anyway that was the gist
pumpkin soup
mmm
been listening to humphreys n keens "the overflow"
a lot
nz guys huh?!
you dont hear this kinda thing in rock often
a lot of ya know bout aunty may who raised me on the showtunes
yeah you know
from south pacific
west side story
carousel
porgy n bess
etc
the characteristics of these songs were
romantic
meticulous attention to orchestral arrangements
often piano driven
tuneful singing
a warm fuzzy oldtime feeling
these were beautiful classic classic songs
i mean the ramones are great too
but these showtunes were oilpaintings
compared to rocks coloured pencils
anyway
humphreys n keen
not the greatest name i guess
anyway
this record has some stunningly beautiful songs
you know with major 7th chords n lovely melodies
the druid on the piano who i assume writes the music
knows his art n craft
the piano is just gorgeous
sad and romantic
jazzy sometiimes
the strings n things are lovingly done
this aint a record for guys who love metallica or something
this is old fashioned stuff
some of it could have been written in the 1920s
the words are tender and often almost naive
but not in a bad way
i dont want gimme danger little stranger every night
i got to like the guys voice n his take on things more n more
nk likes this record
i reckon my mum would like it
and i reckon a grand daughter in 2020 could like it too
track 2 is such a corker
i played it about 5 times in a row the other night
and no one here objected
downers: the inexplicable silent gaps in the middle of 2 songs
the occaisional twee bit (not that many really)
i know cd baby have this in stock at least
if you like that show tuney pianoey thing
warning :this record contains medium level violins
this record does not contain
feedback
space noises
swearwords
pounding drums/throbbing bass
screaming and shouting
its a very nice record
but sometimes nice is really ....er...nice
some of you may check it out n say
no thanks that dont rock
others will say
thank you being
thats one of the loveliest records i ever heard
think maybe blue nile without the electronics n trauma
but the same honest romantic leanings maybe without their weariness
anyway
i love track 2
which reminds me of a missing track from west side story
and that aint a bad thing
as far as billy corgi goes
i love his soft n delicate numbers
i love disarm oh what a fucking corker of a song
jesus im gonna play it in melbourne
i love tonight tonight
and all those strange songs on mel n collie
machina too
jesus he can write a good song
oh yeah i rate our billy highly
pleased to hear he gave rep-tile a good kicking
bought myself an eye in the pyramid shirt
i should have sent it to mem or mhs
but i greedily kept it for myself
muse : you couldnt bear to part with it
i got it on now as i type
oooh big brudder watching me
gonna be a revolution of the heart
soon
make it happen bruvvers n sistahs
lets make it happen
c'mon were taking over
the peaceniks
the psychedelic warlords
the animal lovers
the magicians n yogis
the singers
the sculptors
the myst-icks
the witches n whats
the surfers
the roadies
the rabid record collectors
the aesthetes n intellectuals
the bleeding heart idiots
who wouldnt know how to throw a decent invasion
the scientists who dont invent new kindsa bombs
the vegetarians
the ladies n real gentlemen
the vegetalistas
the healers n wisemen
the spiritual masters n mistresses
the good samaritans
the brave and patient
the generous and compassionate gang
the ones who turn people on
yeah
cmon
youre in there somewhere
ps btw
hump n keen do have some feedback...whooops!
but its very tasteful...
and davem
im saying it for you now
OOOOH MR HUMPHREYS.....!! YOU AINT 'ALF KEEN...!
Monday, March 31, 2008
Sunday, March 30, 2008
redirectable
things expand as they get warmer
matter compressed until it moves inward
the stones talk to me
down by the seashore
when vishnu says everything is connected
he means everything
he doesnt mean except the rocks
or except the cows and pigs and sheep
or except these guys n those guys
so i say again
the stones i hold in my hand
a whole beach of stones
clean mineral spirit
it vibrates so slowly
so heavy it has no consciousness our "science" can measure
two heart shape stones
carrying in the weird night
night of screams
night of probes
night of disappearance
night of sickness and anxiety
night catches me out running
lost lost lost
i am erskine again
that poor old magician
with his cloak and his wand
crying out to the unfamiliar stars
stones comfort me i command them
time being stilled
a hush upon both worlds
the waves congealed as they crashed
the moon waxed green and seasick
the clouds crashed into each other with audible screams
the treespirits huddled deep in the wood
down in the tangled bramble
moving along the vines like telegraph lines
like music gushing from a trumpet
like messages from the front
i duck and fight my invisible assailants
the stones in my hands guide my fists in the darkness
a crows horrible groan
something sinks its filthy teeth into me
you fucking bastard i say as bring the largest stone down
on its hideous head
its blood stinks to high heaving
the evil rotten thing
the moon shines for a second
i see with horror i have bashed my doppelganger senseless
erskine has bashed me senseless
i am bitten as i lash out wildly
the plants swim around me like eels
i know i am awake this can be no dream
i walk towards the nearest light
i limp like a dog licking my wounds
i am the animal i fear most
the stones pulse in my clawed hands
the humans hunt me down
the aliens chase me down
the lions and tigers eat me up
the cute fishies nibble at my gills
i dont want to end up in this tank
my filter has clogged up
nothing getting through
the stones talk with each other
they speak slow
a hundred years per word
my impatience is inflamed
infrared stones
see everything
do nothing
at all
matter compressed until it moves inward
the stones talk to me
down by the seashore
when vishnu says everything is connected
he means everything
he doesnt mean except the rocks
or except the cows and pigs and sheep
or except these guys n those guys
so i say again
the stones i hold in my hand
a whole beach of stones
clean mineral spirit
it vibrates so slowly
so heavy it has no consciousness our "science" can measure
two heart shape stones
carrying in the weird night
night of screams
night of probes
night of disappearance
night of sickness and anxiety
night catches me out running
lost lost lost
i am erskine again
that poor old magician
with his cloak and his wand
crying out to the unfamiliar stars
stones comfort me i command them
time being stilled
a hush upon both worlds
the waves congealed as they crashed
the moon waxed green and seasick
the clouds crashed into each other with audible screams
the treespirits huddled deep in the wood
down in the tangled bramble
moving along the vines like telegraph lines
like music gushing from a trumpet
like messages from the front
i duck and fight my invisible assailants
the stones in my hands guide my fists in the darkness
a crows horrible groan
something sinks its filthy teeth into me
you fucking bastard i say as bring the largest stone down
on its hideous head
its blood stinks to high heaving
the evil rotten thing
the moon shines for a second
i see with horror i have bashed my doppelganger senseless
erskine has bashed me senseless
i am bitten as i lash out wildly
the plants swim around me like eels
i know i am awake this can be no dream
i walk towards the nearest light
i limp like a dog licking my wounds
i am the animal i fear most
the stones pulse in my clawed hands
the humans hunt me down
the aliens chase me down
the lions and tigers eat me up
the cute fishies nibble at my gills
i dont want to end up in this tank
my filter has clogged up
nothing getting through
the stones talk with each other
they speak slow
a hundred years per word
my impatience is inflamed
infrared stones
see everything
do nothing
at all
Saturday, March 29, 2008
light burning my back
light burning my back
wolf with one thousand eyes
director of soul
pineal young
its midnight!
im a joker im a midnite toker
acacia smoker
i am the rider with tongue
i am the ancient idiot set free
oh i rock i roll and more...
the fruit of the sun and air and soil
i peruse the pseudo-holy
neon golden mage
i ride down midnights back laughing
on holiday in a room on my own
call me bark-ah
call me nature boy
call me the sigmund fiend
call me the groover baby cos i move rite in
highway dancer
at the intersection of worlds
yeah baby thats right
open up cos this is where it all comes together
you asked for a wordslinger with arcana amore
you said make mine panther
you said bring stevie back to being
you said type type type
you said dear mr kilbey
i am an alien spirit
and you gotta help reform this world
i said thats bullshit youre just my own mind
coming up with vainglorious egotistical twaddle
the muse said youre both wright
you said mr kilbey help me save the world
you said dear time man give me some time
you said holiday man this aint workin'
you said dear sk youre ok
you wrote in with your cards and letters
my 800 readers a day
yeah count em n weep
800 readers i love you all
thanks for your beautiful vibrations
that is so far out it makes me trip
far out where you said
oh man i said
is this some groovy lil happening or what?
just like in block you said
yes sk said this is block now
wrighters block? you said
suddenly the thread snaps
everything is vibration remember that
an alliance with a bad angel....ooooohh!
kilbey admitted to rozelle asylum
hes perfectly madly sane
no no sanely mad
he shouldnt write all that poetry
said dr benbow
its aggravating his arithmaticks
jesus kilbey youre bonkers
dad said slim dont go mad
mum said son youre acting like a lunatick
my abductors said fasten your seatbelt firmly
the captain said no smoking without me
the captain said i am in trans-mission
i said captain
he said what?
you wrote in and asked for more songs
i give these words to you
the music may appear in your head
may the music appear in your head
THE SONG OF THE BLUEGREEN FLARE
nasty little down load there
the light burning my back
alone in this midnite blue
i dont have to burn black
black as an absence
black as a void
avoiding the excess nothingness
avoiding the cold
i am burning colder than kings starrs
i imitate the traveller in the strange
i am uninsured unsure and unreassurable
i am kilbey kilbey kilbey
no youre not no no no
who are you i scream in my cell
yes i write from within the loony bin
is this the song
that all went wrong
is this still that song you ask
hey sk behind your mask
a song for the ass king
hey sk hey hey hey
hey day after day after day
kilbey son of mortal man
kilbey with green short steved shirt
kilbey with power nap
kilbey with glass dont keep out alien sex fiendss
kilbey under earths skies
kilbey a native of earth
wrong
what?
call in your outside help
gabriel in front
michael behind me
uriel to my right
hang on
do you believe in angels, dr benbow
benbow smiles
you know roy schieders died he says
and all that jazz
its showtime
ka-ching
energy drink joint codeine
ka-ching
energy drink joint codeine
ka-ching
energy drink joint codeine
its showtime
ka ching
i ching
the hierophant for hire
priest = cura not aura
theres been a miss print
fingerprince
kilbey you are fucking nuts says doc benbow
im actually sitting in ward 13
according to latest university tests
steve kilbey is quite a looney
scientists say kilbey has amotivational syndrome
science now tells us kilbey is 2 billion years old
we have carbon dated his ego and boy its a lulu
says prof benbow
and admiral benbow
malcolm fraser says im joan
kilbey says im jonesing for jazz
dr benbow is making me right this
hes got a syringe of amnesia aim at my jugular
my jugular and my clowns
my dentine is shot
my ability to timetravel is deteriorating
corroded by space
eaten up by matter
dissolved in a cloud of electa-rons
make sense damn you cries irate reader
angel appears says man have you got the wrong blog
st peter says man have you got the wrong gate
baby-lonian high priestesses:
i read about you girls last night
hey nudge nudge wink wink
say no more
kilbey you history sleaze
pornographic priestess
baby-lonian babes
yeah man whats the hurry
linger in sumer where its always summer
44 minutes gone
things slow down
kilbeys mind turns towards sleep
sleep rushes down from olympus at zeus' bidding
sleep brother of dream
he and sleep were brothers
kilbey warm and warmer
get red hot soon
the moon will swallow you
the ocean will have us all
its 1974
before i went mad
mad as a fucking hatter
mad as a march hare
deluded
besotted
obsessed
aggravated
chronick
nun of the above
dont drive now being
look out being
snakes biting you
fleas biting you
moths biting you
time itself biting you
the time biting
in batemans bay the poppies grow
in batemens bay in a caravan drinking beer
no benbow says
kilbey you are here in ward 13
rozelle mental hospital
balmain road, rozelle
your visiting hours are between 3 and 5 pm tuesday
you were born in 1954 your blood group is oh!
how come im on the fucking internet kilbey asks
triumphantly
the internet as you call it is in your mind
said benbow
an alien is talking
you are onboard our ship
now we gonna test you boyo
the witches n hobgoblins are at the door
ghastlies n shrieks
imps of evil intention n unknown origin
youre killing me killer screams
oh no oh no oh no
get me out
he sobs
get me out
blue his mind out in a car
notes alien/benbow
implosion of stars
complete blackness
extending in all directions
at once
wolf with one thousand eyes
director of soul
pineal young
its midnight!
im a joker im a midnite toker
acacia smoker
i am the rider with tongue
i am the ancient idiot set free
oh i rock i roll and more...
the fruit of the sun and air and soil
i peruse the pseudo-holy
neon golden mage
i ride down midnights back laughing
on holiday in a room on my own
call me bark-ah
call me nature boy
call me the sigmund fiend
call me the groover baby cos i move rite in
highway dancer
at the intersection of worlds
yeah baby thats right
open up cos this is where it all comes together
you asked for a wordslinger with arcana amore
you said make mine panther
you said bring stevie back to being
you said type type type
you said dear mr kilbey
i am an alien spirit
and you gotta help reform this world
i said thats bullshit youre just my own mind
coming up with vainglorious egotistical twaddle
the muse said youre both wright
you said mr kilbey help me save the world
you said dear time man give me some time
you said holiday man this aint workin'
you said dear sk youre ok
you wrote in with your cards and letters
my 800 readers a day
yeah count em n weep
800 readers i love you all
thanks for your beautiful vibrations
that is so far out it makes me trip
far out where you said
oh man i said
is this some groovy lil happening or what?
just like in block you said
yes sk said this is block now
wrighters block? you said
suddenly the thread snaps
everything is vibration remember that
an alliance with a bad angel....ooooohh!
kilbey admitted to rozelle asylum
hes perfectly madly sane
no no sanely mad
he shouldnt write all that poetry
said dr benbow
its aggravating his arithmaticks
jesus kilbey youre bonkers
dad said slim dont go mad
mum said son youre acting like a lunatick
my abductors said fasten your seatbelt firmly
the captain said no smoking without me
the captain said i am in trans-mission
i said captain
he said what?
you wrote in and asked for more songs
i give these words to you
the music may appear in your head
may the music appear in your head
THE SONG OF THE BLUEGREEN FLARE
nasty little down load there
the light burning my back
alone in this midnite blue
i dont have to burn black
black as an absence
black as a void
avoiding the excess nothingness
avoiding the cold
i am burning colder than kings starrs
i imitate the traveller in the strange
i am uninsured unsure and unreassurable
i am kilbey kilbey kilbey
no youre not no no no
who are you i scream in my cell
yes i write from within the loony bin
is this the song
that all went wrong
is this still that song you ask
hey sk behind your mask
a song for the ass king
hey sk hey hey hey
hey day after day after day
kilbey son of mortal man
kilbey with green short steved shirt
kilbey with power nap
kilbey with glass dont keep out alien sex fiendss
kilbey under earths skies
kilbey a native of earth
wrong
what?
call in your outside help
gabriel in front
michael behind me
uriel to my right
hang on
do you believe in angels, dr benbow
benbow smiles
you know roy schieders died he says
and all that jazz
its showtime
ka-ching
energy drink joint codeine
ka-ching
energy drink joint codeine
ka-ching
energy drink joint codeine
its showtime
ka ching
i ching
the hierophant for hire
priest = cura not aura
theres been a miss print
fingerprince
kilbey you are fucking nuts says doc benbow
im actually sitting in ward 13
according to latest university tests
steve kilbey is quite a looney
scientists say kilbey has amotivational syndrome
science now tells us kilbey is 2 billion years old
we have carbon dated his ego and boy its a lulu
says prof benbow
and admiral benbow
malcolm fraser says im joan
kilbey says im jonesing for jazz
dr benbow is making me right this
hes got a syringe of amnesia aim at my jugular
my jugular and my clowns
my dentine is shot
my ability to timetravel is deteriorating
corroded by space
eaten up by matter
dissolved in a cloud of electa-rons
make sense damn you cries irate reader
angel appears says man have you got the wrong blog
st peter says man have you got the wrong gate
baby-lonian high priestesses:
i read about you girls last night
hey nudge nudge wink wink
say no more
kilbey you history sleaze
pornographic priestess
baby-lonian babes
yeah man whats the hurry
linger in sumer where its always summer
44 minutes gone
things slow down
kilbeys mind turns towards sleep
sleep rushes down from olympus at zeus' bidding
sleep brother of dream
he and sleep were brothers
kilbey warm and warmer
get red hot soon
the moon will swallow you
the ocean will have us all
its 1974
before i went mad
mad as a fucking hatter
mad as a march hare
deluded
besotted
obsessed
aggravated
chronick
nun of the above
dont drive now being
look out being
snakes biting you
fleas biting you
moths biting you
time itself biting you
the time biting
in batemans bay the poppies grow
in batemens bay in a caravan drinking beer
no benbow says
kilbey you are here in ward 13
rozelle mental hospital
balmain road, rozelle
your visiting hours are between 3 and 5 pm tuesday
you were born in 1954 your blood group is oh!
how come im on the fucking internet kilbey asks
triumphantly
the internet as you call it is in your mind
said benbow
an alien is talking
you are onboard our ship
now we gonna test you boyo
the witches n hobgoblins are at the door
ghastlies n shrieks
imps of evil intention n unknown origin
youre killing me killer screams
oh no oh no oh no
get me out
he sobs
get me out
blue his mind out in a car
notes alien/benbow
implosion of stars
complete blackness
extending in all directions
at once
Friday, March 28, 2008
hamper
finely wrought
tailor of real spirit garment
special flames licking
our energy is unbounded
the music comes from here
not there or there
music is its own end
its end comes and goes leaving soft silence
music is a cake in sound
it is sonic sculpture
music wanders in dazed
music drinks down the pub
music frozen in arctic air
as titanic plummets through the sea
music hey i know you
explicit details not forthcoming
music versus argy bargy
musics dulcet fingers stroke my wrist
music brassy tramp
music virgin king
music swimming in blood and tears
quavers and semi-tones
strum n pluck
music going out with my sister
feel the beat from the tambourine
music arrives n departs
dishes out a sym-phony
music infests hotels
music having a little rest
you can count music
you can read music
you can listen to music
you can feel music
you can play music
you can ruin music
you can sell n buy music
record n reproduce it
music looks great naked or all dressed up
a sudden interrupture
an overturist pumping the cello
food of savage beasts
the birds sing
the bells ring
the spheres call out to each other in some freak-quency
god gives man yoga
then music
then it rained for a while
rome falls apart but they keep on dancing
attila the honey hun a rock n roll wrecker
on tour in europe
hannibal crosses the alps;
can you imagine the music that cat was listening to?
