I never should have heard the Go-Betweens in the first place. My brother had outgrown his cassette, and as a younger brother, naturally I inherited it. The first time I listened I do not even remember liking 16 Lovers Lane--it sounded like a sad finale. But later that was exactly why I did continue to listen. I had to grow into the Go-Betweens. Some bands you love instantly, but there are others keep you coming back. And then one day you wonder why you have not been in love with them from the start. It is an old tale: from begrudging emotion to falling in love.

Now I do recall a springtime when I would leave the windows open at night and listen to this one cassette. I want to say the Go-Betweens always reminded me of springtime, but perhaps that is just a coincidence. The world has hinged on slighter threads. I just only ever seemed to listen to this tape in the springtime at first. And I do recall one April morning driving home for a wedding listening to 16 Lovers Lane. I also remember at the start of an affair, laying on a picnic blanket listening to Before Hollywood. And neither of us could touch the other. I recall. . . too many things. (What good is memory anyway?) For a band I did not care for at first, I listened to them quite often. This has more to do with me than it does the Go-Betweens, but my life has always had a lot to do with me.

Last year the Go-Betweens released Bellavista Terrace, a 'best of' instead of a 'greatest hits'. Proper chart hits never quite happened before Grant McLennan and Robert Forster disbanded in the early 90's. However, the songs from the six albums left off could have been included just as easily. All the lyrics seem to cry to get out of that small town. The world is neither too big nor too small; it is just begging to be discovered. And then there is love.

So perhaps the Go-Betweens could remind anyone else of autumn, winter, or anything. I think of spring, and I make no apologies. Night skies are wide open before the leaves grow in. The world still seems so beautiful with the relief of growing green things popping through the mud. And you can do no wrong.