curled into a ball like a cat, under a huge rug, and also on top of a fluffy rug too. So it was actually really comfortable, and a little bit funny. I didn't remember being there, like how I got there at all, until Granny said. And it was actually really weird because she was already up and making breakfast, so I thought at first I'd done some silly sleepwalking or something. But Granny believed in telling the truth. Most of the time anyway. And definitely whenever I asked. Which is why I had to find out why she would yell, “boil the combs”, and what did that even mean? She said it was a throwback to when she'd be woken up by her mum yelling the same thing whenever her dad came home drunk. Her mum would shout “boil the combs”, and the kids in the house would get up, put a pot of water on, and with the cast iron pot cooling off the fire, they'd then place two hair combs in, so as to be sure no lice were trapped, and the combs were nice and clean. They would then help their mum tie their dad into bed, so he didn't fall out. He'd come home drunk and want to do one of two things that started with ‘F' apparently. I didn't really understand that part. But that's what Granny said. She reckoned the plan her mum had worked out was that if they tied him into bed he couldn't move, nor be a danger to anyone, and also he wouldn't fall out and end up on his face on the cold wooden floor too. But the genius part of the plan was that once tied into bed, they would all have a go at doing his hair, combing it back and tidying it while he snored. The two combs were so that it was a game, Granny reckoned. And her and her two sisters and brother would take turns. They thought it was so much fun. And got a real giggle she said. The idea was that when her father woke, he had no idea what had happened but could tell by his hair that it must have been a trouble-free night. That all made so much sense, and sounded funny, and a little bit sweet, but also a little bit weird, and even quite scary, but Granny said that they all knew what they were doing and had fun, and it wasn't until quite long after her father had died that her mother explained a bit more about how serious it was sometimes, and how the “boil the combs” scream wasn't quite a code, or a password, but then again it also almost was. Her mum couldn't always get out of bed straight away, and sometimes the kids had to do all of the boiling and even get some rope to bring in to their mum in the bedroom. Sometimes she was standing up in her nightgown, and was in the corner of the room and their father was yelling a bit about how he was angry at the world for so many things. “Kids can be clever”, I said to my Granny after all that. And she agreed that they can, and reckoned that's why I didn't need to know too much more about anything else related to why she still yelled out “boil the combs”. She just said it was some sort of throwback to her childhood, and definitely nothing to with Granddad at all. She also said it was smart of me to not come in when I heard it. To just do my best to get back to sleep. Things were different these days, she said. And she hadn't married her father. She definitely hadn't, no matter what Mrs. Waters across the road said. Things were fine most of the time she also said. And I wondered why she had said those last two things.Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Start writing today. Use the button below to create a Substack of your ownThanks for reading Sounds Good! ! This post is public so feel free to share it. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

We are back with the tenth episode of We All Float Down Here — A Stephen King podcast. Our second of 2025 is the King's first YA title, The Eyes of The Dragon, and since there's no film version, as yet (and unlikely to ever be), and because it's related — age-wise, we also dip into his graphic novelette, The Cycle of the Werewolf, and its ropey film adaptation, Silver Bullet.The podcast goes out on YouTube first and foremost — so we'd love you to like and subscribe over there.Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Thanks for reading Sounds Good! ! This post is public so feel free to share it. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

I haven't made a bit of music for a while. Some would say I never have — including after hearing any of the pieces. Fair enough. With that in mind, here's my most recent. A wee piece I call Dark Winds. Might use it for some spoken word at some point, but for now, here it is.Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Thanks for reading Sounds Good! ! This post is public so feel free to share it. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