history lessen
an vanguarded moment
written by music
steve kilbey former public serpent
washed out pscho-delphic and clairvoyeur
singer singer a song then
oh great hes mixlequetl
songs soundalike nude current
kilbey hes old but hes olde
kilbey says something
sayer and singer
singer poor eyes
no hear anymore
something is discordant
f#minor and oh no
the centipede fingers of song
panther like hell
what does it all meanwhile
lithe awkward confused lucid in the sky
is it a saint or sinner
is it a geniass or a bum note
is it spontaneity or spondulicks
is it love that makes us rock
is it any wonder i reject you first
is it my name is it my name
is it nice in your snowstorm freezing your brain
is kilbey any good be
the answer is a simple yes and no
he is imtermittently god n bad
they clapped n laughed n drunk n barfed
people shook hands with elegaic n operatic gravity
notes dripped from their cred-it cards
kilbey sang about another song
embedded within a single locus
unclustered by its sheer individuality
yet embracing an ironic gregariousness
not a chant not a shopping liszt
not a rubberplant cheque
no led zip
no peep durple
no angus n the silly codger in the 'at
no denniss leigh or howie trafford
no feld or jones
no bulsara nor jeff beak
no beatles stones or elvis in 77
no joe in 08 neither
sydney calling
but its such nice weather here
we take a short break
a word from our sponsors
new music downloads
internet games porno gambling extortion
illegal drugs
hey kids
wanna earn money at home
JUST BY PLAYING THE BASS GUITAR!!!???
thats right!
you
YES YOU!
you may already be earning a fortune
just by being a talentless dork
plucking a bass in a stupid group
you maybe olde n still dieing your hareblonde
you may wonder why the girls all pass you by
you may wonder if a fourth planet existed
between mars and earth
you may wonder if that stuff your friend gave you
has unleashed some angel upon you
you may wonder why youre so angry
you may wonder why you still sit around wondering
no matter laughing
no point beyond this alcohol
my aunt went to bondi
and all i got was lousy blogge
shuttup
music is tricky
music is bisexual
music can see in the dark
or here in the light
kilbey must be jokingman
kilbey you flipped yer wiggy
kilbey should be a shame of himself
a wolfe in a lambs clothing
kilbey should move diagonally on black squares
hey baby bishop equals handjob remember
hey the church of manloves such a holy place toby
no pride of lions
this mangey panther got english teeth
he likes the laughing gas and the chamber of caresses
he digs the little flowers and he such a poppy starr
he do the inversions and the perversions and the conversions
man this killer is something else
he maps the inner realms but smudged the ink
he sings the body electric and the childe-mind
he wispyhair whisperer now hoarse
he back off boogaloo he back off slowly
no mere singer?
no singer at all?
what is it, kilbey, good for?
absolutely nothing
but nothing is better than complete happiness
not now
not like this
just like that
crescendo
return to main theme
short alphonzo
mezzi pasto allegretto vinna gretto
muted palm tree austinato
spellman and gaze
the nightfriends
the timps come in
rolling n booming
symbols crash
drummrole
curtains curtis
bomp diddy bom
titty bum titty bum bum bum
wallop woof warp wham
its over folks
see you necks time
tailor of real spirit garment
special flames licking
our energy is unbounded
the music comes from here
not there or there
music is its own end
its end comes and goes leaving soft silence
music is a cake in sound
it is sonic sculpture
music wanders in dazed
music drinks down the pub
music frozen in arctic air
as titanic plummets through the sea
music hey i know you
explicit details not forthcoming
music versus argy bargy
musics dulcet fingers stroke my wrist
music brassy tramp
music virgin king
music swimming in blood and tears
quavers and semi-tones
strum n pluck
music going out with my sister
feel the beat from the tambourine
music arrives n departs
dishes out a sym-phony
music infests hotels
music having a little rest
you can count music
you can read music
you can listen to music
you can feel music
you can play music
you can ruin music
you can sell n buy music
record n reproduce it
music looks great naked or all dressed up
a sudden interrupture
an overturist pumping the cello
food of savage beasts
the birds sing
the bells ring
the spheres call out to each other in some freak-quency
god gives man yoga
then music
then it rained for a while
rome falls apart but they keep on dancing
attila the honey hun a rock n roll wrecker
on tour in europe
hannibal crosses the alps;
can you imagine the music that cat was listening to?
history lessen
an vanguarded moment
written by music
steve kilbey former public serpent
washed out pscho-delphic and clairvoyeur
singer singer a song then
oh great hes mixlequetl
songs soundalike nude current
kilbey hes old but hes olde
kilbey says something
sayer and singer
singer poor eyes
no hear anymore
something is discordant
f#minor and oh no
the centipede fingers of song
panther like hell
what does it all meanwhile
lithe awkward confused lucid in the sky
is it a saint or sinner
is it a geniass or a bum note
is it spontaneity or spondulicks
is it love that makes us rock
is it any wonder i reject you first
is it my name is it my name
is it nice in your snowstorm freezing your brain
is kilbey any good be
the answer is a simple yes and no
he is imtermittently god n bad
they clapped n laughed n drunk n barfed
people shook hands with elegaic n operatic gravity
notes dripped from their cred-it cards
kilbey sang about another song
embedded within a single locus
unclustered by its sheer individuality
yet embracing an ironic gregariousness
not a chant not a shopping liszt
not a rubberplant cheque
no led zip
no peep durple
no angus n the silly codger in the 'at
no denniss leigh or howie trafford
no feld or jones
no bulsara nor jeff beak
no beatles stones or elvis in 77
no joe in 08 neither
sydney calling
but its such nice weather here
we take a short break
a word from our sponsors
new music downloads
internet games porno gambling extortion
illegal drugs
hey kids
wanna earn money at home
JUST BY PLAYING THE BASS GUITAR!!!???
thats right!
you
YES YOU!
you may already be earning a fortune
just by being a talentless dork
plucking a bass in a stupid group
you maybe olde n still dieing your hareblonde
you may wonder why the girls all pass you by
you may wonder if a fourth planet existed
between mars and earth
you may wonder if that stuff your friend gave you
has unleashed some angel upon you
you may wonder why youre so angry
you may wonder why you still sit around wondering
no matter laughing
no point beyond this alcohol
my aunt went to bondi
and all i got was lousy blogge
shuttup
music is tricky
music is bisexual
music can see in the dark
or here in the light
kilbey must be jokingman
kilbey you flipped yer wiggy
kilbey should be a shame of himself
a wolfe in a lambs clothing
kilbey should move diagonally on black squares
hey baby bishop equals handjob remember
hey the church of manloves such a holy place toby
no pride of lions
this mangey panther got english teeth
he likes the laughing gas and the chamber of caresses
he digs the little flowers and he such a poppy starr
he do the inversions and the perversions and the conversions
man this killer is something else
he maps the inner realms but smudged the ink
he sings the body electric and the childe-mind
he wispyhair whisperer now hoarse
he back off boogaloo he back off slowly
no mere singer?
no singer at all?
what is it, kilbey, good for?
absolutely nothing
but nothing is better than complete happiness
not now
not like this
just like that
crescendo
return to main theme
short alphonzo
mezzi pasto allegretto vinna gretto
muted palm tree austinato
spellman and gaze
the nightfriends
the timps come in
rolling n booming
symbols crash
drummrole
curtains curtis
bomp diddy bom
titty bum titty bum bum bum
wallop woof warp wham
its over folks
see you necks time
Thursday, March 27, 2008
clear permanent protection
autumn pinches my hands n feet n nose
joyce knitted me a nose warmer once
its a nice nose but it gets cold easy
my feet are like blocks of ice n it aint even cold yet really
ive had acupuncture n massage
ive done ryans shoulder movements
i do yoga everyday of course
but my arms n shoulder hate to type
my desk is in a mess
a veritable explosion of receipts n cds n dvds
books on art
pastel applicators
tins of v
bottles of fiji
ah
you'll see it when you buy my dvd
"get stoned and paint"
subtitled
gouache n pastel painting for kil-beginners
aka
the killer gets out his eisel
or
my 3 year old kid could do better than that
or
you call that art....?
or
stick to music please, steve...
anyway
my friend nelg
has been coming round
filming me in action
why he even captured the lost family portrait
that took me so long
that disappeared in fed exs clumsy mitts
youll see my messy room where i blogge n paint
i rented a little garage out the back here
to be my "studio"
but its cold and it leaks
its dirty n dusty n damp
its dark n dank
and now its filled up with bags of clothes
and bags of cds
bicycles and suitcases etc
youd only wanna be out there on the warmest summer night
n then the mozzies 'd getcha or the ants...
in sydney theres always something biting at ya
some little ant or mite bit my big toe th'other nite
while i was painting
it itched n itched
i couldnt even figure out where the itch was coming from...
i coulda ripped my toe off it was so insistent...
yeah
so get stoned n paint
its hopefully coming soon
nelg is doing a good job
and some nice stills
and
there will be some impressive extra features
did you guys know im having an exhibition in ohio in june
why ohio ?
well we added up the place with my most fans
and we got johnny groucho garratt
we got nick "science" fiction
and we got eekie beekie kiabgoa
(who doesnt really count seeing shes organizing it)
so ok 3 fans...its a headstart
i mean nick n johnny gonna buy a few big pieces aint they
nick n johnny gonna load up on prints cards n dvds etc
hey you texans...jump in the car n get yerselves there
hey you l.a. types...ohio is beautiful in summer
(it is too....strangely old and sad though)
anyway i went out to tims yesterday
and worked on new church record
picked up my copy of shriek
its really good.....
tonight im playing the vanguard
and i hope you come on down if you live in syd
and i hope the spirit possesses me a bit at least
my march royalties came in and theyre very disappointing
getting hard to see how ends will meet
if things go on like this
i owe a bit of tax and theyre gonna put the squeeze on soon
everything is delayed or running slow
the record biz is collapsing
and hippy renaissance men arent in such big demand
im doing some more private functions
and im doing some other things too
but......
i keep thinking about an article my olde friend brian smith sent
about how you need one thousand true fans
you get your 1000 true fans (or fiendss....)
you get em to pay ya 100 bucks a year
and you
relieved of financial burden
can concentrate on yer art
of course the 100 k aint all gravy
you gotta pay recording costs n equipment costs
you gotta manufacture n send out the stuff you do
(let me say right here n now in case some of you groaning
that those among you who made those large donations
are already included if this was to be...so relax!)
you would be patrons and you would get exclusivity
we would be in bizness together
we would finalize our arrangement
and i would guarantee a certain number of things each year
eg say...3 cds and 2 dvds and a book...im just guessing here
and however else the arrangement develops
it would be a mutual growing thing...i would hope
anyway
its weird to be even thinking about it
but apparently its becoming a new way of doing things
this is only in daydream stage at the moment
but
i gotta figure out a better way to exploit myself
in the wings i have waiting the compleat kilbey lyric book
the jack frost u.s. tour dvd
and a few other goodies
painkiller n kilbey/kennedy
(martin kennedy appearing with me in melbo!)
artistically things look good
but
financially theyre bleak
unless just-in timbre-ache records utmw
or somethin'......
joyce knitted me a nose warmer once
its a nice nose but it gets cold easy
my feet are like blocks of ice n it aint even cold yet really
ive had acupuncture n massage
ive done ryans shoulder movements
i do yoga everyday of course
but my arms n shoulder hate to type
my desk is in a mess
a veritable explosion of receipts n cds n dvds
books on art
pastel applicators
tins of v
bottles of fiji
ah
you'll see it when you buy my dvd
"get stoned and paint"
subtitled
gouache n pastel painting for kil-beginners
aka
the killer gets out his eisel
or
my 3 year old kid could do better than that
or
you call that art....?
or
stick to music please, steve...
anyway
my friend nelg
has been coming round
filming me in action
why he even captured the lost family portrait
that took me so long
that disappeared in fed exs clumsy mitts
youll see my messy room where i blogge n paint
i rented a little garage out the back here
to be my "studio"
but its cold and it leaks
its dirty n dusty n damp
its dark n dank
and now its filled up with bags of clothes
and bags of cds
bicycles and suitcases etc
youd only wanna be out there on the warmest summer night
n then the mozzies 'd getcha or the ants...
in sydney theres always something biting at ya
some little ant or mite bit my big toe th'other nite
while i was painting
it itched n itched
i couldnt even figure out where the itch was coming from...
i coulda ripped my toe off it was so insistent...
yeah
so get stoned n paint
its hopefully coming soon
nelg is doing a good job
and some nice stills
and
there will be some impressive extra features
did you guys know im having an exhibition in ohio in june
why ohio ?
well we added up the place with my most fans
and we got johnny groucho garratt
we got nick "science" fiction
and we got eekie beekie kiabgoa
(who doesnt really count seeing shes organizing it)
so ok 3 fans...its a headstart
i mean nick n johnny gonna buy a few big pieces aint they
nick n johnny gonna load up on prints cards n dvds etc
hey you texans...jump in the car n get yerselves there
hey you l.a. types...ohio is beautiful in summer
(it is too....strangely old and sad though)
anyway i went out to tims yesterday
and worked on new church record
picked up my copy of shriek
its really good.....
tonight im playing the vanguard
and i hope you come on down if you live in syd
and i hope the spirit possesses me a bit at least
my march royalties came in and theyre very disappointing
getting hard to see how ends will meet
if things go on like this
i owe a bit of tax and theyre gonna put the squeeze on soon
everything is delayed or running slow
the record biz is collapsing
and hippy renaissance men arent in such big demand
im doing some more private functions
and im doing some other things too
but......
i keep thinking about an article my olde friend brian smith sent
about how you need one thousand true fans
you get your 1000 true fans (or fiendss....)
you get em to pay ya 100 bucks a year
and you
relieved of financial burden
can concentrate on yer art
of course the 100 k aint all gravy
you gotta pay recording costs n equipment costs
you gotta manufacture n send out the stuff you do
(let me say right here n now in case some of you groaning
that those among you who made those large donations
are already included if this was to be...so relax!)
you would be patrons and you would get exclusivity
we would be in bizness together
we would finalize our arrangement
and i would guarantee a certain number of things each year
eg say...3 cds and 2 dvds and a book...im just guessing here
and however else the arrangement develops
it would be a mutual growing thing...i would hope
anyway
its weird to be even thinking about it
but apparently its becoming a new way of doing things
this is only in daydream stage at the moment
but
i gotta figure out a better way to exploit myself
in the wings i have waiting the compleat kilbey lyric book
the jack frost u.s. tour dvd
and a few other goodies
painkiller n kilbey/kennedy
(martin kennedy appearing with me in melbo!)
artistically things look good
but
financially theyre bleak
unless just-in timbre-ache records utmw
or somethin'......
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
sky island
we just kept on getting it wrong
didnt we
underestimating this
overestimating that
the obvious stuff
everything was everything
but all we saw was the difference
it was encoded in us to always fumble n fudge it
coming up with something brilliant
we slid down the ladders n climbed up the snakes
it was so easy to just kill
opposable thumbs
we can do lots of things
defenceless offenders
we had goldrushes
we had coppertone tans
we had free witch trial offers
we burned em and called them the monsters
we cured this thing
but it caused that thing
we killed that
and it grew more and more heads
we swallowed elephants to catch flies
and the flies swallowed
and the swallows flew
they went north n south
but we were always there first
finest vases and coloseums
laying mosaics or laying waste
christian lion slave
hippos and horses
snow or sand
we called them explorers
but they were bulls in china shops
destroying and ruining
send out the missionaries
its time some of these people
found out the bad news:
what?
some woman ate an apple
and now we all gonna suffer?
but it must be right
or we wouldnt win all those wars
the hundred years war
wow !
the great grandfathers started it
and some geezer in the distant future will end it
who cares why?
just dont get caught
and if you do
get a rationale
say you were just following orders
you didnt know they would all die
did you
forget all that
weve got pictures of actors
look this ones fat
look this ones thin
look this ones hot
look this ones not
he got her heart
but these two break apart
have a drink and watch the game
the rules have changed but the objects the same
regulations and paragraphs
parking inspectors outside a graveyard booking a hearse
knock down the forest to make a book about forests
maintain popularity no matter what
never say youre sorry even if you actually are:
untrustworthy my manners are impeccable
more tea vicar? pew its a scorcher....
my ipod has sat nav
my sat nav has an A I persona
the A I persona has a glitch
the glitch is built-in
a necessary hiccup
a human error
is that possible?
take it back
theyre churning these things out
millions n millions n millions
for kids in the third n fourth worlds
for us in the first world too
and the second world and minute world
and jimmy and erises world of laughs
hey
that eye in the pyramid...
whos it watching?
me?
naw
what did i ever do?
my shrink says
hey you...youre fucking nuts
then he charged me
and now im really mad
and im confused
im gonna look at some pictures of actors
ooh look this ones fat
and
this ones thin....
golly!
this is .......alright
didnt we
underestimating this
overestimating that
the obvious stuff
everything was everything
but all we saw was the difference
it was encoded in us to always fumble n fudge it
coming up with something brilliant
we slid down the ladders n climbed up the snakes
it was so easy to just kill
opposable thumbs
we can do lots of things
defenceless offenders
we had goldrushes
we had coppertone tans
we had free witch trial offers
we burned em and called them the monsters
we cured this thing
but it caused that thing
we killed that
and it grew more and more heads
we swallowed elephants to catch flies
and the flies swallowed
and the swallows flew
they went north n south
but we were always there first
finest vases and coloseums
laying mosaics or laying waste
christian lion slave
hippos and horses
snow or sand
we called them explorers
but they were bulls in china shops
destroying and ruining
send out the missionaries
its time some of these people
found out the bad news:
what?
some woman ate an apple
and now we all gonna suffer?
but it must be right
or we wouldnt win all those wars
the hundred years war
wow !
the great grandfathers started it
and some geezer in the distant future will end it
who cares why?
just dont get caught
and if you do
get a rationale
say you were just following orders
you didnt know they would all die
did you
forget all that
weve got pictures of actors
look this ones fat
look this ones thin
look this ones hot
look this ones not
he got her heart
but these two break apart
have a drink and watch the game
the rules have changed but the objects the same
regulations and paragraphs
parking inspectors outside a graveyard booking a hearse
knock down the forest to make a book about forests
maintain popularity no matter what
never say youre sorry even if you actually are:
untrustworthy my manners are impeccable
more tea vicar? pew its a scorcher....
my ipod has sat nav
my sat nav has an A I persona
the A I persona has a glitch
the glitch is built-in
a necessary hiccup
a human error
is that possible?
take it back
theyre churning these things out
millions n millions n millions
for kids in the third n fourth worlds
for us in the first world too
and the second world and minute world
and jimmy and erises world of laughs
hey
that eye in the pyramid...
whos it watching?
me?
naw
what did i ever do?
my shrink says
hey you...youre fucking nuts
then he charged me
and now im really mad
and im confused
im gonna look at some pictures of actors
ooh look this ones fat
and
this ones thin....
golly!
