This week's installment of Hugs and Kisses from Brisbane-based Everett True comes a few days early. You're thrilled, we know.

Hugs and Kisses

The Relocated Outbursts of Everett True

This week: iTunes memory-jogging

The beauty of iTunes when you're stuck in a still unfamiliar country, which most press agents and musicians clearly think doesn't actually exist, is the way it can throw up random memories.

For example: Stanley Brinks. Three images spring to mind when I hear the plaintive tones of André (formerly of Herman Düne), wassailing his way through his solo 2008 album Dank U. First up, is of a man chain-smoking and parading his belly on stage at Brighton's Concorde Club as a French friend whispered that he saw Herman Düne play an entirely different set (every song different) three weeks previous and I fell to wondering how I could ever have confused the brothers Düne with a third generation Belle And Sebastian, when their solos were Modern Lovers-sharp and their riffing was as eloquent as the little Velvet Underground I've heard. Second, standing around in a cramped Brighton bar for close on two hours - myself and my wife, we knew no one--waiting for the bearded one to take the stage for a solo outing, and eventually giving up in despair, cursing the unpunctuality of rock'n'roll. We could've spoken (to André) but that might've broken the spell. And the third - this is purely imaginary--is of a boorish, slovenly, male musician boasting his way through sexual conquests on the road, as André seems to be doing on 'My Experience With Truth' on the aforesaid album. Urgh.

For example: Quickspace. A greatly underrated London band from the early Nineties--boasting an ex-Th' Faith Healer or two, and a whole ream of imagination. Everyone else was too busy pretending to pout like Bowie to the lame-ass revivalist sounds of Suede and early Blur to pay attention. Quickspace were frankly hilarious live, and exacting. Their groove on the 'Precious Little' EP was more My Bloody Valentine and Cornershop than Stereo-lab, but took on elements from each: their groove on 'A Rose' from the swansong The Death Of Quickspace is borderline Gorky's/Mekons but two songs along and we're talking Neu! crossed with Clara Bow most determinedly: the single 'Rise' was This Heat with a little Krautrock thrown in (um, This Heat, then) and the song itself almost be a direct precursor of Electrelane...and so on.

And man, they could drink. That's my main memory: the alcohol-fuelled snogging sessions down some Camden pub or other; and sharp, totally uncalled-for heckling at the back of a Tindersticks concert.