recipe for tasty snacks

one cup of diced dices
one teaspoonful of steel
one pot of luck
one green bottle hanging on a wall
one empty place
one little box of angelfruit
two surprise packets
a pinch of a small childs cheek
three shakes of a mermaids tail
a list of wishes
half a jar of snakemilk
add numbers as desired
stir in some trouble
deadmans tears if required
more vodka?
take away the fruit you first thought of
sing something to the mixture
look out the window...has your neighbour gotta new car?
think about your cousin sam for a while
how are your nails?
throw in some gossip for fibre
simmer simmer!!
milk it for all its worthwhile
let off some steam with the "boys"
let it dwindle
let it cool its heels
chuck it in
throw in the towel
desiccate your banana lovingly
slice the ball
chop up some tape
heat seeking missile
warm day
put crims in the deep freeze
sizzle your zolt
prime your rib
protect your flanks
cream your fat
spice up your life
add tomato source
prepare salad, dressing
silence screaming carrots
bludgeon the turnips
say goodbye to the swedes
froth up the bubbles
tickle the woofle
topple the commies
any sprinkle ?
drizzle caramel on the wet streets
lashings of whipped sailors
fire your oven
turn on the world
shimmer your crackle
undo your men you
fry your brains with a little acid
cook your own goose
hoisted on your own lightly basted petard
tremble with awe
add the adders
fricker, see the southern chick N
do your block
throw a tanty
throw in an extra track
dont burn the ice
dont let the tiny sausage fizzle out
remember to grease the colander
two drips of lemon deuce
turn circle to 360 degrees
some icing, sugar
im home honey
does it taste, tart?
drop in the thingies
serve your master
serve your self
serve the net
garnish their wages
use sulk n paper if needed
wrap about injustices
good for nightclaps or pick nicks
unavailable in butt, a scotch
avoid broken blenders
use only free strange eggs
use your time wisely
time being recommends only time being products
time being cooks with non aluminum pot
time being stays at time being hotels
time being appears courtesy time being gore-may inc
time being flies trans ttb
time being likes to mention his own name
products supplied by mitry bros n. bondi
russell kilbey appears courtesy of doctor hegyi
owen money appears to bee broke
captain cook a sandwich island
spear n arrow mint, jamesy
satan recommends devil foods cake products or "go to hell"
never eat or mock duckling puig
doodles should be served raw
now
bon apetite!

twillies exeunt

despite my serious attempts at hedonism
the evil day has arrived
the clocks never stopped ticking them minutes away
even yesterday tho we still arguing
elli comes over and starts explaining to me
what a bohemian is
did you guys know that bohemians
(these days)
*avoid work
*smoke pot
*wear loose or floral clothing
*burn incense
*follow exotic eastern religions
*hang round in coffee shops
wow thanks elli for the lesson
no no no daddy
nowadays
theres also these rich people
who are just pretending to be "bohos"
but are really the "straights"...
hmmm no kidding
well ya learn something new everyday
apparently the twillies rented a hotel room last nite
for their final sydney fling
apparently minna is quite smitten with someone
elli maybe too much in love with herself
to give her heart away
she has certainly taken my rampant egotism
and given it a 2008 girlie twist
both of them are stunningly beautiful
slim and svelte
the shape of the heads
their jawlines
the high cheekbones and
wide set apart eyes
i temper everything with the knowledge
they both still have syringomyelia
or however you spell it
elli has a tiny scar at the base of her head
i mustnt judge her too harshly
for her bubbly vivacious style
i never had a bloody big cyst pulled outta my head
when i was just 15
minnas is still there ...being observed
they never talk about it
so i dont know how they feel
can i blame them for their need to "live it up"?
i just hope they dont fall into any of my old ways
attempting to do that
attempting to run from all the demons plaguing me
well drugs n drink never stop those demons
in fact they give em more momentum
they fuel the bastards
running from pain....ha ha ha
its a fucking fast runner , pain
it always outstrips ya in the end
anyway
blah blah
(sound of old rocker choking back a sob)
at 4pm today
the australian experiment is over
not only that
but scarlet adores karin jansson now like an aunty
we cant walk up the street where they were living for a while
of course in many ways scarlet looks like a little elli
so it wasnt hard for karin to get sucked in
but theyve struck up a wonderful friendship
and scarlet gets so excited to see her
oh boy its gonna be real tough
it aint gonna be easy
no no no
they turn seventeen next week
jesus
anyway
as my mothers husband said when he first saw em
after they arrived last year
in his coventry accent
"all the boys in sweden are having a year off, are they?"
ok
boys in sweden
the year is up
get ready
the twillies are back!