this is .......alright
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
timebey, the kilbeing
post 911
no
i aint gonna go there
and i was in de. the day it happened
an hour or so down the road.....
many confused thoughts today
i see no clear train of thought emerging
the incredible beautiful things my commenters write..
the stupid wilfully ignorant things....
a bit like me
as above so below
i tell you what
i will try (TRY!)
to refrain from my aggressive rhetoric
if we can have no more disharmony
on the comments
ie
i dont wanna read you slagging each other off
cmon
its beneath our dignity now people
i was the worst ...i admit it
and yeah i told a lotta people (to fuck)off
no more quoth the raven
this blogge......
out of control
swallowing up my time n my back n shoulders n arm
addicted to it i am
seduced by its immediacy
this is my autoblography
this is real deal
if you know me here
you know me better
tuesday morning, garbo day in n.bondi
my friend in hosp. sleeping more n more
they read him a poem i wrote for 'im
when he woke up the other day
when he woke up for 10 minutes
you see the thing is pushing on him
making him sleepier n sleepier
but he wakes up n asks em to read him my poem
and he liked it
and the people present liked it
and he squeezed my brothers hand as he read it
and believe me it contained the word "fucking" a few times
as i railed against the injustice
and praised my friend to the high skies
and my brother said
maybe that poem could be a blogge
and if my friend checks out of this vale of tears (if?!)
then maybe i will...
this week i play the vanguard in newt-town
featuring some other players with me too
i think its gonna be cool
and
i think i sense
the very tiniest revival in sks fortunes
thats because im so much better now
the spirit took me in gosford
its gonna take me in newt-town
what is this spirit?
this spirit is the spirit of music who takes human beings
or sends them as my dad used to say
baby these days im getting sent
me
the whitest of whiteys got some soul?
believe it , childe
king rude daddy starting to loosen up
but you were always so unhappy before
now you smiling all night....says a. gosford-punter
my mother so sagely put it to me
when i asked her about the gig
"it took you a long time to learn, son!"
yes yes joycie thats it thats it!
everything takes me so long to learn
but
i do learn in the end
i always had good songs
always
but the way i delivered em
the way i handled my self
(ooooh mr davem!!)
i wasnt cool i was frigid
i wasnt broody i was rude
i wasnt enigmatic i was bloody ignorant
i wasnt superior i was supercilious
trying to be a composite of other geezers
instead of letting les kilbeys boy out
the 'alf cockney 'alf aussie bloke
who could dabble in music
dabble in painting
and make people fucking well laugh
just like me dad could n did
i aint no david blowie
i aint no bobby zimmerlan
i aint no johnny o boogie ono lenin
my mother also said to me
im proud of you son
i said whys that mum?
she said
you were being nice to people.....
how did that take so long to learn?
the most basic things
the doodles already know that...
when they come back from anywhere
people say
oh theyre so nice...
the twillies too
a certain judge here in sydney
my daughters friends with his daughter
he takes me aside and tells me
that they are so polite well mannered n considerate
with all the gravity a judge can muster...
all my daughters (cept the woofle)
so so nice n friendly
thats sk for ya tho
i had the minutiae covered
i knew the names of all the gods n goddesses in about 10 pantheons
our headmaster mr slade would defer to me in mythological questions
but
could i be nice?
could i hell?
what was this glaring hole in me?
why did i go round this world pissing people off?
nice work kilbeing!
you could write poems
but you could never manage a smile...
ha
just like a human
just like humanity
our heads up our own wazoos
all we needed to be was nice
and to let it all go
just
let it go
fiendss
i love you all
sk
no
i aint gonna go there
and i was in de. the day it happened
an hour or so down the road.....
many confused thoughts today
i see no clear train of thought emerging
the incredible beautiful things my commenters write..
the stupid wilfully ignorant things....
a bit like me
as above so below
i tell you what
i will try (TRY!)
to refrain from my aggressive rhetoric
if we can have no more disharmony
on the comments
ie
i dont wanna read you slagging each other off
cmon
its beneath our dignity now people
i was the worst ...i admit it
and yeah i told a lotta people (to fuck)off
no more quoth the raven
this blogge......
out of control
swallowing up my time n my back n shoulders n arm
addicted to it i am
seduced by its immediacy
this is my autoblography
this is real deal
if you know me here
you know me better
tuesday morning, garbo day in n.bondi
my friend in hosp. sleeping more n more
they read him a poem i wrote for 'im
when he woke up the other day
when he woke up for 10 minutes
you see the thing is pushing on him
making him sleepier n sleepier
but he wakes up n asks em to read him my poem
and he liked it
and the people present liked it
and he squeezed my brothers hand as he read it
and believe me it contained the word "fucking" a few times
as i railed against the injustice
and praised my friend to the high skies
and my brother said
maybe that poem could be a blogge
and if my friend checks out of this vale of tears (if?!)
then maybe i will...
this week i play the vanguard in newt-town
featuring some other players with me too
i think its gonna be cool
and
i think i sense
the very tiniest revival in sks fortunes
thats because im so much better now
the spirit took me in gosford
its gonna take me in newt-town
what is this spirit?
this spirit is the spirit of music who takes human beings
or sends them as my dad used to say
baby these days im getting sent
me
the whitest of whiteys got some soul?
believe it , childe
king rude daddy starting to loosen up
but you were always so unhappy before
now you smiling all night....says a. gosford-punter
my mother so sagely put it to me
when i asked her about the gig
"it took you a long time to learn, son!"
yes yes joycie thats it thats it!
everything takes me so long to learn
but
i do learn in the end
i always had good songs
always
but the way i delivered em
the way i handled my self
(ooooh mr davem!!)
i wasnt cool i was frigid
i wasnt broody i was rude
i wasnt enigmatic i was bloody ignorant
i wasnt superior i was supercilious
trying to be a composite of other geezers
instead of letting les kilbeys boy out
the 'alf cockney 'alf aussie bloke
who could dabble in music
dabble in painting
and make people fucking well laugh
just like me dad could n did
i aint no david blowie
i aint no bobby zimmerlan
i aint no johnny o boogie ono lenin
my mother also said to me
im proud of you son
i said whys that mum?
she said
you were being nice to people.....
how did that take so long to learn?
the most basic things
the doodles already know that...
when they come back from anywhere
people say
oh theyre so nice...
the twillies too
a certain judge here in sydney
my daughters friends with his daughter
he takes me aside and tells me
that they are so polite well mannered n considerate
with all the gravity a judge can muster...
all my daughters (cept the woofle)
so so nice n friendly
thats sk for ya tho
i had the minutiae covered
i knew the names of all the gods n goddesses in about 10 pantheons
our headmaster mr slade would defer to me in mythological questions
but
could i be nice?
could i hell?
what was this glaring hole in me?
why did i go round this world pissing people off?
nice work kilbeing!
you could write poems
but you could never manage a smile...
ha
just like a human
just like humanity
our heads up our own wazoos
all we needed to be was nice
and to let it all go
just
let it go
fiendss
i love you all
sk
Monday, March 24, 2008
one after 909
yes
this is post 910
the church played last night at lizottes
a small restaurant theatre on nsws central coast
the gig was accoustic
we played pretty damn fine
my mother was there
the audience was great
the food before was excellent
i had a polenta stack
i didnt make too many mistakes
the dressing room was really nice
looking out on a garden and then green rolling fields
almost was like sweden in summertime
i was driving so i didnt drink
it was raining and misty as we drove home
petes daughter O slept in the back
shed been doing guitar teching
peter had been talking to my mother
and we talked about my parents as i drove carefully home
about my dads angina
and his business and stuff
we felt satisfied with the gig
despite any odds we accounted of ourselves well
the olde sk could have never done it
but he buggered off
and left me standing here
with the necessity of doing it
he had his fun
he had his moment
then he sucked off into his mind
i was the result of his abdication
we are partially connected still in some way
he assists in an advisory capacity now
but i dont miss him that much
enjoy yer last day of easter!
kil b
this is post 910
the church played last night at lizottes
a small restaurant theatre on nsws central coast
the gig was accoustic
we played pretty damn fine
my mother was there
the audience was great
the food before was excellent
i had a polenta stack
i didnt make too many mistakes
the dressing room was really nice
looking out on a garden and then green rolling fields
almost was like sweden in summertime
i was driving so i didnt drink
it was raining and misty as we drove home
petes daughter O slept in the back
shed been doing guitar teching
peter had been talking to my mother
and we talked about my parents as i drove carefully home
about my dads angina
and his business and stuff
we felt satisfied with the gig
despite any odds we accounted of ourselves well
the olde sk could have never done it
but he buggered off
and left me standing here
with the necessity of doing it
he had his fun
he had his moment
then he sucked off into his mind
i was the result of his abdication
we are partially connected still in some way
he assists in an advisory capacity now
but i dont miss him that much
enjoy yer last day of easter!
kil b
Sunday, March 23, 2008
easter island
ooops!
sorry bout those sugary kids songs folks
i guess you gotta hear em....
and the lyrics are a bit lame ...
i guess you know i can sling around a bit of language
and so i think
well they know i can write ironic bitter and grandiose things
so im just experimenting
maybe
i can let them right into my life
heres the personal stuff
kids songs included
anyway if ya wanted to stab me
you picked a goodtime
cos im not feeling so big right now
look im gonna tell ya something about music n art too
the intention of the artist
and your interpretation will never be the same
so let your vision remain intact;
after these things are created
the artist has no more insight
than anyone else
just like i dont n cant control or understand elli n minna
a further comment on the wiggles comparison
they dont hate me
but they would if i was on their tv sets singing
the woofle song every morning
anyway
let me assure you
my kids songs have much better melodies than theirs
because my songwriting is still right on
even if its a jingle or kidssong
and i gotta say it
the woofle song is damned catchy
especially as i can hear this great phil spector arrangement
in my head
i guess its hard to always get it right on here
i dont understand it myself
i dont understand myself either
maybe im not the guy who wrote gaf
maybe i have no right to comment on those olde days
maybe that guy disappeared with all his attributes
into the yawning mouth of time
i aint no hip gunslinger no more
i could be i guess
but it is a wearisome mantle
i seen such stuff
you have no idea
im just hoping goodness n mercy now
im just hoping to be a man
i have lapsed in taste many times on this blogge
in the name of the pursuit of honesty
in the pursuit of getting close to whatever i am
yesterday
i was just that soft olde fool
today
im a sadder wiser softer fool
but you know
by monday
i could be the nasty little bugger
that pops up here
now n then
ok
to everyone else
thank you for the things you have written
thank you for your thoughts prayers n reflections
let us have no disharmony
have a happy wiggly easter
stevie
xxxxxx
sorry bout those sugary kids songs folks
i guess you gotta hear em....
and the lyrics are a bit lame ...
i guess you know i can sling around a bit of language
and so i think
well they know i can write ironic bitter and grandiose things
so im just experimenting
maybe
i can let them right into my life
heres the personal stuff
kids songs included
anyway if ya wanted to stab me
you picked a goodtime
cos im not feeling so big right now
look im gonna tell ya something about music n art too
the intention of the artist
and your interpretation will never be the same
so let your vision remain intact;
after these things are created
the artist has no more insight
than anyone else
just like i dont n cant control or understand elli n minna
a further comment on the wiggles comparison
they dont hate me
but they would if i was on their tv sets singing
the woofle song every morning
anyway
let me assure you
my kids songs have much better melodies than theirs
because my songwriting is still right on
even if its a jingle or kidssong
and i gotta say it
the woofle song is damned catchy
especially as i can hear this great phil spector arrangement
in my head
i guess its hard to always get it right on here
i dont understand it myself
i dont understand myself either
maybe im not the guy who wrote gaf
maybe i have no right to comment on those olde days
maybe that guy disappeared with all his attributes
into the yawning mouth of time
i aint no hip gunslinger no more
i could be i guess
but it is a wearisome mantle
i seen such stuff
you have no idea
im just hoping goodness n mercy now
im just hoping to be a man
i have lapsed in taste many times on this blogge
in the name of the pursuit of honesty
in the pursuit of getting close to whatever i am
yesterday
i was just that soft olde fool
today
im a sadder wiser softer fool
but you know
by monday
i could be the nasty little bugger
that pops up here
now n then
ok
to everyone else
thank you for the things you have written
thank you for your thoughts prayers n reflections
let us have no disharmony
have a happy wiggly easter
stevie
xxxxxx
Saturday, March 22, 2008
easter eden
strange gloomy weather falls down on sydney
me n my little woofle go out early
for walky talky
i dress the woofle in the doodles clothes
and she looks pretty good considering shes 2
and theyre 8
we go outside she says cold
she says wind
little consolation of my olde age :
darling little woofle
wont you take a walk with me
(little woofle take a walk with me)
cmon woofle think how happy baby
we could be
(little woofle if you walked with me)....
this family has a lot of songs we sing
about doing everyday things
(usually written by moi...of course)
we have
tell me who
(who who who)
who is yer favourite doodle
(who who who who)
who is yer favourite doodle
(who who who who)
who is yer doodle now
wa wa wa wa wa wa wa wah
oh do you like that little starr?
(i love to drive her in my car)
oh do you like that biggle childe?
(well her charms just drive me wild)
please tell me who....
both the woofle song n the fave doodle song
set to bona fide great 50s chord progressions
and catchy melodies that stick in your head
the family all joins in (including twillies if theyre here)
singing backing vox, taking turns with lead vox
of course then theres
the gotta have doodles song
which is a frank sinatra-y affair
you gotta have....doodles
you gotta have....doodles
cos doodles
are oodles
of fun
(fingersnap, fingersnap)
yeah!
(the yeah! whispered by the woofle like a real jazz cat)
anyway
we're walking down street singing the woofle song
woofle n i grokking north bond-eyes incredible profusion of flowers
i need look no further than this
for evidence of god
(evidence of god...the idea is ludicrous)
here are pure white frangis
here are some with lovely lemon yellow tinges
here are some practically the most delicate pink you ever saw
here are hibiscus flowers with various subtle n gaudy hues
cactii with bulging pink n purple flowers
passionfruit tree flowers
the weeds all flower too
and the elephant ears ferns n boston ferns n money trees
i think of going n visiting michael h
who is as lovely a bloke as you could meet
but it is good friday before 11
then there he is walking down the street
larger than life
he must be a nice guy cos the woofle
leans outta my arms
to plant a big wet woofley kiss
on his stubbly face
im driving over to teepees
to work on new chrch album
on the way there
i visit my friend
who doesnt seem to wake up
as i sit holding his hand
oh he was in a deep restful place
and of course
i did not resent him his near absence
he was in a much nicer room today
some scented candles were burning
and brian enos music for airports tinkled almost silently
i talk to him about eno
about dylan n harrison
who my friend reminds me of
i talk to him about what i believe
sometimes he gently squeezes my hand n moves
ever so slightly
when i leave
and the next of his many friends n family come in
he opens his eye a little
gives me a sleepy grin for a miilisecond
i cant stop thinking about him
i meet his mum n dad who are the loveliest people
i go out into the rain n wind
i walk across a park in darlinghurst
im crying my heart out
and i need to have a piss
i just walk up to tree
and stand there
in the middle of sydney
peeing and weeping
no one around at all
so no indecent exposure charges yet
on the otherhand it hasnt made my career take off
a la bill wyman n stones...
also
was supposed to be in paper yesterday in fridays metro section
as it was good friday
there was no metro n next friday is too late for my gig
gulp! have i fallen through the cracks again????
have a safe drive to tims
through kings cross william st
into sydney
out the otherside
over anzac bridge
(we used to call it madonnas bra)
up past rozelle
balmain
drummoyne
over gladesville bridge
into ryde
east ryde
putney
i listen to brainwashed by george harrison
his last album
its a beauty too
a beautiful reading from "how to know god"
by the indian sage patanjali
segues into the last song
the soul doesnt love
the soul is love
the soul doesnt exist
it is existence, itself
then at the end of the song
george chants and the lovely indian-ish music returns
suddenly a great comfort fills me
i think of all the good people waiting on "the otherside"
grant n george
my dad
jeff buckley
maybe soon my friend
oh if only these guys will appear to show me the ropes
when i turn up in that peaceful place
anyway down i go tims drive
hes pottering round in his studio
soldering leads or whatever it is
we listen to the 4 songs so far completed with vox
the 1st is a stately piano driven progression
we have put almost choral-like voices on
frankie from dublin is guest playing guitar
and his languid flourishes stretch across the music nicely
the next track is the dumb rocker called i cant let it go
written pre-ayahuasca but eerily presentiment
oh my little saviour
on her good behaviour
all he things she gave ya
now you cant let it go
i wanna get up
i wanna get off
i wanna get out
but i cant let it go...
next up is
anchorage
a dark twisted song full of winter n turmoil
weird lyrics ive written too:
the bars are all closed today lady
its a long way down to the middle of town
i'd hate to see you break your crown...
and then later im shouting
i'll slap it out of you
i'll slap it out of you
peter plays 2 bass guitars
im playing neil youngy stuff n piano
tims added some mellotron
its roiling n boiling stuff
the 4th track
is a sad and pretty song
tim says this is my fave but i like em all
and have listened to them with almost fresh ears
we have dinner then
which consists of four pieces of toast
2 vegemite
2 peanut butter
its all i ate all day 'cept for a packet of crisps
then in 2 hours we do a song called pangaea
it was really cool
and im rather happy with it
but it needs loadsa work
needs mwp n pk to play on it some more
still aint heard shriek soundtrack
but tp assures me its something special
long drive home
listen to george again
home to bed
everyone sleepy
early night
today=chrch rehearsal
oh dear
i hate fucking rehearsing!
me n my little woofle go out early
for walky talky
i dress the woofle in the doodles clothes
and she looks pretty good considering shes 2
and theyre 8
we go outside she says cold
she says wind
little consolation of my olde age :
darling little woofle
wont you take a walk with me
(little woofle take a walk with me)
cmon woofle think how happy baby
we could be
(little woofle if you walked with me)....
this family has a lot of songs we sing
about doing everyday things
(usually written by moi...of course)
we have
tell me who
(who who who)
who is yer favourite doodle
(who who who who)
who is yer favourite doodle
(who who who who)
who is yer doodle now
wa wa wa wa wa wa wa wah
oh do you like that little starr?
(i love to drive her in my car)
oh do you like that biggle childe?
(well her charms just drive me wild)
please tell me who....
both the woofle song n the fave doodle song
set to bona fide great 50s chord progressions
and catchy melodies that stick in your head
the family all joins in (including twillies if theyre here)
singing backing vox, taking turns with lead vox
of course then theres
the gotta have doodles song
which is a frank sinatra-y affair
you gotta have....doodles
you gotta have....doodles
cos doodles
are oodles
of fun
(fingersnap, fingersnap)
yeah!