When George Harrison died, I helped move a friend from her flat in Elizabeth St to her new place then in Tasman St. From Mt Vic to Mt Cook sounds like the title to a down-scaling book but this was just how it was back in 2001. We scrubbed the walls to get the smoke stains off from where the pictures had been and all the while the radio was playing Beatles songs.I was on the heavy lifting, helping the removal men when they arrived. I was lifting tables and chairs, computer desks and various things down the alleyway to the street front. It was baking hot; I'd played a gig the night before and stayed up late drinking whatever was in the house as a toast to the Quiet Beatle. My hangover was getting a workout.The removal truck arrived, driven by the world's rudest man. He was instantly a caricature. Loud and dumb and full of himself. And his truck was in the middle of the street – a one-way road. He figured everyone could wait because he was on a paid job. And when he did, grudgingly, move the truck, he backed it into someone's car. A neighbour popped his head in to say he'd seen what happened. The moving man stuck his neck out to tell the man to forget what he saw if he wanted to keep all his fingers. Then there was a car of women beeping. Beeping. Trying to tell this man to move.I was head-down and just bringing out the loads of stuff. But I said, at one point, that maybe he ought to move his truck. He laughed maniacally and then went to meet the women in the car. He bent down, leaned in and hoiked a giant spit right into the face of the driver. His co-worker laughed, then corrected himself, shook his head, was mortified. And he asked the lunatic, “why did you do that?”The meathead replied that it was the “the dirtiest thing I could think to do”.The radio belted out I Me Mine and Here Comes The Sun and Taxman and While My Guitar Gently Weeps. All those great George Harrison-penned Beatles songs. We heard a few of the solo gems too – obviously My Sweet Lord and All Those Years Ago, that cover of Got My Mind Set on You and a Travelling Wilburys song – or two.But this was the end of the line. A guy spat in a woman's face because he couldn't be bothered to move his truck. Because he was sure that he was the boss. Because he knew that he was large – and if not in charge he was still the king. At least of anything that mattered in his world. We were mortified. Horrified. We were stunned to silence – and didn't feel good about that.We had a story. A weird story. And it's one we'll always have. Me and the friend I helped move that day…were married a few years on, we've moved houses a handful of times since that occasion. We've streamlined all we can but the mess continues to grow, the stuff we don't need builds up around us. And we have a son now that wants to know any story about The Beatles that we can think of.One day, he can read this. And make of it what he will.Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

It was my first time reading at The Office in Newtown, a regular get-together for some, but a new venue for it.I read two new poems — including one so new I wrote it the morning of the day I read it. The other is a couple of weeks old, both were new to being read aloud.They have a musical guest and a guest-poet but the first half of the programme is all-comers on an open mic. So check it out above to hear my two new poems.Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Thanks for reading Sounds Good! ! This post is public so feel free to share it. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

Here's three brand new poems from me at the regular Poetry in Motion open mic at the Fringe Bar in Wellington.Where all of last year and even into early this year I have been rehearsing and showcasing material from The Richard Poems, this was my first time in years reading brand new material. So the three poems captured here are being read for the very first time.They are called Worlds Colliding, Ex/Terminate and Shake What Ya Mama Gave You. In the case of Ex/Terminate, I haven't even uploaded it to Substack, but you can read Worlds Colliding — — and Shake What Ya Mama Gave You — — you know, for those that like to read along at home.Anyway, new poems, the start of reading new poems out and about again hopefully. Let me know what you think.Thanks for reading Sounds Good! ! This post is public so feel free to share it.Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

I've mentioned my little book, The Richard Poems a bunch here. Launched in November last year. I've shared a few (audio) readings along the way to publication — and then a couple that have come out since the release: But there at the top you have a video poem, I'm reading Summerslam, 1988 — a piece from early in the book. A scene-setter I guess. I also will include here a bonus video of a handful of poems from the book — being read for the first time, and as you'll see (and hear) chosen on the fly: This Friday, Feb 21, I am taking some of these poems, and many more, and performing them on stage with a band. If you buy a ticket, all the money will be donated to Women's Refuge. Just $10 a ticket. You can even watch some rehearsal footage to get an idea of how it's going to sound: Buy your ticket/s to the show!Buy a copy of the bookLet me know if you'd like to see more video content, or hear more audio content.Start writing today. Use the button below to create a Substack of your own Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

The final rehearsal for our show “DICK” is in the can — here's a couple of sneak-peek clips; we were in the main room at Photospace Gallery today, where we'll be delivering the show this Friday, Feb 21, 7.30pm. A reminder to buy your tickets online from The Fringe website — it's $10 and that money goes to Women's Refuge. There are no door sales on the night. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

I popped along to the New Zealand Society of Authors — Wellington's first event of 2025, an open mic at Undercurrent bookshop. There were all sorts of readings from all sorts of readings, including from novels and short stories and memoir and children's books, and poetry. For my five-minute set, I read four poems from my latest collection, The Richard Poems. And you can listen to the recording here.It was also — of course — a chance to plug the upcoming show: Thanks for reading Sounds Good! ! This post is public so feel free to share it.Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

We are back with the ninth episode of We All Float Down Here — A Stephen King podcast. Our first of 2025 is the classic Pet Sematary, and the slightly less classic film adaptations (plural). Will they ever get this book right on screen? We think not. The podcast goes out on YouTube first and foremost — so we'd love you to like and subscribe over there.Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Thanks for reading Sounds Good! ! This post is public so feel free to share it. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

