I was a music journalist who flew around the world for gigs. I even met my husband on Last.fm. So losing half of my hearing felt like a cosmic jokeThroughout my life, I’ve been able to steadfastly rely on art to save me, but none more so than music. Poetry, getting lost in a painting, watching Swan Lake – that’s all well and good. But have you ever been a 12-year-old girl all alone at a new school, listening to Avril Lavigne? Frida Kahlo and a troupe of Russian ballerinas could perform bypass surgery on me and I’d still grovel at the altar of Bright Eyes for getting me through my first heartbreak, such is the lifesaving ability of some lyrics and a few chords.As a teenager, music was more than a hobby, it was how I connected with the world. Bands were my saints, vinyl my holy relics. My obsession only intensified; in my early 20s, I worked as a music journalist, interviewing bands, attending gigs and festivals with a hallowed media pass. My friendship group were all fellow music obsessives, and my social life revolved around live gigs, even flying from Australia to the UK just to see Belle and Sebastian perform. My obsession even nabbed me a life partner: I met my now-husband on the music forum site Last.fm, a fact that will be hilarious to explain to our two boys when they’re old enough to understand “scrobbling” and that they exist due to it. We even had our favourite artists’ lyrics inscribed on our wedding rings (his: “I’m so glad that you exist” – the Weakerthans. Mine: “Time is just a symptom of love” – Joanna Newsom). Continue reading...