(the yeah! whispered by the woofle like a real jazz cat)
anyway
we're walking down street singing the woofle song
woofle n i grokking north bond-eyes incredible profusion of flowers
i need look no further than this
for evidence of god
(evidence of god...the idea is ludicrous)
here are pure white frangis
here are some with lovely lemon yellow tinges
here are some practically the most delicate pink you ever saw
here are hibiscus flowers with various subtle n gaudy hues
cactii with bulging pink n purple flowers
passionfruit tree flowers
the weeds all flower too
and the elephant ears ferns n boston ferns n money trees
i think of going n visiting michael h
who is as lovely a bloke as you could meet
but it is good friday before 11
then there he is walking down the street
larger than life
he must be a nice guy cos the woofle
leans outta my arms
to plant a big wet woofley kiss
on his stubbly face
im driving over to teepees
to work on new chrch album
on the way there
i visit my friend
who doesnt seem to wake up
as i sit holding his hand
oh he was in a deep restful place
and of course
i did not resent him his near absence
he was in a much nicer room today
some scented candles were burning
and brian enos music for airports tinkled almost silently
i talk to him about eno
about dylan n harrison
who my friend reminds me of
i talk to him about what i believe
sometimes he gently squeezes my hand n moves
ever so slightly
when i leave
and the next of his many friends n family come in
he opens his eye a little
gives me a sleepy grin for a miilisecond
i cant stop thinking about him
i meet his mum n dad who are the loveliest people
i go out into the rain n wind
i walk across a park in darlinghurst
im crying my heart out
and i need to have a piss
i just walk up to tree
and stand there
in the middle of sydney
peeing and weeping
no one around at all
so no indecent exposure charges yet
on the otherhand it hasnt made my career take off
a la bill wyman n stones...
also
was supposed to be in paper yesterday in fridays metro section
as it was good friday
there was no metro n next friday is too late for my gig
gulp! have i fallen through the cracks again????
have a safe drive to tims
through kings cross william st
into sydney
out the otherside
over anzac bridge
(we used to call it madonnas bra)
up past rozelle
balmain
drummoyne
over gladesville bridge
into ryde
east ryde
putney
i listen to brainwashed by george harrison
his last album
its a beauty too
a beautiful reading from "how to know god"
by the indian sage patanjali
segues into the last song
the soul doesnt love
the soul is love
the soul doesnt exist
it is existence, itself
then at the end of the song
george chants and the lovely indian-ish music returns
suddenly a great comfort fills me
i think of all the good people waiting on "the otherside"
grant n george
my dad
jeff buckley
maybe soon my friend
oh if only these guys will appear to show me the ropes
when i turn up in that peaceful place
anyway down i go tims drive
hes pottering round in his studio
soldering leads or whatever it is
we listen to the 4 songs so far completed with vox
the 1st is a stately piano driven progression
we have put almost choral-like voices on
frankie from dublin is guest playing guitar
and his languid flourishes stretch across the music nicely
the next track is the dumb rocker called i cant let it go
written pre-ayahuasca but eerily presentiment
oh my little saviour
on her good behaviour
all he things she gave ya
now you cant let it go
i wanna get up
i wanna get off
i wanna get out
but i cant let it go...
next up is
anchorage
a dark twisted song full of winter n turmoil
weird lyrics ive written too:
the bars are all closed today lady
its a long way down to the middle of town
i'd hate to see you break your crown...
and then later im shouting
i'll slap it out of you
i'll slap it out of you
peter plays 2 bass guitars
im playing neil youngy stuff n piano
tims added some mellotron
its roiling n boiling stuff
the 4th track
is a sad and pretty song
tim says this is my fave but i like em all
and have listened to them with almost fresh ears
we have dinner then
which consists of four pieces of toast
2 vegemite
2 peanut butter
its all i ate all day 'cept for a packet of crisps
then in 2 hours we do a song called pangaea
it was really cool
and im rather happy with it
but it needs loadsa work
needs mwp n pk to play on it some more
still aint heard shriek soundtrack
but tp assures me its something special
long drive home
listen to george again
home to bed
everyone sleepy
early night
today=chrch rehearsal
oh dear
i hate fucking rehearsing!
Friday, March 21, 2008
good friday 2008
" like a new cybernetic code
hacking the logic of a closed system,
christs parables break open ordinary sense
to introduce paradoxes that subvert syntactical logic '
and
" unfortunately he did not save our souls through the crucifixion.
instead, he showed us the path -
a template for selfless action that can be internalised and followed
if we make the free choice to evolve"
both quotes from 2012 by daniel pinchbeck
jesus
its good friday
the day a bunch of ignorant villains
nailed up a guy to a wooden cross
and left him to die in agony
how many good men have come n gone
their words of emancipation and connection
disregarded, misinterpreted?
the meek aint inherited the earth...yet
its still being run by loads of proud idiots
using her up
killing us off
most so called christians who never read
the fucking new testament with both their ears open
or even read it at all
the heroes among us
they show us the way
(my brave friend in hospital)
humanity
yeah be proud of yerself
dreaming up your rationalisations
you have butchered tortured and ruined
because of them
we told ourselves lies
and we found em easy to believe
and we brutalised n behaved inhumanely
inhumane n inhuman
jesus
i dont need to catalogue it all again
have a look at hiroshima n nagasaki
have a look at belsen
have a look at whaling
have a look at inquisitions
have a look at crusades
have a look at vlad the impaler
n nero n caligula
the israelites n babylonians
jesus
are we capable of cruelty and unimaginable horror
on gigantic scales or what?
jesus, did we listen?
jesus, does an idiot like georgie bush
really think he is somehow born again in your name?
how can one violent thing be done in your name
and the irony of it not blast em sprawling?
how is there so much wilful ignorance
concocted and laid at your feet?
the catholic church with their dark secrets
their midnight mass and the countless
bent priests playing with boys
their ritual n palaver n self aggrandizement
the very opposite of christs simplicity n humility
he would despise it
he would despise bush
he would despise the southern fundamentalist tv evangelists
in some sick nightmare of a world
the sages n seers words n prophecies
are twisted into self serving bullshit sermons
exhorting all the most superstitious claptrap
christ would hate assault weapons
christ would weep at biological warfare
christ would sob at guantanomo fucking bay(or whatever is called)
christ would rail against deforestation n renditioning
and persecutions n executions
and our unbelievably INHUMAN treatment of the beasts
christ would not believe that we rip their claws n horns n teeth
n tails n feathers n fins off in a bloodthirsty dimmed haze..
could christ believe that weve even finally buggered up the weather
(boys n girls the fun is just starting)
i urge you
today
to read the four gospels
read them with an open heart
dont fucking quibble with this or that
or even me
let that message sink in
dont look for the contradictions
dont mis quote or partially quote
a phrase or 2 which is seemingly at odds
why?
you aint gonna change my mind
was he the son of god?
aint we all?
was he the son of man?
yes
he was a hero
he did things like a real man
he preached love n got himself crucified
well aint that just like this earth...?
what gives, fiendss?
hey
i aint no christian preacher
hey you sophisticated smartass
sitting at yer computer
saying oh no killer
dont try n sell me jesus again
hey you dull n unimaginative knuckleheads
cant see the woods for the trees
hey gunslinger
hey war presidents
hey fascists
hey popes
hey bishops n field marshalls
hey adolf n cheney n queen victoria
hey tobacco n oil companies
hey mcdonalds n the fuckin" colonel
hey ku klux klan (oooh your costumes are so "bad")
hey taliban n al-queda
hey idi amin hey slobbydan milosovich
you guys had yer chance
look where we are
weve almost fucked up our own dear planet
the amazon almost gone
for what
big macs?
american n australian native peoples...almost gone
theres like 50 snow leopards left
the islands in the pacific going under
in 10 years.. (10 years...!!!!)
no more fish in sea
no more ozone
no compassion
no love
no respect
cmon
people now
smile on your brother
everybody get together
try to love one another right now...
todd said
i'd rather die by a dream
than live by a lie...
lets be courageous
lets change ourselves
look at me
it can be done
evolve
evolve now
into what we all could have been
start today
start here
lets change this world
for the better
whatever that means
stop thinking
just
do it!
hacking the logic of a closed system,
christs parables break open ordinary sense
to introduce paradoxes that subvert syntactical logic '
and
" unfortunately he did not save our souls through the crucifixion.
instead, he showed us the path -
a template for selfless action that can be internalised and followed
if we make the free choice to evolve"
both quotes from 2012 by daniel pinchbeck
jesus
its good friday
the day a bunch of ignorant villains
nailed up a guy to a wooden cross
and left him to die in agony
how many good men have come n gone
their words of emancipation and connection
disregarded, misinterpreted?
the meek aint inherited the earth...yet
its still being run by loads of proud idiots
using her up
killing us off
most so called christians who never read
the fucking new testament with both their ears open
or even read it at all
the heroes among us
they show us the way
(my brave friend in hospital)
humanity
yeah be proud of yerself
dreaming up your rationalisations
you have butchered tortured and ruined
because of them
we told ourselves lies
and we found em easy to believe
and we brutalised n behaved inhumanely
inhumane n inhuman
jesus
i dont need to catalogue it all again
have a look at hiroshima n nagasaki
have a look at belsen
have a look at whaling
have a look at inquisitions
have a look at crusades
have a look at vlad the impaler
n nero n caligula
the israelites n babylonians
jesus
are we capable of cruelty and unimaginable horror
on gigantic scales or what?
jesus, did we listen?
jesus, does an idiot like georgie bush
really think he is somehow born again in your name?
how can one violent thing be done in your name
and the irony of it not blast em sprawling?
how is there so much wilful ignorance
concocted and laid at your feet?
the catholic church with their dark secrets
their midnight mass and the countless
bent priests playing with boys
their ritual n palaver n self aggrandizement
the very opposite of christs simplicity n humility
he would despise it
he would despise bush
he would despise the southern fundamentalist tv evangelists
in some sick nightmare of a world
the sages n seers words n prophecies
are twisted into self serving bullshit sermons
exhorting all the most superstitious claptrap
christ would hate assault weapons
christ would weep at biological warfare
christ would sob at guantanomo fucking bay(or whatever is called)
christ would rail against deforestation n renditioning
and persecutions n executions
and our unbelievably INHUMAN treatment of the beasts
christ would not believe that we rip their claws n horns n teeth
n tails n feathers n fins off in a bloodthirsty dimmed haze..
could christ believe that weve even finally buggered up the weather
(boys n girls the fun is just starting)
i urge you
today
to read the four gospels
read them with an open heart
dont fucking quibble with this or that
or even me
let that message sink in
dont look for the contradictions
dont mis quote or partially quote
a phrase or 2 which is seemingly at odds
why?
you aint gonna change my mind
was he the son of god?
aint we all?
was he the son of man?
yes
he was a hero
he did things like a real man
he preached love n got himself crucified
well aint that just like this earth...?
what gives, fiendss?
hey
i aint no christian preacher
hey you sophisticated smartass
sitting at yer computer
saying oh no killer
dont try n sell me jesus again
hey you dull n unimaginative knuckleheads
cant see the woods for the trees
hey gunslinger
hey war presidents
hey fascists
hey popes
hey bishops n field marshalls
hey adolf n cheney n queen victoria
hey tobacco n oil companies
hey mcdonalds n the fuckin" colonel
hey ku klux klan (oooh your costumes are so "bad")
hey taliban n al-queda
hey idi amin hey slobbydan milosovich
you guys had yer chance
look where we are
weve almost fucked up our own dear planet
the amazon almost gone
for what
big macs?
american n australian native peoples...almost gone
theres like 50 snow leopards left
the islands in the pacific going under
in 10 years.. (10 years...!!!!)
no more fish in sea
no more ozone
no compassion
no love
no respect
cmon
people now
smile on your brother
everybody get together
try to love one another right now...
todd said
i'd rather die by a dream
than live by a lie...
lets be courageous
lets change ourselves
look at me
it can be done
evolve
evolve now
into what we all could have been
start today
start here
lets change this world
for the better
whatever that means
stop thinking
just
do it!
Thursday, March 20, 2008
handy tips and shortcuts
listening to woven hand n ultima vez
(thanks markus)
always knew the banjo could be utilised usefully
outside its bluegrass thing...
yesterday
visited a friend in hospital
if youre not in hospital
thank your lucky starrs
my friend continuing to show incredible grace
in the face of adversity
and im not ashamed to say i love him
and my heart was at once battered to see him as he was
and filled with incredible pride to know this geezer at all
absolutely one in a million
and i want to scream out to god
YOU GOT THE WRONG GUY!
everything else seems trivial in the face of that
however i will persist
though all my usual petty ambitions seem pathetic just now
also another dear friend shows up at hospital yesterday
coming in from a long way to see our mate
sad to see him under these conditions
im all confused about everything fiendss
this has shaken me to the very core
and of course
an incessant voice inside me
saying
kilbey you could do something
if you could only muster up whatever it will take..
but my doubt and sorrow prevents me from ever
knowing what this could be
if it even exists at all...
my dad had a kind of calming effect on people
which i wish i could say i have too
but i dont...unless its scarlet
..and not even always then...
my way with words often deserts me
just when you think i'd be needing it the most
and i often say the wrong things despite everything
tomorrow im in the smh metro questionaire
its amazing how i/the church still get serious coverage
in the big papers
ive just done similar one for melbs the age
different questions of course
one question said who do you admire most in this world
i actually wanted to say my friend whos ill
but they probably cut the answers that dont have pizazz
plus you got the anonymity factor as well
but still its nice to get in the real papers now n then
our media "clout" (ha ha more like a limp slap)
has always been disproportianately bigger
than our actual status would seem to warrant
ie it seems people want me in their papers
on their radio
(y'all musta missed that one on abc 2 weeks back!)
and on their tv
cos i been asked onto a certain show
n this time i said yes ok i will
the rent got put up yesterday
so i figger i could use some more x-pose-yah
and its pop-you-lah show
so
there ya go
other than that
i always seem to be in some vague conflict with someone
and its no different now
something in me brings out the worst in most people
which only martin krall in stockholm
and ricki ticki
and usually timmy p
can resist
everybody else is a bit upset with me over something
even if its the guy sitting next to me on a bus
i seem to imply a lot of things i dont mean to
old without much wisdom
thats a curse isnt it?
today im having acupuncture for my bad back
and still waiting for my bi annual royalties to arrive
the mofos hang onto it for as long as they can
no wonder they are loathed n the business is imploding
i also note with some weary inevitability
that when i write something i think is really good
i get hardly any comments
but if i wrote about this record or that record
everyones suddenly interested
of course thats only natural
but still......
it hurts to think
most of ya
are sitting round patiently
hoping im gonna get onto
the good bits soon....
(thanks markus)
always knew the banjo could be utilised usefully
outside its bluegrass thing...
yesterday
visited a friend in hospital
if youre not in hospital
thank your lucky starrs
my friend continuing to show incredible grace
in the face of adversity
and im not ashamed to say i love him
and my heart was at once battered to see him as he was
and filled with incredible pride to know this geezer at all
absolutely one in a million
and i want to scream out to god
YOU GOT THE WRONG GUY!
everything else seems trivial in the face of that
however i will persist
though all my usual petty ambitions seem pathetic just now
also another dear friend shows up at hospital yesterday
coming in from a long way to see our mate
sad to see him under these conditions
im all confused about everything fiendss
this has shaken me to the very core
and of course
an incessant voice inside me
saying
kilbey you could do something
if you could only muster up whatever it will take..
but my doubt and sorrow prevents me from ever
knowing what this could be
if it even exists at all...
my dad had a kind of calming effect on people
which i wish i could say i have too
but i dont...unless its scarlet
..and not even always then...
my way with words often deserts me
just when you think i'd be needing it the most
and i often say the wrong things despite everything
tomorrow im in the smh metro questionaire
its amazing how i/the church still get serious coverage
in the big papers
ive just done similar one for melbs the age
different questions of course
one question said who do you admire most in this world
i actually wanted to say my friend whos ill
but they probably cut the answers that dont have pizazz
plus you got the anonymity factor as well
but still its nice to get in the real papers now n then
our media "clout" (ha ha more like a limp slap)
has always been disproportianately bigger
than our actual status would seem to warrant
ie it seems people want me in their papers
on their radio
(y'all musta missed that one on abc 2 weeks back!)
and on their tv
cos i been asked onto a certain show
n this time i said yes ok i will
the rent got put up yesterday
so i figger i could use some more x-pose-yah
and its pop-you-lah show
so
there ya go
other than that
i always seem to be in some vague conflict with someone
and its no different now
something in me brings out the worst in most people
which only martin krall in stockholm
and ricki ticki
and usually timmy p
can resist
everybody else is a bit upset with me over something
even if its the guy sitting next to me on a bus
i seem to imply a lot of things i dont mean to
old without much wisdom
thats a curse isnt it?
today im having acupuncture for my bad back
and still waiting for my bi annual royalties to arrive
the mofos hang onto it for as long as they can
no wonder they are loathed n the business is imploding
i also note with some weary inevitability
that when i write something i think is really good
i get hardly any comments
but if i wrote about this record or that record
everyones suddenly interested
of course thats only natural
but still......
it hurts to think
most of ya
are sitting round patiently
hoping im gonna get onto
the good bits soon....