Another rehearsal, so a few more teaser clips of the show developing…On Friday, February 21, I'll be performing poems from my latest book as part of a Fringe Festival show: The show is taking place at Photospace Gallery in Courtenay Place, Wellington, at 7.30pm. I'm being backed by musicians John Kingston and James Gilberd of the duo Filtersphere. Their ambient, improvised wash of music is the perfect soundscape for my Richard Reimagining — a kind of poetry remix where I take about a third of the poems in the book and re-arrange them to tell the same story-arc of the poetry sequence's narrative, but in a whole new shape. We are rehearsing the material to build up an idea of how it will go on the night. And I'm really thrilled with it so far. I couldn't have better support and understanding and intuition from my musician pals.Anyway, work in progress, but have a look and let me know what you think. And maybe see you there on the night? Or tell your friends in the Wellington vicinity.See below for the details again about the show, in a link. And also there's a previous rehearsal clip to click on if you missed it at the time, or wish to compare. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

We are back with the eighth episode of We All Float Down Here — A Stephen King podcast. A bit delayed here sorry, we actually put this up first on YouTube in late 2024, but then, you know, summer holidays, etc… And we are talking Christine — from 1983, the classic movie version from the same year too (John Carpenter). It's a big book too, so as always that is the focus of the chat. We'll be back as quick as we can with Pet Sematary, the first proper pod of 2025…The podcast goes out on YouTube first and foremost — so we'd love you to like and subscribe over there.Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Thanks for reading Sounds Good! ! This post is public so feel free to share it. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

We are back with the seventhepisode of We All Float Down Here — A Stephen King podcast. And we are talking Cujo — from 1981, the classic movie version, and the sequel story Rattlesnakes, from the brand new story collection, You Like It Darker. But, as always, it's the book that matters most.And for this conversation we were joined by our first guest, one of New Zealand's greatest authors, Pip Adam.The podcast goes out on YouTube first and foremost — so we'd love you to like and subscribe over there.But also adding it here so you can find it on Substack, and your favourite podcast providers like Spotify if you just want the audio.Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Thanks for reading Sounds Good! ! This post is public so feel free to share it. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

I was the guest poet at the November edition of Poetry in Motion. They have an open mic each month, and then a Feature Poet. This month it was me. I'd last done it in 2021 after the late 2020 release of The Death of Music Journalism. This time I had The Richard Poems to plug, but also read a few new and old poems. I also introduced Tarns Hood, during my segment, and got her to recite one of her poems. (Tarns is thanked in the Acknowledgments of my new book, she is one of the best performance poets around, a SLAM champ, and she gave me crucial advice on my delivery of these new poems, for which I am very grateful).Anyway, this is the recording of the night's feature spot. You'll hear my full set here, including Tarns' poem, and all the explanatory banter and backstory around various poems too. I hope you enjoy. It felt good to launch the book in this way, well pre-launch. The main launch is still to come of course: Thanks for reading Sounds Good! ! This post is public so feel free to share it.Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

We are back with the sixth episode of We All Float Down Here — A Stephen King podcast. And we are talking Firestarter — the first book of the 1980s, the classic Drew Barrymore-starring film version, its ludicrous non-canon ‘sequel', and a pretty bad recent remake. But it's the book that matters most.(And the film soundtracks by Tangerine Dream and John Carpenter — LOL!).The podcast goes out on YouTube first and foremost — so we'd love you to like and subscribe over there.But also adding it here so you can find it on Substack, and your favourite podcast providers like Spotify if you just want the audio.Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Thanks for reading Sounds Good! ! This post is public so feel free to share it. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

We are back with the fifth episode of We All Float Down Here — A Stephen King podcast. And we are talking Dead Zone — the 1979 political thriller/existential horror, and its 1983 David Cronenberg-helmed Sci-Fi film adaptation — but we are not discussing the TV series. We did not go there!The podcast goes out on YouTube first and foremost — so we'd love you to like and subscribe over there.But also adding it here so you can find it on Substack, and your favourite podcast providers like Spotify if you just want the audio.Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Thanks for reading Sounds Good! ! This post is public so feel free to share it. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