just treat em good....ok?

farther hood

being a father is a tough gig
i know some of you are about to be
or have recently become one...

being a man has its rewards
we dont need to go into all that here
eventually if you keep havin' sex
you'll probably end up being someones father
this gig comes with no duty statement
this gig is mostly improvisation from day one
the only father i can compare myself with truly is my own
in many ways my father was a superior father to most
he never drank or took drugs or got out of it, for one
he never beat the kids or his wife
he never complained or sat around analyzing the whole thing
(a la moi)
he was warm and gentle and pretty cheerful
he worked very hard to give his crew a good stand-dad of living
he wasnt a hands on type dad in many ways
he didnt change diapers or give kids baths
he didnt get you dressed or make you breakfast
he didnt read your school report and do anything
he was kinda detached i guess in some ways
why do men get detached?
its sad but true that many men
get kinda driven from their own homes by their families
heres some stuff about men i have observed
most of us dont like n eventually cant tolerate
a load of kids screaming and playing and hopping about
i know i cant
i know my dad couldnt
and most blokes i know cant either
mothers seem less irked or agitated by their offsprings racket
than the fathers
how often do you hear about someones dad
who has a "shed" where he likes to hang out?
everyone has a little laugh
oh men and their sheds...
you think men like to hang around in sheds
like as if there were empty houses n empty sheds
we would gravitate towards the sheds?
the guys are in the sheds or garages or dens
because the family have driven them there
its where its quiet
its where they can relax
away from the incessant carryings on of the kids
thats right
the kids racket can grind you down
that lovely baby you hold in your arms
will one day be runnin' about
falling on your head
kicking you in the balls
jumping on the furniture
and demanding all kinds of things
how many many hours have i sat in a park
watching kids running around
pushing swings and kissing hurt elbows and knees
how many diapers (nappies!) have i changed
how many nights up n down with kids
how many times has my heart been in my throat
when my kids have been sick or in danger
how many times standing in a baby pool with em
how many times dropping off n picking up from school
yeah thats right
even hugely massive rockstars like me
doing all this drab stuff
for the kids
for the family
doing all this stuff youre expected to do
by society
by the mothers
by the children
out of duty and love
out of honour
a man must try and do his best
now i have not been a good father
i have not been ideal
i have been neglectful
i have been intoxicated
i have been absent
i have been selfish
i have been angry
i have constantly put myself before the children
did what i wanted or thought i needed to do
in this way my father was superior
he tended to sublimate his own needs for those of his family
although he never did many playgrounds
i guess my mother n father had unofficially delineated their gigs
she did the hands on stuff
he provided the resources and was the rock
although my mother sometimes ran the show too
these days its all mixed up
mummies bring home the bread
and daddies talk pram technology at kindy
whats wright or wrong?
how the hell would i know?
people say oh steven youre a good father
oh yeah! you should see me in full flight
swearing and cursing and using silly words
acting like my own dad did when we got him riled
you know all that
i wont have that bee-havior not in this bloody house !!!
anyway i never thought i'd be doing all that
but i do
and whatsmore i enjoy it
i realize now its a strange way to get close to that long dead dad
to imitate him
roll his words round on my lips
as i chastise these little female versions of myself
albeit much sweeter nicer than i ever was
everything goes full circle
this is natures way of provoking thought
the child is father to the man
archetypal paths we follow
my relationship at the moment with 16 year olds not good
we dont seem close at all
they seem ultra-detached from me
they seem angry and deliberately distant
i confront my many defects esp. during their childhood
and i am astounded
i mean as father i was pretty useless in many ways
i was not dependable at all
not in small ways or the big picture
they have reasons to be angry
yes thats true
they dont seem to want to talk about it either
i mean
im not real anxious to
i would tho' if it'd help
but they dont seem to want much of anything from me
i did some checking round with other fathers of teenagers
one guy says his kid didnt talk to him for a couple of years
before coming "good":
"i thought he hated me
he dissed me in front of his friends
he took money but wouldnt converse
then suddenly at age 19 we are best mates again
stick it out it'll pass"
some women tell me they went through anti-father phases
in their teens
and anti-mother too
but the mothers always seem to have this other connection
maybe cos they actually carried n bore the kids
the mothers often become mediators
between grumpy oldstyle dads
and rebellious nu-style children
the mother is somehow more in the picture
she loves n understands the kids at an organic n cellular level
not so easily can she say
go and never darken my doorstep again!
fathers are more easily spooked by their kids
fathers have more trouble forgiving and forgetting
funny thing
i never met one guy who wanted to be a father
before he actually was
men dont sit around dreaming about being fathers
they answer no biological clock neither
they become fathers when the mothers decide it
and they then find out what theyre made of
most of us fall short
its a very hard n in some ways unrewarding gig
no turning back
it will also bring you joy and pleasure
there are many variables
itll be different for everyone
some more pain than joy
even differing from child to child
one kid might be your ray of sunshine
the other a dark cloud you labour under
what can you do?
persist
n
maybe start thinking about that shed
big daddy out
twillies fly home tomorrow

no reason to get all excited

the being, he kindly spoke
there are many here among us
who think this blogge is justa joke.....