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
why killer thinks things are good n bad
now i checked new orders "best of" out hard
yesterday
after all these were they guys that gave us atmosphere...
we used to (i used to)
play atmosphere over n over n over
during early mansfield st days
wow what a song
everything about it blew my tiny mind
the belltrees in sibilant echo
the fucking bass line
the tom tom drumming
who else was playing drums like that?
the guitar n keys...perfect
so
i knew i needed to check new order out more carefully
i have all their albums on cd here
power corruption n lies is pretty good
but i love get ready
jesus when the guitar kicks in in the beginning of crystal....
a lot of tracks musically on here have joy div spirit
and
you gotta admire the way n.o. were ready to go for new sounds
creating their own trademark thing
totally diff to jd n everyone else
i love blue monday
i love the song where he says
why dont you piss off?
however
listening to "best of"
i detected some real shockers
ie shell shock
thieves like us
vanishing point
run 2
oh god
a whole load of em
insipid awful tripe
man you gotta slap yerself round the face n say
these are the guys who did in a lonely place?
and its all about intent n trying
they are the qualities that count (to me)
what is the intent behind the thing?
what were new order thinking
when they did some of this?
hooky is reduced to pretty little melodies
over the most embarrassing little songs
and the most awful lyrics often about "love"
squeaking out cliche platitudes
these songs have no "love" in them however
they werent trying
and the intent was like a can of soups intent
contrast this to the good stuff
where you can feel the creative convulsion
that spewed forth most of j.d. n the good n o
thats why i talk about gaf as a gaffe
whats its intent...?
i dunno
its pretty much a church can of soup
contrasted to the power of most of starfish
and the opiated grandeur of p=a
its a lull
the band becalmed in a miasma of indecision
n
"i dont cares"
i'm glad if you like it...i really am
i dont decry you or your taste or loyalty
or expertise
music is a personal matter
i love some strange records
i just do
even if youre not supposed to
i still do
so im using gaf as a kinda litmus test
of intent n trying
you see on the church records
for trying you had to give me 8 or 9 outta 10
i was trying
boy was i trying
on heyday i was trying so hard
the paisley all fell off my shirt
starfish i was trying
no knucklehead, the producers didnt create utmw
and no ploog didnt play on it
but utmw had intent n trying on it
it was done with love, my friends
but gaf...
suddenly
who cares
i put all my trying n intent into remindlessness
yeah
i hate drum machines mostly
it was all i had in my bedroom studio...
dont stop me enjoying sisters of mercy or cocteau twins
so shut up about drum machines
it was that or nothin'
but all my best was going into remindlessness
thats a record with some love in it
all i had left for gaf
was kilbey running on autopilot
knocking out metropolises
which is a good exercise in songwriting
it has all the elements
but
what were trying to do...?
have a hit
what was its intent?
make money n keep arista happy
did it have love?
not really...it had skill n craft..but no real love
(peter k may deny this...maybe he put some love in...)
it was devoid of whatever starfish was brimming in
just when we needed to make a record with love
we burped out gaf
yeah ploogy didnt play on most of it
but he had no love for it either
at least we kept a modicum of interest in it
he found the church n our music had left him non-plussed
peter says i was too hard on him all the time
yeah thats true i guess
specially when he deliberately wasnt trying
which was most of the time towards the end
but also my ascerbic tongue wore him down
we had an argument (over all things) divvying up some pot
he said something like (paraphrasing here, folks)
i wish that for just one time you could stand inside my shoes
you know what a drag it is to see you
i thought
ok my mate
your performance dont justify this fuckin' cheek
you see if marty or peter said that
i'd have to go
jesus thats harsh
but youre kinda indispensible
so i guess being good gives ya more leeway to be rude
that was how i saw it then
which is why i was so rude i guess
good= ruder i shoulda called it
but ploog by this stage had no interest whatsoever
in playing drums in the church
or even playing drums full stop
which is very sad
cos he had just gotten better n better
since he joined
and we HAD had some good times together
but lotsa things came between us
however he didnt even bother turning up
even when renivited to come down n give it a try
he still remained in la getting paid n a car
and apt in hollyfuckingwood
waddy wachtel did most of it on a drum machine
he actually tried to use richards parts from the demos
which are much better than album
i did all bass bits to drum machine
while waddy watched n listened like a hawk
the record is "perfect" from the ground up
but it sucks
yeah grind coulda been a good song
yeah pharaoh or pharoah is ok
at least ploogys on that one
but
its my own contribution
my own lack of caring n trying
even on autopilot im never rubbish
my skill n craft dont desert cos theres no love...
so yeah
there you have it
people who know what to do
doing it but without the love of previous or next record
at every stage of the process...it was loveless
like playing chess with someone whos letting you win
or someones empty flattery
or telephone sex with robot
or those corn chips with no calories
or sugar free gum
or entertainment channel
or smoking tea leaves
or whatever
no love
no trying
intent to sell but remain innocuous
dont push boundaries
dont rock the boat
dont allow extreme beauty or ugliness
dont tell the truth
not dedicated to the glory of god
not containing flashes of pure brilliance
no experimentation
as i said the churchs worst
still better than mosts best
i mean gaf aint a real stinker alongside
(insert yer most abhorred rubbish here)
just like new order still better than heart or britney
or boybands or whatever
but
we
demand more
we should
i wont ever letcha down that bad again
remember that!
i'm always trying
my intent is to fucking blow you away
its always got lotsa love
i may fail
i may fail often
but im trying
i wasnt with gaf
i know it
you know it
we all knew it then
even if we only felt it
thats why we lost momentum
stalled
and
dived
no love
no love
no love
yesterday
after all these were they guys that gave us atmosphere...
we used to (i used to)
play atmosphere over n over n over
during early mansfield st days
wow what a song
everything about it blew my tiny mind
the belltrees in sibilant echo
the fucking bass line
the tom tom drumming
who else was playing drums like that?
the guitar n keys...perfect
so
i knew i needed to check new order out more carefully
i have all their albums on cd here
power corruption n lies is pretty good
but i love get ready
jesus when the guitar kicks in in the beginning of crystal....
a lot of tracks musically on here have joy div spirit
and
you gotta admire the way n.o. were ready to go for new sounds
creating their own trademark thing
totally diff to jd n everyone else
i love blue monday
i love the song where he says
why dont you piss off?
however
listening to "best of"
i detected some real shockers
ie shell shock
thieves like us
vanishing point
run 2
oh god
a whole load of em
insipid awful tripe
man you gotta slap yerself round the face n say
these are the guys who did in a lonely place?
and its all about intent n trying
they are the qualities that count (to me)
what is the intent behind the thing?
what were new order thinking
when they did some of this?
hooky is reduced to pretty little melodies
over the most embarrassing little songs
and the most awful lyrics often about "love"
squeaking out cliche platitudes
these songs have no "love" in them however
they werent trying
and the intent was like a can of soups intent
contrast this to the good stuff
where you can feel the creative convulsion
that spewed forth most of j.d. n the good n o
thats why i talk about gaf as a gaffe
whats its intent...?
i dunno
its pretty much a church can of soup
contrasted to the power of most of starfish
and the opiated grandeur of p=a
its a lull
the band becalmed in a miasma of indecision
n
"i dont cares"
i'm glad if you like it...i really am
i dont decry you or your taste or loyalty
or expertise
music is a personal matter
i love some strange records
i just do
even if youre not supposed to
i still do
so im using gaf as a kinda litmus test
of intent n trying
you see on the church records
for trying you had to give me 8 or 9 outta 10
i was trying
boy was i trying
on heyday i was trying so hard
the paisley all fell off my shirt
starfish i was trying
no knucklehead, the producers didnt create utmw
and no ploog didnt play on it
but utmw had intent n trying on it
it was done with love, my friends
but gaf...
suddenly
who cares
i put all my trying n intent into remindlessness
yeah
i hate drum machines mostly
it was all i had in my bedroom studio...
dont stop me enjoying sisters of mercy or cocteau twins
so shut up about drum machines
it was that or nothin'
but all my best was going into remindlessness
thats a record with some love in it
all i had left for gaf
was kilbey running on autopilot
knocking out metropolises
which is a good exercise in songwriting
it has all the elements
but
what were trying to do...?
have a hit
what was its intent?
make money n keep arista happy
did it have love?
not really...it had skill n craft..but no real love
(peter k may deny this...maybe he put some love in...)
it was devoid of whatever starfish was brimming in
just when we needed to make a record with love
we burped out gaf
yeah ploogy didnt play on most of it
but he had no love for it either
at least we kept a modicum of interest in it
he found the church n our music had left him non-plussed
peter says i was too hard on him all the time
yeah thats true i guess
specially when he deliberately wasnt trying
which was most of the time towards the end
but also my ascerbic tongue wore him down
we had an argument (over all things) divvying up some pot
he said something like (paraphrasing here, folks)
i wish that for just one time you could stand inside my shoes
you know what a drag it is to see you
i thought
ok my mate
your performance dont justify this fuckin' cheek
you see if marty or peter said that
i'd have to go
jesus thats harsh
but youre kinda indispensible
so i guess being good gives ya more leeway to be rude
that was how i saw it then
which is why i was so rude i guess
good= ruder i shoulda called it
but ploog by this stage had no interest whatsoever
in playing drums in the church
or even playing drums full stop
which is very sad
cos he had just gotten better n better
since he joined
and we HAD had some good times together
but lotsa things came between us
however he didnt even bother turning up
even when renivited to come down n give it a try
he still remained in la getting paid n a car
and apt in hollyfuckingwood
waddy wachtel did most of it on a drum machine
he actually tried to use richards parts from the demos
which are much better than album
i did all bass bits to drum machine
while waddy watched n listened like a hawk
the record is "perfect" from the ground up
but it sucks
yeah grind coulda been a good song
yeah pharaoh or pharoah is ok
at least ploogys on that one
but
its my own contribution
my own lack of caring n trying
even on autopilot im never rubbish
my skill n craft dont desert cos theres no love...
so yeah
there you have it
people who know what to do
doing it but without the love of previous or next record
at every stage of the process...it was loveless
like playing chess with someone whos letting you win
or someones empty flattery
or telephone sex with robot
or those corn chips with no calories
or sugar free gum
or entertainment channel
or smoking tea leaves
or whatever
no love
no trying
intent to sell but remain innocuous
dont push boundaries
dont rock the boat
dont allow extreme beauty or ugliness
dont tell the truth
not dedicated to the glory of god
not containing flashes of pure brilliance
no experimentation
as i said the churchs worst
still better than mosts best
i mean gaf aint a real stinker alongside
(insert yer most abhorred rubbish here)
just like new order still better than heart or britney
or boybands or whatever
but
we
demand more
we should
i wont ever letcha down that bad again
remember that!
i'm always trying
my intent is to fucking blow you away
its always got lotsa love
i may fail
i may fail often
but im trying
i wasnt with gaf
i know it
you know it
we all knew it then
even if we only felt it
thats why we lost momentum
stalled
and
dived
no love
no love
no love
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
no joy
quite a terrible day
someone i know very very ill
but no longer a blogging matter....
then last night watch "control"
the film about ian curtis
strange
sam riley looks like curtis
only better looking i guess
he wouldnae have even been born when ian hung himself
back in 1980
anton corbijns black n white is just like his photos
moody stark etc
manchester seems bleak.....(seems?)
the other guys are cartoony versions of themselves
hooky is aggressive
barney is a bit wimpy
stephen is silent for the most part
rob gretton is foul mouthed manager
tony wilson is suave n slightly posh
etc
but.....
um
it doesnt ever amount to anything
yeah ian had epilepsy
yeah ian had a wife n a girlfriend
but....
i dunno
maybe ians narrow shoulders werent big enough
to hang a 2 hour movie off of
sam riley does a great ian when hes singing n performing
those strange movements when things really got going
but
in the end
ian hangs himself
(you keep hoping he wont...
that the film will re-write history
but it cant....n it doesnt..!)
it seems like youve just been through
a load of black n white nothing
it was all there
but for me
it failed to coalesce into a decent film
yes
i love joy division
its impossible to overestimate their importance
the words n singing
the drumming
the bass playing
the guitar
the production n aesthetic
all were breathtakingly original in their day
curtis was a rivetting performer
he was truly unlike anybody else
ok
heres a little quibble for trainspotters
in the beginning of the film
curtis is shown listening to drive in saturday from aladin sane
by david bowie
but the needle is on the second last track of the record
whereas i remember d.i.s. being 1st or 2nd on the vinyl...
gotcha!
by the way
i think interpol are rubbish (yer gotta be kidding me)
and some of new orders stuff has been brilliant
(get ready for example)
but some of the stuff from the eighties
with syn-drums was pure schlock
and barneys lyrics and singing
often leave a LOT to be desired
he is no ian curtis thats fer sure
sometimes he gets away with it
sometimes
(nk just bought the best of new order)
its amateur hour n laughably outta tune
hooky remains one of the greatest bass players of all time
and unknown pleasures n closer are masterpieces forever
meanwhile....
the church play a place on nsws central coast on sunday
that they wont be making a doco about
and highly unlikely to reach legendary status
such is life n death
is it better to burn out than to rust?
anyway
in 1990
the church were touring europe
promoting the abysmal gold afternoon fix record
losing 200 grande but still getting commissioned by
our loathesome greasy manager
who happened to fix us up
with his latest brainchild
to open up for us
a cuban rock band called nuclear valdez
who were remarkably unremarkable
one of their roadies
claimed to have worked for joy div
when he found out i was a huge fan he cornered me
at a bar in munich
and said in an orrible bleeding whining voice
that sounded like someone from coronation street
on ritalin
"i'll tell you the fuckin' joy division story, kilbey
once there was 4 twats who liked to drink a lotta lager
n get pissed
then one of em necked hisself
and then there were 3 twats
who liked to drink a lot of lager n get pissed..
end of fookin' story...!"
anton corbijn shoulda been there
the guy could helped him make 'is fookin' film
kilbey...over n out
someone i know very very ill
but no longer a blogging matter....
then last night watch "control"
the film about ian curtis
strange
sam riley looks like curtis
only better looking i guess
he wouldnae have even been born when ian hung himself
back in 1980
anton corbijns black n white is just like his photos
moody stark etc
manchester seems bleak.....(seems?)
the other guys are cartoony versions of themselves
hooky is aggressive
barney is a bit wimpy
stephen is silent for the most part
rob gretton is foul mouthed manager
tony wilson is suave n slightly posh
etc
but.....
um
it doesnt ever amount to anything
yeah ian had epilepsy
yeah ian had a wife n a girlfriend
but....
i dunno
maybe ians narrow shoulders werent big enough
to hang a 2 hour movie off of
sam riley does a great ian when hes singing n performing
those strange movements when things really got going
but
in the end
ian hangs himself
(you keep hoping he wont...
that the film will re-write history
but it cant....n it doesnt..!)
it seems like youve just been through
a load of black n white nothing
it was all there
but for me
it failed to coalesce into a decent film
yes
i love joy division
its impossible to overestimate their importance
the words n singing
the drumming
the bass playing
the guitar
the production n aesthetic
all were breathtakingly original in their day
curtis was a rivetting performer
he was truly unlike anybody else
ok
heres a little quibble for trainspotters
in the beginning of the film
curtis is shown listening to drive in saturday from aladin sane
by david bowie
but the needle is on the second last track of the record
whereas i remember d.i.s. being 1st or 2nd on the vinyl...
gotcha!
by the way
i think interpol are rubbish (yer gotta be kidding me)
and some of new orders stuff has been brilliant
(get ready for example)
but some of the stuff from the eighties
with syn-drums was pure schlock
and barneys lyrics and singing
often leave a LOT to be desired
he is no ian curtis thats fer sure
sometimes he gets away with it
sometimes
(nk just bought the best of new order)
its amateur hour n laughably outta tune
hooky remains one of the greatest bass players of all time
and unknown pleasures n closer are masterpieces forever
meanwhile....
the church play a place on nsws central coast on sunday
that they wont be making a doco about
and highly unlikely to reach legendary status
such is life n death
is it better to burn out than to rust?
anyway
in 1990
the church were touring europe
promoting the abysmal gold afternoon fix record
losing 200 grande but still getting commissioned by
our loathesome greasy manager
who happened to fix us up
with his latest brainchild
to open up for us
a cuban rock band called nuclear valdez
who were remarkably unremarkable
one of their roadies
claimed to have worked for joy div
when he found out i was a huge fan he cornered me
at a bar in munich
and said in an orrible bleeding whining voice
that sounded like someone from coronation street
on ritalin
"i'll tell you the fuckin' joy division story, kilbey
once there was 4 twats who liked to drink a lotta lager
n get pissed
then one of em necked hisself
and then there were 3 twats
who liked to drink a lot of lager n get pissed..
end of fookin' story...!"
anton corbijn shoulda been there
the guy could helped him make 'is fookin' film
kilbey...over n out
Monday, March 17, 2008
dream of david mccomb
strange dream
dreaming of dave mccomb
long detailed
we're gonna make a record together
something vaguely protesting in my mind
but but but
nk is in dream with me
we turn up to studio
its like an olde warehouse
lots of machinery n contraptions
things in the way
the engineer does most of the talking
the place is dark uncomfortable
they even have a bed for us to sleep in
but sometimes theres others in there too
david seems elusive
i listen to some of the songs hes recorded
the songs are flat
the performance is wooden
everything seems to take hours n hours
i get lost just entering n exiting the room
a maze of olde bits of junk n stuff
people wandering round
i dont know whats going on
im trying to write n record but its all too hard
theres someone in our bed when we want to sleep
david just sometimes sits there
my mind nagging me....not right, not right
where is davids spark
where are the songs
my dream refuses to re animate him
the engineer seems to be the dreams apologist
he keeps trying to explain why everything is the way it is
he says that we gonna do a gig too
i go outside
people are lined up to see us play
i feel troubled by this
i walk up the line to see who they are
ive got a horrible pair of huge boots my pants are tucked into
uh oh..are these davids..?
the people in the line are rude or ignore me
some lady-boy character is twirling a baton expertly
you should try putting that skill into playing a guitar i say
the lady-boy sneers
an old guy makes some crack about me
i stop to stare at him
but he keeps up the cheek
its all going wrong
back at the gig/studio/factory
theyre letting in kids in school uniforms n everything
davids just sitting there mute
the spin doctor engineer rabbits on ten to the dozen
someones sleeping in our bed
and we're so tired
i wake up mercifully
scarlets in our bed
and shes grabbing onto me in her sleep
the thin grey light of dawn fills our room
the blinds lightly clacking against each other
last night i stood on a piece of glass
and then twisted before i knew what happened
nk pulls out bloody shard
today my foots throbbing
im one million emails behind
people to contact
things to arrange
still waiting for march royalties to come in
the bastards hold on as long as they can
to squeeze the extra interest out
ah weariness
monday
here we go.....
dreaming of dave mccomb
long detailed
we're gonna make a record together
something vaguely protesting in my mind
but but but
nk is in dream with me
we turn up to studio
its like an olde warehouse
lots of machinery n contraptions
things in the way
the engineer does most of the talking
the place is dark uncomfortable
they even have a bed for us to sleep in
but sometimes theres others in there too
david seems elusive
i listen to some of the songs hes recorded
the songs are flat
the performance is wooden
everything seems to take hours n hours
i get lost just entering n exiting the room
a maze of olde bits of junk n stuff
people wandering round
i dont know whats going on
im trying to write n record but its all too hard
theres someone in our bed when we want to sleep
david just sometimes sits there
my mind nagging me....not right, not right
where is davids spark
where are the songs
my dream refuses to re animate him
the engineer seems to be the dreams apologist
he keeps trying to explain why everything is the way it is
he says that we gonna do a gig too
i go outside
people are lined up to see us play
i feel troubled by this
i walk up the line to see who they are
ive got a horrible pair of huge boots my pants are tucked into
uh oh..are these davids..?
the people in the line are rude or ignore me
some lady-boy character is twirling a baton expertly
you should try putting that skill into playing a guitar i say
the lady-boy sneers
an old guy makes some crack about me
i stop to stare at him
but he keeps up the cheek
its all going wrong
back at the gig/studio/factory
theyre letting in kids in school uniforms n everything
davids just sitting there mute
the spin doctor engineer rabbits on ten to the dozen
someones sleeping in our bed
and we're so tired
i wake up mercifully
scarlets in our bed
and shes grabbing onto me in her sleep
the thin grey light of dawn fills our room
the blinds lightly clacking against each other
last night i stood on a piece of glass
and then twisted before i knew what happened
nk pulls out bloody shard
today my foots throbbing
im one million emails behind
people to contact
things to arrange
still waiting for march royalties to come in
the bastards hold on as long as they can
to squeeze the extra interest out
ah weariness
monday
here we go.....