I've got this (silly) idea for my next book — by which I mean the one after the one that is about to be released. I'd like to catalogue various low-key failures in my life via a set of autobiographical short stories. Vignettes, really. I have some audio recordings of some of these too, so I'm occasionally sharing them here with both options — you can listen to the spoken-word version (with my primitive soundscaping) or read the story below. Or both, you know, read-along-as-you-listen…Anyway, here's the truth story of when I was very luckily not good enough…Some 20 years ago I got a friend to drive me out towards Porirua to rehearse for a Jimi Hendrix tribute act. My car had been stolen, my drums too (they were in the car). The local guy we hired our PA from let me rent a kit for the weekend for $20. Amazing eh? I had the rehearsal and a couple of gigs, I made enough to pay petrol for my mate and the cheap-as-chips hire fee and actually it was a pretty good payday (had to wait to get a new car).But the thing that I've just remembered is that the Hendrix rehearsal went okay; the bass player was pretty good and I thought I did fine as well. I played as many of the songs from memory as I could and if I didn't know it I just gave it a nudge, which you can do on the drums, more so than on most other instruments. The lead singer and guitarist — The Jimi Hendrix for this experience — was good too. He rolled around the floor at one point, had the guitar up over his head.We had a beer after and a get-to-know-each-other chat and he explained that he really liked to get into the showmanship side of things, said he'd be doing more than just what we saw then. He liked to really get into character as well and explained that when we played he had big plans for huge venues. H e'd be dressing up as Jimi. A big wig he said. And he liked to paint his face black… I didn't do any gigs with his group. I can't say it's because of any moral fibre. I'd love to say I was too good for blackface but perhaps, even more luckily, I wasn't good enough.A couple of years ago I recorded a few of these stories, with crude musical backing, and released an album or two on Bandcamp under the name Second Storey Teller.Here's an earlier Audio + Typed Short Story, about another kind of failure: Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Thanks for reading Sounds Good! ! This post is public so feel free to share it.Start writing today. Use the button below to create a Substack of your own Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

Hey there, here's a new set of recordings — more from the files of ‘The Richard Poems'. You'll remember I have shareda few previous times reading, as I try to get to grips with these new poems, and work on the idea of creating an actual show, also the book is on its way soon. But if you missed the other recordings I'll add them down here below: And, if you're playing at home, I like to give you the option to read along — so below are the poems featured in this podcast in their print/text ‘readings': See you next month — with a book out, and news of a launch, and maybe even a recording from the launch, as well as a featured spot at the Fringe Bar open mic where I'll be reading more from the book than just two or three…Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Thanks for reading Sounds Good! ! This post is public so feel free to share it. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

We are back with the fourth episode of We All Float Down Here — A Stephen King podcast. And we are talking The Stand— the 1978 epic novel, and its 1994 and 2020 miniseries' — but we are discussing the 1990 Complete and Uncut version of the novel, since that's the one in circulation these days. (And the one we read).The podcast goes out on YouTube first and foremost — so we'd love you to like and subscribe over there.But also adding it here so you can find it on Substack, and your favourite podcast providers like Spotify if you just want the audio.Thanks for reading Sounds Good! ! This post is public so feel free to share it.Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