i am i am i am
the suggester
the synapse surfer
the oddfather of ramble
the psychedelic bricklayer
the grey eyed thief of hearts
the brotherman from the othertime
the motherfuguer
the learned fool
the oldest teenager alive
the frecklefaced freak from welwyn garden creek
the trans skanda knave with the identi-gals
the dilf
the hermit of north bondi hollow
the most improved
the immodest one
the phonographic priest S
the telepathetic king of hopeless dope
the rider of stars
the wholesaler of holes
the pathfinder
the delver (in spades)
the rude daddy with yogic velocity
the cold water painter
the grim receiver
the welding singer
the bass preyer
the loco moses
the day n night tripper
the undersigned
the fixer
the backed awe man
the unknown lover
the playing man t'is
the deep mover
the returner
the intoxicated fox
the manly panther
the sideslinger
the saint who is no saint
the beggar and the chooser
the maker of girls
the grander delusion
the fiendss friend
the describer of fogs
the way not to do things
the frail failure
the olde boy
the half human
the taker
the dream tongue man from a golden land
the dissed allusionist
the new dante
the next big slim
the dog poseur
the charlatan bastard
the memorizer
the off white elijah
the swinging faller
the anti-clause
the beatific bozo
the washed up dish
the micro celebrity with the macro ego
the hastener of dreams
the fastener of inklings
the capturer of thin air
the describer of mist
the deadmans hand
the realest thing
the fisher of songs
the catcher in the wry
the ironic whitesmith
the bangin' gavel
the double shocker
the splitting image
the pleasant plucker
the quick and the delayed
the bad thinker
the consolation of the lonely
the clever bugger
the smart alec
the outsider
the venerable veteran
the vintage whine
the headonist
the so-ing machine
the gatherer not the hunter
the town crier
the open gate
the torn pocket
the stealer of sense
the up and the down
the midnight planet
the g string bender
the hammer of the gosh
the sonic anathema
the gyptian gifthorse
the proddiggle sun
the legal tender trap
the earthwalker
the eater of good things
the voice of the lazy
the virgoan
the hawkfaced hawker
the big fella
the little ninny
the wanderer
the being in time

you see
a loved childe has many names
i am i am i am

the real story behind "was there ever talk of love?"