Sunday, March 16, 2008
la vrai morte
after journeying thousand lightwaves
time being in excelsis
yer breaking up
myriad stained glassed lives
falling alone
amazed by what i am
crawling into the patterns left
my little wife holds me as i leaving
somewhere where she is....
i have left the first circle behind me know
voices whisper beware time being
my lost paintings have found me out here
tumble through the florid hues
violet, violet blue, oh magenta, oh fluorescent orange
my steve kilbey face collapses
my hands shaking
oh my shoulders aching aching aching
does his little wife know how he aches out here...?
who can relay this message back to her?
whats this ones name?
careful boys, hes still warm n breathing...
someone musta made a mistake me lovelies
i dont know abaht none of that, my sweeties
i just process em as thet come in
i dont make the rules
n i dont ask no questions neever
surely he wont be allowed sir.......
look, my lovelies
wrap 'im up n let god sort 'im out
which god sir
which god do we fuckin' send this geezer to...?
send 'im to blinkin' kali, my boys
send him all the way down th' bloody line
watch you talkin' 'bout there...?
this un cant be delivered....not yet
why not chief...?
well 'is little bloody wife still 'olding onto 'im...for a start
no problem sir
send me send me
i'll go sir
i'll go up there n 'ave a little talk with 'er
no you bloody wont! no you bloody wont, you know
(many sibilant whispers)
this aint right....
whats 'e think 'e's bloody doing
shut your row number 13
youre bloody unlucky, swot you are
'e's a jinx sir
chuck 'im overboard sir
keelhaul the swab, mr bloody christian..!
easy as she goes , you pack of rats
(he ain't dead yet this one....shhhh!)
dont like the sound of that cough sir
dont like the look of his bloomin' fever
(sssh...they must know what theyre doing up there....eh?)
softly softly , lads
i dont like where this ones going though
shh sshhh keep your bloody mouves shut
oooh i keep shuddering though boys
shuddering at the thought of it
whats all that...?
thats 'is bad bloody karma
see if 'e can escape it this time then, eh?
'ave the boys upstairs finished the paperwork, then?
not yet...so keep bloody working...
sir, kali says she dont wanna see 'im yet
sir, she said send the bastard back
what the devil....?
sir, she said send the bastard back!
back to the little wife....
back to the flowers n the sky...
oooh 'e's a lucky one, our steven
give 'im a kiss boys, 'e'll be back for long
dont none of you get no ideas now
(cor, think of it though...the wife...the flowers..)
(a chorus of disgruntled voices)
the sky...
the trees....
and the bloody clouds, lads, remember the clouds..
'e dont bloody deserve it
'e dont bloody deserve none of it!
kali said theres no such word as deserve
kali said shes still waiting patiently for 'im
she's in no bloody hurry, lads
look boys
stop talkin' about bleedin' kali
and ship this one back out
outbound sir
i am i am i am i am
like a snort of amnesia
up all of yer noses
not what the man in the street supposes
like an aphid in the roses.....
time being in excelsis
yer breaking up
myriad stained glassed lives
falling alone
amazed by what i am
crawling into the patterns left
my little wife holds me as i leaving
somewhere where she is....
i have left the first circle behind me know
voices whisper beware time being
my lost paintings have found me out here
tumble through the florid hues
violet, violet blue, oh magenta, oh fluorescent orange
my steve kilbey face collapses
my hands shaking
oh my shoulders aching aching aching
does his little wife know how he aches out here...?
who can relay this message back to her?
whats this ones name?
careful boys, hes still warm n breathing...
someone musta made a mistake me lovelies
i dont know abaht none of that, my sweeties
i just process em as thet come in
i dont make the rules
n i dont ask no questions neever
surely he wont be allowed sir.......
look, my lovelies
wrap 'im up n let god sort 'im out
which god sir
which god do we fuckin' send this geezer to...?
send 'im to blinkin' kali, my boys
send him all the way down th' bloody line
watch you talkin' 'bout there...?
this un cant be delivered....not yet
why not chief...?
well 'is little bloody wife still 'olding onto 'im...for a start
no problem sir
send me send me
i'll go sir
i'll go up there n 'ave a little talk with 'er
no you bloody wont! no you bloody wont, you know
(many sibilant whispers)
this aint right....
whats 'e think 'e's bloody doing
shut your row number 13
youre bloody unlucky, swot you are
'e's a jinx sir
chuck 'im overboard sir
keelhaul the swab, mr bloody christian..!
easy as she goes , you pack of rats
(he ain't dead yet this one....shhhh!)
dont like the sound of that cough sir
dont like the look of his bloomin' fever
(sssh...they must know what theyre doing up there....eh?)
softly softly , lads
i dont like where this ones going though
shh sshhh keep your bloody mouves shut
oooh i keep shuddering though boys
shuddering at the thought of it
whats all that...?
thats 'is bad bloody karma
see if 'e can escape it this time then, eh?
'ave the boys upstairs finished the paperwork, then?
not yet...so keep bloody working...
sir, kali says she dont wanna see 'im yet
sir, she said send the bastard back
what the devil....?
sir, she said send the bastard back!
back to the little wife....
back to the flowers n the sky...
oooh 'e's a lucky one, our steven
give 'im a kiss boys, 'e'll be back for long
dont none of you get no ideas now
(cor, think of it though...the wife...the flowers..)
(a chorus of disgruntled voices)
the sky...
the trees....
and the bloody clouds, lads, remember the clouds..
'e dont bloody deserve it
'e dont bloody deserve none of it!
kali said theres no such word as deserve
kali said shes still waiting patiently for 'im
she's in no bloody hurry, lads
look boys
stop talkin' about bleedin' kali
and ship this one back out
outbound sir
i am i am i am i am
like a snort of amnesia
up all of yer noses
not what the man in the street supposes
like an aphid in the roses.....
Saturday, March 15, 2008
wherever it goes
its all gone wrong
terribly terribly wrong
who mixed it all up like this
and why?
bill nelsons column
the avenue of the americas
models of de havilland bombers
searching throughout sydney and melbourne
dad pulls over
we always get lost in this spot
scuse me....? my mum calls out
i'm always embarrassed by her "scuse me..?" voice
some old bloke comes over
we're tryin' to find moorabin says my mum
oh ha ha ha
the bloke scratches his head
looks wildly around in every cardinal direction
moorabin he says and guffaws
as if we just asked him the way to pluto
moorabin...he repeats again
my dad gives my mum a map to give the guy
bignell road ? my dad says
the bloke starts his instructions
3 roads down bear right
take the second to your left...no thats right
no it IS left, thats right
and when you hit erskine avenue
turn around n around n around
we drive off
i was bullying russell in the back seat
the radio was blasting ma belle ami by the tee set
my mum hadnt listened...she thought dad was listening
dad hadnt listened ....he thought mum was listening
we're going round in circles! ....he suddenly exclaims
bloody australians! he fumes and lights another cigarette
small sparks and great gusts of filthy smoke
come flying in the back
but we hardly even notice
we assume its a hazard of driving
all that fuckin' cig smoke
in winter its worse
dad n uncle dennis smoking up a storm
no one cracks the window
you try n hold yer breath
united we stand by the brotherhood of man comes on
theres no where else that i'd rather be than with you, my love
why dont you drive killer
peter koppes thrusts the wheel into my hands
no not melbourne boys
you know i always get lost in melbourne, boys
im driving this ford ltd
gee its got a great cassette player
we're listening to ploogys dub reggae compilation
everybodys stoned and or asleep
im driving round n round in circles
i thought these guys would like me
cos i wrote all those songs
but its lonely at the top
and i feel always slightly ostracized
so i drive down tree lined streets in the autumn rain
the players snore
and their guitars bounce around in the boot
the night comes down
and we arrive in east bentleigh
ooh look theres uncle cyril and auntie eve
and lenny
oh lenny makes everybody laugh
my mum n dad really like lenny
the accusation hangs in my head
why couldnt i have been like lenny
hes so nice even i dont hate him cos hes nice
and hes nice to me even tho hes a bit older
and he takes me n paul barber with him
when he goes swimming or ten pin bowling
and hes always got some girlfriends and hot chips
or something groovy always happens here
in melbourne
all those blond brick houses
street after street after street
i feel enclosed by warmth and safety
like listening to an old elvis record
one night while im painting "the vegetalista"
suddenly the modern world recedes
a lovely hazy 1950s hollywood fills me room
the jordanaires croon in the background
the hero just wants a kiss or cuddle
there is no crack or internet or global warming
there is no aids or botox or hummers
in my bungalow here in the hills
among the oaks n elms n syc-a-more trees
the blue jays nest
my blue heaven
miss scarlet riviera nee kilbey dances with me
my friends and i drink a toast
have you seen gary coopers new movie
super-duper
no osama
no obama
are they trying tell us something?
marty wakes up in the back of the car
are we there yet ? he asks pushing the hair outta his eyes
dad turns around still smoking his cigarette
eh? whats that slim? he says half coughing
in the bungalow the ice melts in the martinis
the swimming pool glows blue beyond the windows
after all theres no energy crisis in this world
its all holding hands and goodnight baby
the milkmans on his way
terribly terribly wrong
who mixed it all up like this
and why?
bill nelsons column
the avenue of the americas
models of de havilland bombers
searching throughout sydney and melbourne
dad pulls over
we always get lost in this spot
scuse me....? my mum calls out
i'm always embarrassed by her "scuse me..?" voice
some old bloke comes over
we're tryin' to find moorabin says my mum
oh ha ha ha
the bloke scratches his head
looks wildly around in every cardinal direction
moorabin he says and guffaws
as if we just asked him the way to pluto
moorabin...he repeats again
my dad gives my mum a map to give the guy
bignell road ? my dad says
the bloke starts his instructions
3 roads down bear right
take the second to your left...no thats right
no it IS left, thats right
and when you hit erskine avenue
turn around n around n around
we drive off
i was bullying russell in the back seat
the radio was blasting ma belle ami by the tee set
my mum hadnt listened...she thought dad was listening
dad hadnt listened ....he thought mum was listening
we're going round in circles! ....he suddenly exclaims
bloody australians! he fumes and lights another cigarette
small sparks and great gusts of filthy smoke
come flying in the back
but we hardly even notice
we assume its a hazard of driving
all that fuckin' cig smoke
in winter its worse
dad n uncle dennis smoking up a storm
no one cracks the window
you try n hold yer breath
united we stand by the brotherhood of man comes on
theres no where else that i'd rather be than with you, my love
why dont you drive killer
peter koppes thrusts the wheel into my hands
no not melbourne boys
you know i always get lost in melbourne, boys
im driving this ford ltd
gee its got a great cassette player
we're listening to ploogys dub reggae compilation
everybodys stoned and or asleep
im driving round n round in circles
i thought these guys would like me
cos i wrote all those songs
but its lonely at the top
and i feel always slightly ostracized
so i drive down tree lined streets in the autumn rain
the players snore
and their guitars bounce around in the boot
the night comes down
and we arrive in east bentleigh
ooh look theres uncle cyril and auntie eve
and lenny
oh lenny makes everybody laugh
my mum n dad really like lenny
the accusation hangs in my head
why couldnt i have been like lenny
hes so nice even i dont hate him cos hes nice
and hes nice to me even tho hes a bit older
and he takes me n paul barber with him
when he goes swimming or ten pin bowling
and hes always got some girlfriends and hot chips
or something groovy always happens here
in melbourne
all those blond brick houses
street after street after street
i feel enclosed by warmth and safety
like listening to an old elvis record
one night while im painting "the vegetalista"
suddenly the modern world recedes
a lovely hazy 1950s hollywood fills me room
the jordanaires croon in the background
the hero just wants a kiss or cuddle
there is no crack or internet or global warming
there is no aids or botox or hummers
in my bungalow here in the hills
among the oaks n elms n syc-a-more trees
the blue jays nest
my blue heaven
miss scarlet riviera nee kilbey dances with me
my friends and i drink a toast
have you seen gary coopers new movie
super-duper
no osama
no obama
are they trying tell us something?
marty wakes up in the back of the car
are we there yet ? he asks pushing the hair outta his eyes
dad turns around still smoking his cigarette
eh? whats that slim? he says half coughing
in the bungalow the ice melts in the martinis
the swimming pool glows blue beyond the windows
after all theres no energy crisis in this world
its all holding hands and goodnight baby
the milkmans on his way
Friday, March 14, 2008
however it comes
whatever they rolling down the pipe
those little machine elves baby
they got some geometric mischief up their sleeves
things getting laid on mmm my word
im sorry i cant say
magic must be concealed n its better that way
dont want em banging on my door of perception
dont want their dystopian tube intrusion
anyway
i woke up n steve kilbey was waiting for me
i pulled on my suit
exited quietly
hell some of you know the rest
i have borrowed large chunks out of john erskines autobiography
" a black magician at the white spirit gate"
this is a real publicaion
everything they told you was real
it was real
mine have been the lies
before they take me in n under
not under their avuncular wings im afraid
but under narcosion
into imma-therapy
they beat the eschaton outta me
whos talking now, mr kilbey
you sir are quite mad
houdini never escaped time
the wright brothers crashed on my sofa
leonardos parachute are falling out of the charts
erskine was born
kilbey was born
airborn
aloft
determined to fly this time
kilbey has icarus fixation
plans are conceived far out of my hands
the things i imagine are real
give him 20 mls of pentathol, dr mercurius
ah ha
see his triptomorphones have stabilized
esoteric to the end
spirit what is it?
marys little lamb which lay down with the lions
but the lions ate them both
kilbey why do you ruin everything says erskine
in his book
but my father walks down the streets in sunny tropical london
he just met my mother
and hes happy that we just gave jerry and fritz what for
and now we can all be friends again
my father said to my mother
our son will write blogs on the internet
he will burn cds and smoke dmt
he will make priest equals aura
he will suffer carpal tunnel syndrome and tinnitus
he will worship vishnu and krishna and jesus and buddha
he will....
suddenly the screen goes blank
robert lurie n john erskine are arguing
over my dead body i think
as i lie in this coffin
no no no says lurie
les kilbey had floppy brown hair and yellow teeth
his mother was jessie bellette
his favourite thing was a knees up round the old joanna
his world was the muted grey skies of london
the cold mornings fixing watches in some dim place
erskine begs to differ
kilbey began to notice it was all going wrong in 1973...
74 ! lurie interjects shaking his red haired head
in 73 his father married a swedish woman
one of a set of twins..
no she was norwegian says someone out of range
you could get a good scandavian mail order wife in them days....
the police knock at our door
mrs kilbey
your son just burned down maggie hill
and shot a bird with an air rifle
and wrote a rude letter to a girl at his school
wait a minute says lurie ..peter koppes was the school captain
wrong says nick ward
the school captains name was
beyond
in the future bill nelsons is working on the summer of gods piano
in 1984 im in a basement in stockholm looking at all that snow
i smoke some african weed that stina has found for me
i work on songs that ricki downloaded into my ipod recently
karins brother olle plays the flute
grant mclennan sits in a bar in melbourne
smoking a stuyvo n drinking some red
aurora kilbey yet to utter one word in her jimmy stewart voice
jennifa coyote reads the news and drives her new car...
erskine interrupts here
but the adyar bookshop
the covens
the addictions
the cover ups
richard ploog and the illuminati
yes yes
coming to that
the hippy days
the turnaround
the redemption
the walking in the sun
the masterpiece
the vindication!
nah...
what....?
nah
les kilbey tinkers with a piano
and paints the walls lilac
his little son says his first word
and its
reticulation
those little machine elves baby
they got some geometric mischief up their sleeves
things getting laid on mmm my word
im sorry i cant say
magic must be concealed n its better that way
dont want em banging on my door of perception
dont want their dystopian tube intrusion
anyway
i woke up n steve kilbey was waiting for me
i pulled on my suit
exited quietly
hell some of you know the rest
i have borrowed large chunks out of john erskines autobiography
" a black magician at the white spirit gate"
this is a real publicaion
everything they told you was real
it was real
mine have been the lies
before they take me in n under
not under their avuncular wings im afraid
but under narcosion
into imma-therapy
they beat the eschaton outta me
whos talking now, mr kilbey
you sir are quite mad
houdini never escaped time
the wright brothers crashed on my sofa
leonardos parachute are falling out of the charts
erskine was born
kilbey was born
airborn
aloft
determined to fly this time
kilbey has icarus fixation
plans are conceived far out of my hands
the things i imagine are real
give him 20 mls of pentathol, dr mercurius
ah ha
see his triptomorphones have stabilized
esoteric to the end
spirit what is it?
marys little lamb which lay down with the lions
but the lions ate them both
kilbey why do you ruin everything says erskine
in his book
but my father walks down the streets in sunny tropical london
he just met my mother
and hes happy that we just gave jerry and fritz what for
and now we can all be friends again
my father said to my mother
our son will write blogs on the internet
he will burn cds and smoke dmt
he will make priest equals aura
he will suffer carpal tunnel syndrome and tinnitus
he will worship vishnu and krishna and jesus and buddha
he will....
suddenly the screen goes blank
robert lurie n john erskine are arguing
over my dead body i think
as i lie in this coffin
no no no says lurie
les kilbey had floppy brown hair and yellow teeth
his mother was jessie bellette
his favourite thing was a knees up round the old joanna
his world was the muted grey skies of london
the cold mornings fixing watches in some dim place
erskine begs to differ
kilbey began to notice it was all going wrong in 1973...