One year, when I gave up on university before it gave up on me, I made a last ditch effort to climb the hill and instead of going to class I studied the wall at Student Job Search, saw a piece of paper with a listing for a bookstore job. I'd always wanted one of those. So I took up the slip and registered. I aced the interview. And that was me. The new me. A worker. I'd pop down The Terrace and onto Lambton Quay and report for duty. It wasn't a ‘great' bookshop. But it did have books. And books are great. I found a few new favourites. But mostly we sold magazines and cards and last-minute gifts. And the books we did sell were filled with pictures and recipes or were signed by All Blacks.One day I turned up there and the store's owner – a grumpy cliché – was furious to find that this store was soaked. Someone had left a firehose running overnight and it had leaked through the ceiling tiles and saturated many of the cards and their envelopes. Not many books were water-damaged but the carpet was soaked. I told the boss I was sorry. And he said, “never mind that, the real fucker in all of this is the insurance won't yet cover it. Help me push a few things over”. I thought it was a strange, dark joke. So I did my best laugh – but he looked angrily at me, as is to say we had some real work to do. And he lunged mightily at one of those rotating towers of trinkets and cards. Into the drink! Then he pushed another. “Well come on!” he bellowed.I didn't feel comfortable shoving anything into the water so I made out I was doing other important things – we had to get the store ready to open still. So I found a broom and swept a few puddles out of the way of the door. I told him I would get the float counted (haha, float). And start sorting out the backroom.It was a weird day.And then at morning tea time, Angry Boss walked past me and dumped a handful of these grotesque soft-toy frogs into the kitchen sink. He turned on the tap and ran them a cold bath.As I made my cuppa from the zip he said, “Hey matey, you mind turning over my frogs”. And he laughed a great deal. Like he was finding new ways to fuck with the system man. This flood had provided him with an opportunity.I worked with a woman who drove in from Lower Hutt every day with her two daughters. Which is to say I worked with all three of them. The youngest daughter was about 16 I reckon. The older one was about 19. They all smoked. Shared the same pack, and would take turns going out for a dart. None of them read. Apart from the magazines. The youngest was quite chatty and reckoned it was a great job, way better than school. Her favourite thing was ripping the covers off magazines that didn't sell. She got to keep the back bit of the magazine. Which counted as reading. And sometimes she'd rip an extra cover or two off so she could keep those as well.I did my best to get as involved as I could. I made a couple of up-sales, did my recommends. Managed to have a decent ‘book' chat once a day on average. Nothing like the dozens of great book-chats I'd have in the two other bookstore jobs I would go on to have. But you got to start somewhere. And this is where I started.But I couldn't stay long. If the frogs and the insurance ‘top-up' wasn't enough. If the same pack of smokes being torn through every two days by three cackling non-readers wasn't a grind, then it all got to be too much when Angry Boss removed me from the store and sent me upstairs to run his “Christmas Pop-Up Shop”.He told me, outright, that “the girls” were good for business. They “looked good”. I “did not”. So I was better placed away from the main store and upstairs to take money off people that were never in need of any guidance – beyond a simple finger-point towards more ribbon or the different types of wrapping paper.And if I thought I was above all that water-damage – literally on the next level – I was still guilty by association; Angry Boss was grabbing armfuls of things from ‘my' store and taking them down the escalator to chuck into his puddle.I would buy a crate of beer in the weekend and have a tall bottle each night after work, the rest over Friday and Saturday. It was an okay life. I was writing as much as I could at night. And I felt like I was actually doing something. Even though the job was getting worse each day.Finally, I realised that Angry Boss was never going to get better, would never be calmer. Not with Christmas around the corner. He yelled at me in front of a customer once. Got the wrong end of the stick and blamed me for something someone else had done (or actually, hadn't done as it were). The customer apologised to me after Angry Boss raged out. That shouldn't ever happen.On the 23rd of December I left my shift, after after being yelled at by the boss – and in front of customers. I stayed back for five extra minutes, found a spot to hide and construct a brief, handwritten resignation. Saying that it was effective immediately. I mean I was basically walking out. But I figured if I stated that it would bind in some way.I stuffed the messily written note in one of the spare envelopes from the cards. I stashed it on his desk, sticking out so he might see it, but also might not see it straightaway. I needed time to do a casual walk out – like it was just any other shift and not also the final shift. He'd find out after I was gone that I was gone. I was doing a runner on the eve of Christmas Eve. Finishing up and leaving him in the lurch before the busiest day of the year. I knew I was a bit of a jerk for this. But I had reconciled that he was a way bigger jerk. So. There.No way was this bookworm going to be flippin' frogs in the sink in between serving scowling people with no patience, stressed to be in a line to get last-minute knickknacks and black-covered novelisations.I turned the corner outside the store. And I started to run. Just in case, really. But also because I was chasing after something that felt super earned. Freedom. Freedom. I almost screamed it.  And when I made it home to the flat I put a George Benson record on, used a fish-slice to un-cap a beer and nursed it in front of my stereo. I rang one of my mates and had a fucking good laugh.PostScript to this story…I've never left Wellington. I moved her to be a student, and found a home — eventually a degree. In the opposite order of the way most go about it. The bookstore where this story takes place is no longer standing, but I walk past the scene of the crime most days now, on the way to ‘grown up' work.The statute of limitations is well past, eh.I was struggling to concentrate at uni, so I took a full-time job in this store, and that was my life for a while. At home, I'd write poems, and this is when I started writing short stories too. I wrote a bunch of them — the same George Benson album (above) made an appearance in another (completely fictional) short story. God knows why that was a favourite? But it is a great wee record.I was also taking it very seriously that I had a ‘gig' writing music reviews for New Zealand Musician, and I'd started my column for the Capital Times where I'd eventually just start making up the names of fake-bands to write about. But that's arguably another story…It was a pretty great summer, but it was pretty bad too. Things would eventually get better. Of course. But before then, they only got worse..Let me know if you like this sort of thing, with the audio version of the story as an option sometimes. A couple of years ago I recorded a few of these stories, with crude musical backing, and released an album or two on Bandcamp under the name Second Storey Teller. Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Start writing today. Use the button below to create a Substack of your own Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