as most of you now know
we recorded an album between heyfish and starday
that never got released
it was called
was there ever talk of love?
and it was gonna be on warners spin off label
voodoo records
thats right
of course i know most of you have the bootleg by now
i hear its easy to come by if you know where to look
but several people have come undone pursuing it
so emptor cave....is that latin?
does it dye its mustache black?
anyway back to wtetol?
i had been living with billy idol for a while
and hanging out in l.a.
with the cult and guys like that
guys who'd been in the sex pistols and stuff
warners had accidentally slipped the church a million odd bucks
and i thought it was our golden handshake...
i grabbed my share and i was living it large in the canyon
no kidding
joni mitchell used to feed my axolotls for me when i went on hols
i dated that chick from melrose place or whatever it was
through her i got into a coven where we worshipped spirits
and practiced sorcery
wow!
standing in my cowl surrounded by the celebs of the mid eighties
that child star whatsername
i saw rock hudson there i think
and a few other quite famous guys
incredible days!
during that same period
while round at a certain journalists house
i took an experimental substance that we had obtained
through the journalists wifes brother
who was a doctor in the military
but he also liked to turn popstars on
anyhow this stuff didnt even have a name
no name just a number # 79
you rubbed the stuff on your wrist
and hey presto!
at first i assumed i had not been affected
and i wandered off into this huge tarzana garden
under a sickle moon and the hazy californian sky
i was struck dumb with fear
when They contacted me
i first felt Them as music
music wild deep and urgent
and utterly inhuman
incredible impossible music
music you would weep for joy if you heard but one stanza
music to make you cower
music to make you march
and the words
in some alien language
in some universal translator
in some way the most tender most violent poetry
poetry with colour and fragrance and flesh and spirit
i immediately began to make mental notes
phrases melodies etc
my impressions i mean
i could never remember or reproduce the real wonder
#79 had tuned me in to Their sphere of influence
i began receiving transmissions from that time until early 87
most of the music on wtetol? was from those transmissions
i arranged some more #79 and i secretely spiked my compadres wrists
(with disastrous consequences)
it was around this time i began seeing monsters in swimming pools
alone at the beverly hills hilton one night
i chanced upon a swim in the pool
i was beset upon by a strange tentacled phantasm
and rescued by 2 guys i now realise were neil diamond n willie nelson
they took me to some place in the hills
where i met prince charles and madonna
(who were having a secret fling)
the party was being hosted by phil spectors little brother inch
inch spector uh huh
he was to produce wtetol?
although how could i possibly know that
using some extraterrestial technology i was healed
although many freckles appeared all over my body
(compare to pre starday!)
i was later horrified when inch and our keyboard player billy
were arrested for trading production secrets with the soviets
but it was never proved
anyway you guys all remember
how voodoo records collapsed being implicated in some phony eclipse
how the tapes went missing in the bermuda triancle
(gees it sounds like a sci fi storey!)
how shorty messhuggah who managed us briefly got offed
how They transmitted utmw but i got it mixed up
how #79 became a brief street sensation
before being blamed in the death of actor lake byrd
the doctor in question
later turned up as governor of nevada for a while
was also dick cheneys golf caddie until a mysterious accident
(involving a niblick!)
which ended his career
billy idol took # 79
and mentions it and me on the track
the fatal sure
which came out on voodoo records in brazil 86/87
one member left the band briefly to cope with his #79 traumas
one member remained unaffected
and one member was never the same again
me...?
i was hauled before congress
i was debriefed and sent back to australia
parts of my personality were erased
but my supervising torturers also slipped me MEMORY
a then new treatment for metaphysical delusions of grandeur
end of steve kilbey mark 1
several people disappeared
several more reappeared as presidents and popstars
the wheels were in motion
but what about
wtetol? itself
ah why bother...?

youve already heard it, aint ya?
cmon...its everywhere
i picked up my copy in a street market in mongolia
there it was
with the cover by warhol n everything
(cost the warner brothers a small fortune)
peruse the songs on this cheap cassette copy
yep thats it alright
was there ever talk of love?
ha!
what a story!

monday monday

boo!
here i am
chirpy n cheeky
eyes down n lookin'
every child player must win a prize
readers of the time being not eligible for this prize
5 cents redemption if in s.a.
not recommended as a food substitute
the time being contains no rda approved substances
the time being is not affiliated with any other beings or times
not intended for home use
harmful by inhalation or contract
if contract occurs sikh medical add vice
not suitable as flotation device
naughty bits not included
not souled separately
not available in non participating uni-verses
the prologue.......
(appearing kind permission carrere records)
starring steve kilbey as clock gable
in the re-make of
gone with the mind
and scarlet o'woofle as a georgian bint
eve kilbey appears as a pier
aurora kilbey appears as a piers peer
elli n minna as a pair of pears
dick ploog appears as nick ward
nick ward appears as nigel murray
nigel murray appears to have vanished
baby grande appear at a school social near you
an apple a day keeps jehovah away
check overhead beings
malcontents may have shifted during flight
help im being held in australia
always christmas never winter
im lost on the obscenic drive past the fruity trees
steve kilbey disappears as himself
painkiller coming august 2032
(still a head of its thyme)
the new church album entitled to do what it likes
the new church album called while you were out
the new church album named its dog rover
the new church album now officially
expect deloites on yer tushe
expect de tours
further attempts at edenic re-entry were fruitless
angels crossing! drive slow
no parking between 1 a.d. and 2012
so long and thanks for all the microfiche
may contain traces of shellnuts
may cause hysteria in timid guinea pigs
may cause drowsiness if taken with 5 valiums
may react with oxygen
may contain traces of martian viruses
may contain its enthusiasm
then came the last days of may more
may be lethal if combined with strychnine
may cause amotivational sin-drome
may cause aerodromes
may cause prevaricated vains
may lead to a lead
will the real harry flowers please use osmosis
may lead to floral attributes
may lead to depression if taken with torture
torture not recommended for nursing mothers
or elderly codgers with dicky hearts (but vice versa ok)
my brother russell not mentioned in this blog
hitler was a vegan n smoked dope n wore paisley
he played a gibson les paul bass and owned
the thirtieth anniversary edition of ziggy stardust
jeff beck married chrissy hynde and they adopted brien
steve kilbey appears to be confused
may contain traces of humanity
may have already won a no-prize
complete with resort consolation price
and free packaging fasteners
not the same ones as used by captain permission
not the same ones as previously featured
not the same size as they appear in your mirror
nightfriends may not be available in some states
some states may not have required legal flavours or sopht-ware
some kilbeys contain traces of peanuts
please fasten your kilbey
please make sure your kilbeys are in locked down position
please dispose of your kilbey thoughtfully
unauthorised kilbeys are a crime
report any suspect kilbey near you
the use of kilbey causes dizziness and palpitations
must be over 18 at least
must be higher than this line
do not ride kilbey unaccompanied
do not point kilbey towards eyes
do not use more than 2 kilbeys per 24 hour period
if paisley shirt is tampered with do not consume
kilbey not recommended for people
this product contains kilbey
see your doctor (especially if hes nice to you)
no kilbey testing
no kilbeys were harmed in the writing of this blogge
kilbey was blown in my face
says irate anti-decriminalization uk mum
kilbey not welcome here says antarctic committee
kilbey?
said queen elizabeth
not one of my favourite subjects...
OFF WITH HIS KILBEY!!!