74 ! lurie interjects shaking his red haired head
in 73 his father married a swedish woman
one of a set of twins..
no she was norwegian says someone out of range
you could get a good scandavian mail order wife in them days....
the police knock at our door
mrs kilbey
your son just burned down maggie hill
and shot a bird with an air rifle
and wrote a rude letter to a girl at his school
wait a minute says lurie ..peter koppes was the school captain
wrong says nick ward
the school captains name was
beyond
in the future bill nelsons is working on the summer of gods piano
in 1984 im in a basement in stockholm looking at all that snow
i smoke some african weed that stina has found for me
i work on songs that ricki downloaded into my ipod recently
karins brother olle plays the flute
grant mclennan sits in a bar in melbourne
smoking a stuyvo n drinking some red
aurora kilbey yet to utter one word in her jimmy stewart voice
jennifa coyote reads the news and drives her new car...
erskine interrupts here
but the adyar bookshop
the covens
the addictions
the cover ups
richard ploog and the illuminati
yes yes
coming to that
the hippy days
the turnaround
the redemption
the walking in the sun
the masterpiece
the vindication!
nah...
what....?
nah
les kilbey tinkers with a piano
and paints the walls lilac
his little son says his first word
and its
reticulation
Thursday, March 13, 2008
verily i tell thee : life is weird
a juice bar in bondi
i approach it and the people are all listening
the two guys behind the counter +
a male n female customer
theyre listening to a song i cant quite make out
my hearing is that bad
i hear something sounding vaguely familiar
the people are all quite excited by it
i wonder what it is
the bits that get under my tinnitus' radar sound ....hmmm?
the guy behind the counter says to the customer
your band should do this song billy
oh yeah well wed love to...i wish we could
yeah i love this song and this band says the older dude
behind the counter
who looks a bit like an older healthier david lane
ooh i love it too says the woman
my curiosity forces me up front to the counter
what song are they listening to...?
of course my loyal feendss will have already guessed
it was THAT song
yeah you know the one
the one gonna be in that hit novel bein' made into film right now
before my brain can do anything
i say i wrote that song
silence
someone kinda sniggers
the woman spins round to observe me
look at me
in a droopy weatherbeaten hat
white beard
sunglasses
a shortsleeved grey worksheet that has patches
"ford"
a winged eyeball
and 2 different ones saying "chronic"
baggy shorts white with rainbow pastel stains
a pair of boots
do i look like some dapper songwriting geezer
or do i look like the bloke thats come round
to give you a quote on yer rising damp?
now one of the guys behind the counter
has never really liked me that much
always treated me ever so ever so off hand
now he looks at me hard
what is his expression?
whats yer name mate? he says eventually
in a tone
like a policeman caught a thief red handed
steve i says
taking off the hat and sunglasses
he registers that
ive bought at least 100 watermelon pineapple n ginger juices
off this guy
he always asks yer name so they call out to ya when its done
maybe it breeds some pseudo-cameraderie...i dunno
he knows im steve
steve kilbey i say after allowing a suitable dramatic pause
suddenly they all break out in church stories
i saw you here....!
i bought this then.....!
i got blah blah blahed to this song...!
the woman personally thanks me over n over
for writing the song
as if its brought about world peace or something
she cant believe shes meeting a real live songwriter
whos songs are played on the radio and everyfing...
i really really mean it she says reluctant to let me n the woofle go
i really really do she is still saying as me n the woofle skedaddle
she still stands there behind me in the distance
thinking how she'll tell her husband jason
how she met...oh whatsisname
who wrote that song yer sister got married too...
*
love
k
ps im in the running still for ant sci !
i approach it and the people are all listening
the two guys behind the counter +
a male n female customer
theyre listening to a song i cant quite make out
my hearing is that bad
i hear something sounding vaguely familiar
the people are all quite excited by it
i wonder what it is
the bits that get under my tinnitus' radar sound ....hmmm?
the guy behind the counter says to the customer
your band should do this song billy
oh yeah well wed love to...i wish we could
yeah i love this song and this band says the older dude
behind the counter
who looks a bit like an older healthier david lane
ooh i love it too says the woman
my curiosity forces me up front to the counter
what song are they listening to...?
of course my loyal feendss will have already guessed
it was THAT song
yeah you know the one
the one gonna be in that hit novel bein' made into film right now
before my brain can do anything
i say i wrote that song
silence
someone kinda sniggers
the woman spins round to observe me
look at me
in a droopy weatherbeaten hat
white beard
sunglasses
a shortsleeved grey worksheet that has patches
"ford"
a winged eyeball
and 2 different ones saying "chronic"
baggy shorts white with rainbow pastel stains
a pair of boots
do i look like some dapper songwriting geezer
or do i look like the bloke thats come round
to give you a quote on yer rising damp?
now one of the guys behind the counter
has never really liked me that much
always treated me ever so ever so off hand
now he looks at me hard
what is his expression?
whats yer name mate? he says eventually
in a tone
like a policeman caught a thief red handed
steve i says
taking off the hat and sunglasses
he registers that
ive bought at least 100 watermelon pineapple n ginger juices
off this guy
he always asks yer name so they call out to ya when its done
maybe it breeds some pseudo-cameraderie...i dunno
he knows im steve
steve kilbey i say after allowing a suitable dramatic pause
suddenly they all break out in church stories
i saw you here....!
i bought this then.....!
i got blah blah blahed to this song...!
the woman personally thanks me over n over
for writing the song
as if its brought about world peace or something
she cant believe shes meeting a real live songwriter
whos songs are played on the radio and everyfing...
i really really mean it she says reluctant to let me n the woofle go
i really really do she is still saying as me n the woofle skedaddle
she still stands there behind me in the distance
thinking how she'll tell her husband jason
how she met...oh whatsisname
who wrote that song yer sister got married too...
*
love
k
ps im in the running still for ant sci !
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
points in the distance
god cannot give you free will
and still intervene
can god make 1 + 1 = 3 ?
i know eventually we will see the reason for everything
but god works in mysterious ways
my friend matty
a fuckin' upright honest hardworking cheerful man
kind to all n sundry
this thing been eating him for nearly ten years
hes had radio
hes had fuckin' chemo
hes had steroids
hes had xrays n 2 very very nasty ops
hes just fallin' in love n bought a house
with a lovely lady with a childe that both love him
he has never once to me complained or seemed scared
he knows this fuckin tumour is gonna get him eventually
i blame mobile phones...partially
want my mobile phone number
here it is 00000000000
thats right
my fuckin intuition says nevets dont use mobile phones
my intuition says micro waves are fuckin' deadly
my intuition says all the internet signal is getting us too
my intuition says tv irradiate us with invisible fallout too
my intuition says the stuff in fuckin' meat is deadly
my intuition says cheese in beer will fuck up yer face
my intuition said saddam has no weapons..this war is a sham
my intuition said the day bush was elected many many will suffer
(remember i was in u.s. then)
my intuition told me i would marry natalie dalton after one day
my intuition said to me play the bass ...one day you'll be good
my intuition has been wrong too
many times
a false intuition imitating the real one
ok enough
matt, wherever you are right now
theres a whole lotta people behind you boy, in spirit
i will never be able to say how much i have admired your courage
even if you get out of this one ...
but
i hope it will inspire me when my time comes to face such horrors
god if you are listening
if you do exist
as i keep telling my fiendss that you do
please
ok
i know you cant intervene exactly
not directly
or can you?
whatever you can....
he really does deserve it
*
my daughter scarlet who looks a lot like joyce bennett
and mimi kilbey who is my niece,
is quite brilliant
she is definitely a genius
an opera singer
a sculptress
a female prime minister
a feisty wench who is gonna break a few hearts
but
inexplicably
oh no
how can i admit this to my self and the fiendss...?
she likes the sodding wiggles
anathema!
the wiggles are so god damned ball crushingly bad
vishnu knows as a father of 5
ive sat through some rubbish
i mean most kids shows are rubbish
if yer a 50 odd year old hippy idiot with a penchant for surrealism
barney the dinosaur is near pornographic in its dripping syrup
play school is like regular adults pretending to be morons
the cartoons...sponge bob should be banned..its just muck
the junk they had when i was a kid...
but
in all my hours of kiddy tripe
im sorry
the wiggles is the most insultingly pathetic waste of your precious time
oh look im mopping the floor
all the wiggles break into song
hes mopping the floor hes mopping the floor
music guaranteed to be the most bland underdone blaaagh!
its not even music..its....i dunno
then the dance routines
the dialogue
the other characters.. capn fuckin' feathersword...OH SWEET JESUS!
there is not one redeeming feature except
the incredible thrill i get out of inflicting the thought on myself that
these 4 talentless drips
are some of the richest blokes in aushtralia
and i
well
you know the rest......
i guess none o the wiggles were junkies..
break into song
stevie was a junkie stevie was a junkie
captn feathersword : stevie was a junkie
dorothy the fuckin' dinosaur : stevie was a junkie
and a chrus line of b-dancers dressed up as bouncy syringes
anyway my daughter scarlet likes it
daddy daddy the wiggles the wiggles!
no oh my flesh you mortify me with this request...
oh dear
*
mercator projection is almost ready
it is
it is mwp sk tp jorden b and william b
our space rock night xmas 2005
soon coming your way
live recording
space rock classics +
dvd too soon...?
leave you with these words
nutmeg
toothbrush
faucet
and still intervene
can god make 1 + 1 = 3 ?
i know eventually we will see the reason for everything
but god works in mysterious ways
my friend matty
a fuckin' upright honest hardworking cheerful man
kind to all n sundry
this thing been eating him for nearly ten years
hes had radio
hes had fuckin' chemo
hes had steroids
hes had xrays n 2 very very nasty ops
hes just fallin' in love n bought a house
with a lovely lady with a childe that both love him
he has never once to me complained or seemed scared
he knows this fuckin tumour is gonna get him eventually
i blame mobile phones...partially
want my mobile phone number
here it is 00000000000
thats right
my fuckin intuition says nevets dont use mobile phones
my intuition says micro waves are fuckin' deadly
my intuition says all the internet signal is getting us too
my intuition says tv irradiate us with invisible fallout too
my intuition says the stuff in fuckin' meat is deadly
my intuition says cheese in beer will fuck up yer face
my intuition said saddam has no weapons..this war is a sham
my intuition said the day bush was elected many many will suffer
(remember i was in u.s. then)
my intuition told me i would marry natalie dalton after one day
my intuition said to me play the bass ...one day you'll be good
my intuition has been wrong too
many times
a false intuition imitating the real one
ok enough
matt, wherever you are right now
theres a whole lotta people behind you boy, in spirit
i will never be able to say how much i have admired your courage
even if you get out of this one ...
but
i hope it will inspire me when my time comes to face such horrors
god if you are listening
if you do exist
as i keep telling my fiendss that you do
please
ok
i know you cant intervene exactly
not directly
or can you?
whatever you can....
he really does deserve it
*
my daughter scarlet who looks a lot like joyce bennett
and mimi kilbey who is my niece,
is quite brilliant
she is definitely a genius
an opera singer
a sculptress
a female prime minister
a feisty wench who is gonna break a few hearts
but
inexplicably
oh no
how can i admit this to my self and the fiendss...?
she likes the sodding wiggles
anathema!
the wiggles are so god damned ball crushingly bad
vishnu knows as a father of 5
ive sat through some rubbish
i mean most kids shows are rubbish
if yer a 50 odd year old hippy idiot with a penchant for surrealism
barney the dinosaur is near pornographic in its dripping syrup
play school is like regular adults pretending to be morons
the cartoons...sponge bob should be banned..its just muck
the junk they had when i was a kid...
but
in all my hours of kiddy tripe
im sorry
the wiggles is the most insultingly pathetic waste of your precious time
oh look im mopping the floor
all the wiggles break into song
hes mopping the floor hes mopping the floor
music guaranteed to be the most bland underdone blaaagh!
its not even music..its....i dunno
then the dance routines
the dialogue
the other characters.. capn fuckin' feathersword...OH SWEET JESUS!
there is not one redeeming feature except
the incredible thrill i get out of inflicting the thought on myself that
these 4 talentless drips
are some of the richest blokes in aushtralia
and i
well
you know the rest......
i guess none o the wiggles were junkies..
break into song
stevie was a junkie stevie was a junkie
captn feathersword : stevie was a junkie
dorothy the fuckin' dinosaur : stevie was a junkie
and a chrus line of b-dancers dressed up as bouncy syringes
anyway my daughter scarlet likes it
daddy daddy the wiggles the wiggles!
no oh my flesh you mortify me with this request...
oh dear
*
mercator projection is almost ready
it is
it is mwp sk tp jorden b and william b
our space rock night xmas 2005
soon coming your way
live recording
space rock classics +
dvd too soon...?
leave you with these words
nutmeg
toothbrush
faucet
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
light leap year
french whispers
music elongated in tall shadows
a mirror of colour
a psychiatric drug which cures weed addiction
yeah i wanna swallow a spider to catch a fly
these are the journals of the being in time
sweet being in time
contained by time at every place
strings pulled sidereal
renaissance man class 2/3
music tick
words tick
painting tick
singing tick
acting little tick
inventor no tick
sculpture no tick
dancer no tick
an oboey clarinet dissolves in fractals n shards
kilbey
warm comfort
smell of a slightly burnt bagel
dear friend matty c in sjukhus
in coma with pipe in throat
why god oh why why why
god heal them all
think about leslie
better for him to depart bang! sudden-like
but he already went through one hell in war #2
never to meet minna or the woofle
how safe and warm i felt with him
he was normality personified
when he appeared
the music is like a howling wind
some echo traps it and it repeats into kaleidoscopic distance
i am olde today
the years i hoped would go away
my liver groans under the sheer weight of all the chemicals
my brain shrinks into a sponge of curdled ideas
skin hangs of bones
bones crumble
all things turn inwards
inside working on the big equation
mathematics no tick
science no tick
greek mythology tick
hindu cosmology tick
all is vibration
scarlet in her pink dressing gown
emails to answer
responsibilities to shoulder
shoulders to un-ache
worries to worry about
commerce no tick
finances no tick
music ascends in gently quivering cascades
up up up
leslies birthday 3rd of march
eventually you are completely forgotten
swallowed up by time
whats the time
its 830
eve says its a lovely day cant we stay home from school
aurora joins in
no you must go to sausage factory
to learn to just cope with this monster you never asked for
you must register be signed up be innoculated be categorised
be trained work hard be selected be a cog in the grate machine
youll need husbands n bosses n kids n degrees n beemers n toasters
youll need doctors n electricians n beauty salons n niteclubs
entertainer little tick
father little tick
the music fades into a cylindrical tunnel of silence
the children chirrup n chatter
the garbage trucks arrive
garbos with mobile phones
dogs run around pissing on posts
the sun pops up
the friendlier autumnal sun
a lovely day dawns for some
down the pool to swim in the sauna
another day after another
thus was it always
swings n roundabouts
kilbey sign off now
kilbey disappear into this day
kilbey walk n talk with sweet children in time
for time being
music elongated in tall shadows
a mirror of colour
a psychiatric drug which cures weed addiction
yeah i wanna swallow a spider to catch a fly
these are the journals of the being in time
sweet being in time
contained by time at every place
strings pulled sidereal
renaissance man class 2/3
music tick
words tick
painting tick
singing tick
acting little tick
inventor no tick
sculpture no tick
dancer no tick
an oboey clarinet dissolves in fractals n shards
kilbey
warm comfort
smell of a slightly burnt bagel
dear friend matty c in sjukhus
in coma with pipe in throat
why god oh why why why
god heal them all
think about leslie
better for him to depart bang! sudden-like
but he already went through one hell in war #2
never to meet minna or the woofle
how safe and warm i felt with him
he was normality personified
when he appeared
the music is like a howling wind
some echo traps it and it repeats into kaleidoscopic distance
i am olde today
the years i hoped would go away
my liver groans under the sheer weight of all the chemicals
my brain shrinks into a sponge of curdled ideas
skin hangs of bones
bones crumble
all things turn inwards
inside working on the big equation
mathematics no tick
science no tick
greek mythology tick
hindu cosmology tick
all is vibration
scarlet in her pink dressing gown
emails to answer
responsibilities to shoulder
shoulders to un-ache
worries to worry about
commerce no tick
finances no tick
music ascends in gently quivering cascades
up up up
leslies birthday 3rd of march
eventually you are completely forgotten
swallowed up by time
whats the time
its 830
eve says its a lovely day cant we stay home from school
aurora joins in
no you must go to sausage factory
to learn to just cope with this monster you never asked for
you must register be signed up be innoculated be categorised
be trained work hard be selected be a cog in the grate machine
youll need husbands n bosses n kids n degrees n beemers n toasters
youll need doctors n electricians n beauty salons n niteclubs
entertainer little tick
father little tick
the music fades into a cylindrical tunnel of silence
the children chirrup n chatter
the garbage trucks arrive
garbos with mobile phones
dogs run around pissing on posts
the sun pops up
the friendlier autumnal sun
a lovely day dawns for some
down the pool to swim in the sauna
another day after another
thus was it always
swings n roundabouts
kilbey sign off now
kilbey disappear into this day
kilbey walk n talk with sweet children in time
for time being
Monday, March 10, 2008
beginning of the weak
monday finds me energiless
a cold has swooped down n gotten me
yesterday was perfect
great day with fambley
ideal weather
eat mexican on the beach
warm water
walk home in aromatic darkness
flowers trees shadows
sometimes life aint too bad
my fambley dared me to streak in my undies up street
in the middle of the day
i did
and they all screamed but hardly anyone
saw the old geezer in boots n hat running up street
in his undies
nevermind
jesus i guess thats about it
no calls back re gig as antarctic scientist
too bad
aint got energy to care
only managed 2 laps at pool
oh the shame
see ya tomorrow with a proper blog
sk
a cold has swooped down n gotten me
yesterday was perfect
great day with fambley
ideal weather
eat mexican on the beach
warm water
walk home in aromatic darkness
flowers trees shadows
sometimes life aint too bad
my fambley dared me to streak in my undies up street
in the middle of the day
i did
and they all screamed but hardly anyone
saw the old geezer in boots n hat running up street
in his undies
nevermind
jesus i guess thats about it
no calls back re gig as antarctic scientist
too bad
aint got energy to care
only managed 2 laps at pool
oh the shame
see ya tomorrow with a proper blog
sk
Sunday, March 09, 2008
antarctica starts here
oooh
woke up wasted and headachey
the wrath of grapes (and other things)
today
the whole family is auditioning for a commercial
a mummy and her baby
(tick) can do that..(tho scarlet not much of a baby now)
determined 8 year old girls
(tick) can do that in spades
a bearded rugged intelligent old geezer
(tick) thats gotta be me..ok take out intelligent...
ooh daddy
you picked a bad night to get way-sted..
daddy throws his usual hangover cure at it
which is 2 spliffs two cans of v and a load of panadeine
(which minus the panadeine is his usual start anyway)
eventually we get the troops loaded up
to sunny woolhara
up queen street
find the place
hmmm
loadsa other hopefuls
i glare at the other beards
ta tellya the troof
i had more antarctic scientist in my little toe
than all of em put together
eventually after much 'anging about
we get called in
theres the lady who runs the agency
and the director
heres the kilbey family she says to him
we introduce ourselves
when i say steven
she says steve
i nod
steve kilbey
uh huh
oh no
i been trying to stay anonymous-like
i reckon if they think people are gonna know who i "am"
i may not get the gig
she runs over to director
who is a bit younger than she is n me
and hes from nz and he might be gay
she says
oh its steve kilbey hes very well known blah blah blah
shaddup lady
shes goes on a bit more
look i say
nobody knows me now i hardly ever play
werent you on at the opera house last night ? she says
yeah but.....