Alright, it's time for the third episode of We All Float Down Here — A Stephen King podcast. We are talking The Shining — the 1977 novel, and the 1980 Stanley Kubrick film adaptation. (Heck, we even talk a bit about the 1997 TV movie/mini-series).The podcast goes out on YouTube first and foremost — so we'd love you to like and subscribe over there.But also adding it here so you can find it on Substack, and your favourite podcast providers like Spotify if you just want the audio.Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

Last night, as part of Phantom Billstickers National Poetry Day, I was honoured to be both the MC and one of the poets reading at an event held at Wellington's divine secondhand bookstore and venue, Undercurrent. It was a wonderful line-up of poets, a dream to be part of this cast — and to get to introduce them all. I recorded my set, where I read six short pieces from the upcoming book, ‘The Richard Poems'. And now you can hear those poems here regardless of whether you were there on the night or not. Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

I'll have shared this story already — at least for paying subscribers — but here's an audio-rendition (for all). I'm reading the story, and I've created the musical backing there, in my primitive way (under my Second Storey Teller alias). Anyway, it came up recently that I carried the Commonwealth Torch as part of the build up to the 1990 games. My dad still has a videotape he won't part with, and, you guessed it — he doesn't have a VCR. Anyway, here's that story, in audio form, or you can read it below.Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.When the Commonwealth Games were held in Auckland in 1990 I was chosen to carry the torch on a relay-run that went up the country. I was picked due to my involvement in rep hockey and for the 1km run along Napier's Marine Parade I was flanked by two older chaps, local runners or sportspeople – I can't remember. I held the actual torch – they carried placeholders, like a silver and bronze.We were gifted branded clothing, hat, shirt, socks, shorts and a wrist-band. And we stood waiting – with nothing to say to each other – as the torch arrived, some other team of three had run it for a k' and were to hand it over, along with the fake copies.I got to jog a step ahead of the other two, out in front.There's a certificate in a photo album at mum and dad's house. It's printed on that cheap fax-paper. It looks more like an invoice. And in the shed, in a box, there's a videotape of the whole ordeal. My dad won't part with it, despite no longer owning a VCR.I told him, most recently, to dump it. We don't need that – nor the hours of rep hockey games (the practice runs that had got me to this dance). He snapped back that he was thinking of one day having them all digitised.Gonna get them on a DVD.Way to move with the times. How very 21st Century. But I secretly hope he does “get them digitised” – or at the very least that Commonwealth Games tape…You won't see my dad, but you'll hear him, providing an unwanted, unavoidable soundtrack. He ran the whole thing, backwards the Ginger Rogers to our Fred Astaires. Slugging a giant camcorder over his shoulder, like roadkill to take home to his family; his trophy.Huff. Puff. Huff. Puff. In. Out. Breathe and blow and sniff and snort.What a bloody good sort eh. In jeans and jandals, no corporate branding. An agile wee fucker. He's the one that deserves a medal.Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Thanks for reading Sounds Good! ! This post is public so feel free to share it. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

Three ‘Richard' Poems here in a recording at home. I read them earlier tonight at the Fringe Bar. And it went well — I think. Apart from me botching the audio recording. There were some gasps — at the use of the word ‘faggot' and some of the anger and energy of these poems. And I wish I had that recorded. Instead I have this recording. And you have it too — if you're interested.You can read along, or read instead by checking out the individual poems here:I must try to record a few more of these like this. I quite like assembling little ‘jazz trios' of poems to sit and hang together. These are all brutal, short poems, but my hope is they take on something else when huddled together, if nothing else they are a support for one another.Perhaps asking you to ‘enjoy' them is the wrong word altogether. But I still hope it's not entirely the wrong notion.Thanks xThanks for reading Sounds Good! ! This post is public so feel free to share it.Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

Hey there, here we are with the second episode of We All Float Down Here — A Stephen King podcast. We talk about the book Salem's Lot and the 1979 and 2004 film versions. There's also a third film adaptation on the way…The podcast goes out on YouTube first and foremost — so we'd love you to like and subscribe over there.But also adding it here so you can find it on Substack, and your favourite podcast providers like Spotify if you just want the audio.Thank you for reading Sounds Good! . This post is public so feel free to share it. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

Hello and welcome to the We All Float Down Here podcast. Today we talk in detail about Stephen King's debut, Carrie, what we love, what we don't love as much, and same applies to all the movies.The podcast goes out on YouTube first and foremost — so we'd love you to like and subscribe over there.But also adding it here so you can find it on Substack, and your favourite podcast providers like Spotify if you just want the audio.Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Thank you for reading Sounds Good! . This post is public so feel free to share it.Start writing today. Use the button below to create your Substack and connect your publication with Sounds Good! Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