its hard to see if this sways the director one way or t'other
and what are your ages
well scarlet is 2 n half
eve n aurora pipe up
8
natalie says im 32
and i say im 53
the weight of the subtraction hangs in the air
we all look at each other
i burst out
oh my god im 21 years older than my wife..oh no oh no
everyone has a good laugh ha ha ha
next up the woofle blows her chances
by acting like a turkey
everytime the cameras on her shes struggling straining rebelling
as soon as its off shes placid happy co operative
out she goes with mummy to wait outside
then aurora does her audition
which was climbing on a chair pretending its a tree
she does it with her dopey "this is ridiculous" face
like eyore would....this'll never work
the directors saying to her
oh its a lovely tree...look you can see for miles
but aurora sits there like....i dunno...a goose
evie starr aptly named has a crack
she responds to herr directeurs cues
oh the chair is a wondrous great oak
and she climbs it sitting in its leafy branches looking quite beatific
evie is dressed in a lovely black n white dress
her wonderful thick chestnut curly hair is up
and she looks quite bloody gorgeous
next up me
i peer into the frozen south pole
which is really a room in woolhara
we discussed my beard
steve are you willing to thicken your beard up....?
its too manicured he says
druid for this money i put it in plaits if you want
we drive off
nk not rating her n woofles chances very hi
aurora...little hope
me n evie shoo-ins
when are they letting you guys know ?she asks sadly
YOU guys...not US guys ....hmmm...lets see
at 6 oclock
now very tired n lazy
i meet elektra down at the beach
we're gonna have dinner but shes had "like 6 milkshakes, daddee"
we get to pavillion n order salads
no salads left
she has water
i have a muffin
lucky im tired
cos lately elli n i been arguing a bit
her materialistic approach disappoints me a little
we been clashing
tonite i just sit there n listen
which i usually (can) never do
elli talks about clothes shoes hair etc
about blonding cream with lemon juice
which has made her brown hair blonde
i impress her by saying i tried to dye my hair
with lemon juice when i was ten...to look like surfies
oh wow she says
a wedding arrives at the pav
elli talks about their clothes n hair n shoes
we disagree in a friendly fashion about it all
we drift over to visit minna where shes working
so so so different now
these identical people
so different
elli blonde tanned breezy
minna dark pale slightly troubled
i get some chips
elli n i talk some more
i buy her some drops for her tired eyes
we walk home
go in and talk to her n karin
elli doesnt want a deep n meaningless conversation w/ me
i understand this (finally)
just leave things well enuff alone
we had a good night
go home put doodles into bed
watch an episode of the sopranos with nk
go to bed
sleep heavy
and now
its sunday
calloo callay!
woke up wasted and headachey
the wrath of grapes (and other things)
today
the whole family is auditioning for a commercial
a mummy and her baby
(tick) can do that..(tho scarlet not much of a baby now)
determined 8 year old girls
(tick) can do that in spades
a bearded rugged intelligent old geezer
(tick) thats gotta be me..ok take out intelligent...
ooh daddy
you picked a bad night to get way-sted..
daddy throws his usual hangover cure at it
which is 2 spliffs two cans of v and a load of panadeine
(which minus the panadeine is his usual start anyway)
eventually we get the troops loaded up
to sunny woolhara
up queen street
find the place
hmmm
loadsa other hopefuls
i glare at the other beards
ta tellya the troof
i had more antarctic scientist in my little toe
than all of em put together
eventually after much 'anging about
we get called in
theres the lady who runs the agency
and the director
heres the kilbey family she says to him
we introduce ourselves
when i say steven
she says steve
i nod
steve kilbey
uh huh
oh no
i been trying to stay anonymous-like
i reckon if they think people are gonna know who i "am"
i may not get the gig
she runs over to director
who is a bit younger than she is n me
and hes from nz and he might be gay
she says
oh its steve kilbey hes very well known blah blah blah
shaddup lady
shes goes on a bit more
look i say
nobody knows me now i hardly ever play
werent you on at the opera house last night ? she says
yeah but.....
its hard to see if this sways the director one way or t'other
and what are your ages
well scarlet is 2 n half
eve n aurora pipe up
8
natalie says im 32
and i say im 53
the weight of the subtraction hangs in the air
we all look at each other
i burst out
oh my god im 21 years older than my wife..oh no oh no
everyone has a good laugh ha ha ha
next up the woofle blows her chances
by acting like a turkey
everytime the cameras on her shes struggling straining rebelling
as soon as its off shes placid happy co operative
out she goes with mummy to wait outside
then aurora does her audition
which was climbing on a chair pretending its a tree
she does it with her dopey "this is ridiculous" face
like eyore would....this'll never work
the directors saying to her
oh its a lovely tree...look you can see for miles
but aurora sits there like....i dunno...a goose
evie starr aptly named has a crack
she responds to herr directeurs cues
oh the chair is a wondrous great oak
and she climbs it sitting in its leafy branches looking quite beatific
evie is dressed in a lovely black n white dress
her wonderful thick chestnut curly hair is up
and she looks quite bloody gorgeous
next up me
i peer into the frozen south pole
which is really a room in woolhara
we discussed my beard
steve are you willing to thicken your beard up....?
its too manicured he says
druid for this money i put it in plaits if you want
we drive off
nk not rating her n woofles chances very hi
aurora...little hope
me n evie shoo-ins
when are they letting you guys know ?she asks sadly
YOU guys...not US guys ....hmmm...lets see
at 6 oclock
now very tired n lazy
i meet elektra down at the beach
we're gonna have dinner but shes had "like 6 milkshakes, daddee"
we get to pavillion n order salads
no salads left
she has water
i have a muffin
lucky im tired
cos lately elli n i been arguing a bit
her materialistic approach disappoints me a little
we been clashing
tonite i just sit there n listen
which i usually (can) never do
elli talks about clothes shoes hair etc
about blonding cream with lemon juice
which has made her brown hair blonde
i impress her by saying i tried to dye my hair
with lemon juice when i was ten...to look like surfies
oh wow she says
a wedding arrives at the pav
elli talks about their clothes n hair n shoes
we disagree in a friendly fashion about it all
we drift over to visit minna where shes working
so so so different now
these identical people
so different
elli blonde tanned breezy
minna dark pale slightly troubled
i get some chips
elli n i talk some more
i buy her some drops for her tired eyes
we walk home
go in and talk to her n karin
elli doesnt want a deep n meaningless conversation w/ me
i understand this (finally)
just leave things well enuff alone
we had a good night
go home put doodles into bed
watch an episode of the sopranos with nk
go to bed
sleep heavy
and now
its sunday
calloo callay!
Saturday, March 08, 2008
soap opera house
scarlet kilbey cried herself to sleep
20 minutes later her daddy
who tried hard
but was rougher and more clumsy
than her little mama
he woke her up
as she woke up
the pain started up in her hands
daddy had rubbed some cream on them
but it hadnt helped at all
out into the open air
scarlet kilbey moaned and waved her little hands about
by the time we got to school
she was beside herself
but daddy
who was getting on a bit in years
he couldnt see what it was
even with his glasses on
aurora takes scarlets hand
oh no dad shes got hundreds in there
aurora begins to do her best
plucking the tiny tiny spines out
she could only just see them herself
when the hand was turned into the light
like tiny little hairs
scarlets palms and fingers n thumbs
were full of miniscule white spines
i know they hurt cos i got some in my hand from her
a lovely mummy from the school
takes us to her place
where under a bright light n magnifying glass
she took 45 minutes to remove the hundreds literally of nasties
scarlet screamed n whimper n eventually broke into
a maniacal laughter
bordering on hysteria
just like aurora did
just like her old daddy did when he was a boy
i'd cry n cry n then begin to cackle wildly
eventually the ordeal is over
i take kids to beach
oooh boy scarlet kilbey wants to jump in the sea today
unbearably humid weather
all the tears n pain n a sticky muesli bar
made her wanna cool down
the big girls are straight into the water
her daddy-o takes all her clothes off
they go down to waters edge
scarlet can almost feel that warm foamy water
swirling caressing reminding her of the long forgotten womb
but
uh oh
daddys screaming to the doodles to get out
no daddy why why
daddys seen some things on the shore
blue soft things with long blue streamers
scarlet realises she aint gonna getta a swim n shes furious
daddy seems really angry too
he stands yelling n arguing at everybody
boy when evie didnt come out of the sea
he went kinda crazy
somedays daddy is so funny and sweet
and somedays hes running around yelling at us and mummy
and we all pretend to be frightened
(of course we're not!)
poor daddy!
we get home n mummys waiting
then karin comes over to babysit
karin is the mother of the big sisters
karin is very kind and speaks with a strange accent
karin is very happy today
she tells daddy-o
that some movie is using a song they wrote
and that theyre gonna get some money from it
daddy and mummy go out
daddy is reciting some lyrics at the opera house
the poets before him are funny humorous vigourous
when daddy gets up
the spirit refuses to take him
not like at triffids or even melbo expo
where the spirit descended and guided him
daddy was bereft of inspiration
after the real poets
his lyrics sound like....lyrics
he gets a little angry
i coulda read them so real poetry he thinks
his brief spot over
to a smattering of lukewarm applause
daddy pisses off home quick
but no one was gonna bother him tonight
when he gets home he finds out
that he has got an actual audition
AND
the rest of family are also ALL auditioning for the same ad
my description is
a bearded man in his early fifties
should look educated but also rugged n weatherbeaten
an antarctic scientist!
druid, is that me or what?
anyway
daddy gets roped into picking up minna
my eldest sister whos working tonight
daddy goes out n checks his radiator
and gets soaked by the wild thunderstorm raging over syd
he makes a detour to bottle shop for 2 bottles of riccadonna
when he gets to minna ha ha
she is working for a bit longer
amazed by how grown up
how cooly intelligent and gorgeous his daughter is
daddy agrees to wait
parked in the black streets
rain gushing down
listening to coffee hounds ep in his car
well ya know its kinda fuckin' good
daddy eventually drives minna home
comes in
we all go to bed
mummys having a bath
and daddy
i suppose lost himself in intoxication n love
trying to blot out
a black friday
20 minutes later her daddy
who tried hard
but was rougher and more clumsy
than her little mama
he woke her up
as she woke up
the pain started up in her hands
daddy had rubbed some cream on them
but it hadnt helped at all
out into the open air
scarlet kilbey moaned and waved her little hands about
by the time we got to school
she was beside herself
but daddy
who was getting on a bit in years
he couldnt see what it was
even with his glasses on
aurora takes scarlets hand
oh no dad shes got hundreds in there
aurora begins to do her best
plucking the tiny tiny spines out
she could only just see them herself
when the hand was turned into the light
like tiny little hairs
scarlets palms and fingers n thumbs
were full of miniscule white spines
i know they hurt cos i got some in my hand from her
a lovely mummy from the school
takes us to her place
where under a bright light n magnifying glass
she took 45 minutes to remove the hundreds literally of nasties
scarlet screamed n whimper n eventually broke into
a maniacal laughter
bordering on hysteria
just like aurora did
just like her old daddy did when he was a boy
i'd cry n cry n then begin to cackle wildly
eventually the ordeal is over
i take kids to beach
oooh boy scarlet kilbey wants to jump in the sea today
unbearably humid weather
all the tears n pain n a sticky muesli bar
made her wanna cool down
the big girls are straight into the water
her daddy-o takes all her clothes off
they go down to waters edge
scarlet can almost feel that warm foamy water
swirling caressing reminding her of the long forgotten womb
but
uh oh
daddys screaming to the doodles to get out
no daddy why why
daddys seen some things on the shore
blue soft things with long blue streamers
scarlet realises she aint gonna getta a swim n shes furious
daddy seems really angry too
he stands yelling n arguing at everybody
boy when evie didnt come out of the sea
he went kinda crazy
somedays daddy is so funny and sweet
and somedays hes running around yelling at us and mummy
and we all pretend to be frightened
(of course we're not!)
poor daddy!
we get home n mummys waiting
then karin comes over to babysit
karin is the mother of the big sisters
karin is very kind and speaks with a strange accent
karin is very happy today
she tells daddy-o
that some movie is using a song they wrote
and that theyre gonna get some money from it
daddy and mummy go out
daddy is reciting some lyrics at the opera house
the poets before him are funny humorous vigourous
when daddy gets up
the spirit refuses to take him
not like at triffids or even melbo expo
where the spirit descended and guided him
daddy was bereft of inspiration
after the real poets
his lyrics sound like....lyrics
he gets a little angry
i coulda read them so real poetry he thinks
his brief spot over
to a smattering of lukewarm applause
daddy pisses off home quick
but no one was gonna bother him tonight
when he gets home he finds out
that he has got an actual audition
AND
the rest of family are also ALL auditioning for the same ad
my description is
a bearded man in his early fifties
should look educated but also rugged n weatherbeaten
an antarctic scientist!
druid, is that me or what?
anyway
daddy gets roped into picking up minna
my eldest sister whos working tonight
daddy goes out n checks his radiator
and gets soaked by the wild thunderstorm raging over syd
he makes a detour to bottle shop for 2 bottles of riccadonna
when he gets to minna ha ha
she is working for a bit longer
amazed by how grown up
how cooly intelligent and gorgeous his daughter is
daddy agrees to wait
parked in the black streets
rain gushing down
listening to coffee hounds ep in his car
well ya know its kinda fuckin' good
daddy eventually drives minna home
comes in
we all go to bed
mummys having a bath
and daddy
i suppose lost himself in intoxication n love
trying to blot out
a black friday
Friday, March 07, 2008
found a fox caught by dogs
coffee hounds ep by church now done coming soon
track one how easy it all is (coffee song)
marine sleepy floydy
track 2 hounds of love
the kate bush song
nice version i guess
track 3 instrumental of 1
without my stupid voice
i cant cope with all the email n gmail n myspace
i just cannot dedicate so much tyme and electronic blechh
i get like 100 emails a day
i answer most urgent
the rest drift behind
people get angry feel ignored
sorry
im spending 2 hours a day on blog
its killing my shoulders arm n now knee
no time
the computers swallowing my time
makes me restless
gives me headaches
makes me feel sick
been doing self portraits
scarlet comes in and says
i like your daddy
i say
no i like your daddy
she says i like your daddy
theres a portrait of ricki
i like your ricki she says as she leaves
tonite gigging at opera house
reciting 2 songs
huh?
yeah
lets see what happens...
full report tomorrow
thank you to spate of generous subscribers
people you are very very good friends of the time being inc
had a nasty bit of argy bargy just now with someone close
my anger (again) consumes me
despite all the other bullshit i write (about)
my anger is still a fucking barely concealed monster
constantly slipping his shackles and slathering mad
anybody reading this
PLEASE DO NOT ATTEMPT TO "FUCK" WITH ME
i cannot control myself
i am willing to argue straight n negotiate
but now at this advanced age of almost 54
(thats right, add them years n weep!)
i cannot tolerate any childish malarkey
or unnecessary friction
dont drive me around in 3rd gear with the handbrake on
or im gonna boil
just like my car
falcon experts please come to my aid here
my car doesnt have a leak
but SOMETIMES but not others
it boils and the fluid comes spurting out some place
i cant see
othertimes..no problems
advice?
weather here very sultry
storm coming in
feels like my head
here i am
stevie killbee
poet idiot space rocker artist player singer blogger veg
ok they are my gigs
but not fuckin' arguments n nyah nyah nyah n
killin the goose that laid a golden blog
or looking my gifthoarse in the bloody gob
anyway
i gotta lotta things on the boil (bad choice o' words)
n i aint done yoga
gotta pick up the kidlettes etc
scarlet hurt her hands playing with a cactus
and shes still miserably waving them round at me
and im afraid my eyesight is dimming sufficiently
that i cant see the small spines remaining in her hand (if any)
painkiller is coming soon
my paintings have taken a tern for the better
i auditioned yesterday for part as antarctic scientist....
how can i not get the gig?
i am the antarctic scientist
at the east pole
where the pole dancers live
GAME OVER
track one how easy it all is (coffee song)
marine sleepy floydy
track 2 hounds of love
the kate bush song
nice version i guess
track 3 instrumental of 1
without my stupid voice
i cant cope with all the email n gmail n myspace
i just cannot dedicate so much tyme and electronic blechh
i get like 100 emails a day
i answer most urgent
the rest drift behind
people get angry feel ignored
sorry
im spending 2 hours a day on blog
its killing my shoulders arm n now knee
no time
the computers swallowing my time
makes me restless
gives me headaches
makes me feel sick
been doing self portraits
scarlet comes in and says
i like your daddy
i say
no i like your daddy
she says i like your daddy
theres a portrait of ricki
i like your ricki she says as she leaves
tonite gigging at opera house
reciting 2 songs
huh?
yeah
lets see what happens...
full report tomorrow
thank you to spate of generous subscribers
people you are very very good friends of the time being inc
had a nasty bit of argy bargy just now with someone close
my anger (again) consumes me
despite all the other bullshit i write (about)
my anger is still a fucking barely concealed monster
constantly slipping his shackles and slathering mad
anybody reading this
PLEASE DO NOT ATTEMPT TO "FUCK" WITH ME
i cannot control myself
i am willing to argue straight n negotiate
but now at this advanced age of almost 54
(thats right, add them years n weep!)
i cannot tolerate any childish malarkey
or unnecessary friction
dont drive me around in 3rd gear with the handbrake on
or im gonna boil
just like my car
falcon experts please come to my aid here
my car doesnt have a leak
but SOMETIMES but not others
it boils and the fluid comes spurting out some place
i cant see
othertimes..no problems
advice?
weather here very sultry
storm coming in
feels like my head
here i am
stevie killbee
poet idiot space rocker artist player singer blogger veg
ok they are my gigs
but not fuckin' arguments n nyah nyah nyah n
killin the goose that laid a golden blog
or looking my gifthoarse in the bloody gob
anyway
i gotta lotta things on the boil (bad choice o' words)
n i aint done yoga
gotta pick up the kidlettes etc
scarlet hurt her hands playing with a cactus
and shes still miserably waving them round at me
and im afraid my eyesight is dimming sufficiently
that i cant see the small spines remaining in her hand (if any)
painkiller is coming soon
my paintings have taken a tern for the better
i auditioned yesterday for part as antarctic scientist....
how can i not get the gig?
i am the antarctic scientist
at the east pole
where the pole dancers live
GAME OVER
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