This is a first go at recording a video of a new poem. The text can be read or shared here: Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Thank you for reading Sounds Good! . This post is public so feel free to share it. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

Hey there, here's a new set of recordings — more from the files of ‘The Richard Poems'.You'll remember I have shared two previous times reading, as I try to get to grips with these new poems, and work on the idea of creating an actual show:And, if you're playing at home, I like to give you the option to read along — so below are the poems featured in this podcast in their print/text ‘readings'.As always, very happy for your feedback. Will take your silence as some proof I'm on the right track :)“Happy” listening / reading…Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Thank you for reading Sounds Good! . This post is public so feel free to share it. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

I'm a huge fan of Jon Ronson. I've been following his work for around 25 years now, and when I wrote a short piece here recently plugging his upcoming Wellington gig, I could never have believed I might get to actually talk with him. First of all, I couldn't believe my luck that he was coming to NZ. I was trying to work out how to afford a trip to Melbourne…Anyway, this podcast episode — my first ‘proper' podcast chat in a year, finds me rusty, but eager. And hoping from here to be able to do this a bit more often, and via this Substack medium (but you can still find the podcast in all the usual places like Spotify, Amazon, Apple, etc). We talked about his show that he's bringing to Wellington. His only NZ show, and his first time in the country. He told me he's got a day to look around and is eager to hit up one of the wildlife sanctuaries, such as Zealandia. We also talked about how he's knee-deep in a new book, his first proper book project in a decade. Recent years have seen a focus on podcasts, and audiobooks, his brilliant Things Fell Apart series is well worth your time. We talked about The Psychopath Test, the book he wrote over a decade ago, which is the basis for his live shows; we talked Trump (related), and his recent encounter seeing Bruce Springsteen, as well as archival stories about Randy Newman, Malcolm Gladwell, and, um, Robbie Williams…Look, I just can't believe this happened. There's a handful of times in my life, after all that putting up with people calling me an arsehole for not liking their favourite band, where I can say at least I got to speak with absolute heroes of mine. Sonny Rollins. Suzanne Vega. Lionel Richie. George Benson. And now Jon Ronson. It makes it all worthwhile really.Here we are just chatting. He seems really nice. I seem — correctly — fanboy/ish and way-too-eager. But I believe in sharing. I believe in Publish and Be Damned. And I don't really think I exactly fucked this up. In fact, I feel like we were getting on really well…am I allowed to say that?Anyway, can't wait for the show. And here's a return-episode of Sweetman Podcast which you can listen to right here, right now, or through your preferred podcast platform. Thanks for listening. Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Thank you for reading Sounds Good! . This post is public so feel free to share it. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

An in-depth phone conversation with Henry Rollins. We promo his then-upcoming (2023) NZ tour but also talk about his move to Nashville, after 40 years of living in LA. We talk about his childhood, his recent return to travel, the Covid Lockdowns, his acting, his writing, his radio show. The works. Henry weighs in on America and politics, and previews the type of talk he'll be doing on the stage.Thank you for reading Sounds Good! . This post is public so feel free to share it.Sounds Good! is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

You'll remember that last month I went down to the Fringe Bar and read some new poems: I've decided I'll try get along and read some more of the new “Richard” poems. I'm trying to learn to sit in the moment with these poems, to let them hang. I'm bantering away between them because there's tension, then release, and hopefully some relief. There's not a lot of relief from these poems, so that's where the banter comes in to save. But I'm also trying to provide a wee bit of context, and to still let the poems hang, and live by themselves. A work in progress.Thank you for reading Sounds Good! . This post is public so feel free to share it.Anyway, if you'd like to read along, or read them before, or read after, these poems are:andand Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

I took myself down to Poetry in Motion's regular monthly open-mic night. There's always a feature poet, but a few slots for open-mic readings in the first half of the evening. Here is a warts-n-all live recording of three new poems from me, with a little context around the poems — and my return to open-mic reading after a lengthy absence. Finding my feet (and voice) with reading again. Hope you like. Happy for any feedback. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

Hi and welcome back to the podcast. I’ve had a huge break. This has been for a bunch of reasons – but really it was because of the pandemic. Lockdowns killed my flow, I didn’t want to just do phone and Skype chats. And then, ever since hitting ‘stop’ it’s been very hard to press ‘play’ again. Or in fact to hit ‘Record’.But here I am again, with the new sporadic approach to podcasting. Meaning, there’s no guarantee of a weekly chat or even fortnightly. I’m just hoping to get an episode up every now and then.And so, to episode 274 of Sweetman Podcast.The first podcast for the year. The longest break since I started this podcast.This conversation is a repeat guest. The writer Megan Dunn. I first spoke to Megan in 2018 (and you can click that link to hear the earlier chat). Megan had written her first book when I spoke to her a few years back. I asked her to come back when she completed her second book; it was going to be about mermaids. That book never happened. But there’s some writing about that topic – and we talk about that topic here and much of what’s in her second book, the brilliant Things I Learned At Art School, a memoir-in-essays.I’m a huge fan of Megan’s writing and it’s nice chatting with her – we geek out about pop culture and art.This conversation was actually recorded way back toward the end of last year – to date it I’m including a link to a New York Times article, Who Is The Bad Art Friend? We talk a bit about this in the podcast, this essay was doing the rounds at the time. That’ll give you a context for when this conversation took place. You can see how I never could have made it in the world of PR or event management. This is the biggest promotional lag ever! But it’s still a fun and relevant conversation. And the book is still available to buy. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

A conversation with comedian and TV host, Dai Henwood.

A phone conversationw with TV host and comedian Dai Henwood. We've never met and this is our first ever chat, so we talk lockdown and covid, and rap music, and we talk about his father, the late, great Ray Henwood (a wonderful actor). We do talk comedy, a bit. But this was more a getting-to-know-somehow chat. And I loved it. I hope you do too. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

A conversation with Wellington actor, writer, producer Jean Sergent.

An in-depth conversation with Wellington-based actor, writer and producer Jean Sergent. We talk about her life and work, growing up in an acting family, her current show - Live Through This - her interest in reading Tarot and a whole lot more. Great chat! Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

A talk I gave at the 2020 Manawatu Writers Festival. I'm talking about blogging - and indeed all the writing I do and my journey towards it and through it. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

A recording of a talk I gave at last year's Manawatu Writers Festival in Feilding. I spoke to an audience about my life in writing, my life as a blogger - and the 'training' that went into that.

A conversation with Wellington-based performance poet Tarns Hood. It's also a big chat about sobriety, alcoholism and the recent milestone for Tarns of five years (60 months) dry and sober.

An in-depth conversation with Wellington-based performance poet Tarns Hood. We talk about her style of work and she recites several poems - we talk poetry slams and performing in general. We also talk about sobriety, celebrate her recent 5-year (60 month) milestone. And she talks candidly about alcoholism. Her bottoming out. Her decision to work a program, to stay clean, to live day by day. And to channel into work and performance. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

A conversation with Andrew Gladstone - drummer for Garageland

An in-depth conversation with Andrew Gladstone, drummer for Garageland. We talk about the highs and lows of the band's career across the mid/late 1990s and early 00s and then Andrew's move to Hawke's Bay to hide from the music industry - where of course he went on to play even more drums (including with Fane Flaws - R.I.P.) We also talked about the upcoming Anniversary Tour where the original band members are reforming to play their classic debut record, "Last Exit To Garageland". Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

A conversation with the writer, reviewer and book-store owner, Catherine Robertson

An in-depth conversation with the writer and book-store owner Catherine Robertson. We talk art, books, music, movies - all the good things. Huge chat. We talk about Catherine's books - but also about writing in general; books in general. We talk through her life and influences and discuss book reviewing. And many other things along the way. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

A conversation with Wellington-based poet and sculptor Sam Duckor-Jones

An in-depth conversation with poet and sculptor Sam Duckor-Jones. We talk about, and he reads from, his new book, Party Legend. But we talk about his life making and creating, the need to make - and the search to find and announce one's self through the work. We talk about not connecting with school and not writing - beyond poetry. We talk about finding your medium, about the IIML, about listening in on other conversations and reading in public. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

A conversation with Otaki-based theatre actor Jeff Kingsford-Brown

An in-depth conversation with Otaki-based actor Jeff Kingsford-Brown. He's currently - as you hear this - the lead role in the show Elling at Circa Theatre in Wellington. He's been a professional actor for many years and we talk about his life and work, talking also of great screen performances by many acting legends. We talk technqique, we talk about some of the funny things that can happen on stage, and we talk about his early life in musical theatre and the training he underwent to devote a life to the stage. Get full access to Sounds Good! at simonsweetman.substack.com/subscribe

A short phoner with the comedy legend, author and raconteur.