back less

return of the prodigal being
finding it hard to take a trick
the universe tells me i'm off course in many little ways
ears ring on n on
but i keep listening to loud music
ive blown 3 sets of ipod headphones...
lungs getting bad
must stop smoking
its no good
i need a long rest
everythings driving me crazy
everybodies got suggestions i cant follow
i can paint n write stuff but i cant organise anything
have a sad sunday breakfast today
i made pears
everyone comes over one last time
elli seems angry with me all the while
i have that effect on people
i'm aware that it happens but powerless to stop it
pushing 54 and looking it
new lines appear on my face
wait theres been a mistake
i was s'posed to remain at 18 forever
my kids all do the opposite of what i expect
im too weak with them
then suddenly too harsh
i say the wrong things and upset them
i still speak before i think
been doing a lot of yoga to counteract drugs and age
i feel very flexible and i certainly have a spring in my step
i go up n down
today i suddenly felt that bondi wasnt my home
and that i hardly knew my family
like i'd been set down in the wrong story
my street seemed sandy and alien
the trees were not the ones i thought i was familiar with
the houses seemed bereft of life
the weather was blue and bleak
the sun had no warmth yet it burnt
i sat on my porch
some of my plants are dying but i dont know why
it seems like ive let it all slip through my hands
my time my youth my golden days
ah sweet autumn of my life
moving into winter
still with my youthful preoccupations
peter pot and pan
i went to a party but didnt stay long
peoples voices hurt my ears when they yell
all my jokes fell flat
i cant concentrate when people talk to me
i saw clyde bramley
reg mombassa
lindy morrison
amanda brown
dave mason
david lane
and quite a few others
i nibbled at cookies and had some hummus
nk n i shared one corona
the doodles go through a noisy period
lots of fighting and yelling plus scarlet squealing
need a holiday
havent gotten away now for so long
but cant afford to fly anywhere
and everyone cept me gets carsick
so.....
i long for some peaceful meadow ive never seen
thoroughly sick and tired of me
all my cock-ups n my checkered past
struggle to paint
struggle to swim
struggle to believe
my deafness plus my dopiness is making me into
an archetypal fool
i cant hear the stuff that people mutter anymore
the stuff that makes em all snigger snicker
a thousand and one gigs still playing in my screaming ears
now arent you glad you waited two days to read this?

due to computer injury no blogs for next 2 days.......ah you can make it....

strange days have found me

a period of flux
influences wax n wane
next friday the swedes fly home for good
today is a teacher strike
is that like a lightning strike
the kids are at home all day
was gonna take the little buggers swimming
but its kinda windy n chilly
(it is after all nearly winter)
have sent off all my paintings for exhi in ohio
i believe while im certainly no rembrandt
that a certain kilbeeish style continues to emerge
minna sat down n did some painting for me last nite
she painted over the top of some patterns i had
here i said getting up from my chair
you can paint in this quadrant of the painting
i'd done some pastel stuff
i thought shed fill in my lines
but she started to just paint white splodges on top
at first to my complete horror
then some blue splodges near the white ones
whether an act of bold genius
or just a half thinking response
minna had created something incredibly new within my painting
a new texture i never would have thought of by myself
you see i had locked myself out of that parameter
i hadnt even thought of superimposing something on my pattern
after all the pattern was there to be followed right?
the most simple thing
revolutionizing my painting in its own tiny way
these
these are the very things i was exhorting us towards the other day
she thought outside my narrow box
and in the most obvious way
she changed my approach to this thing
the thing itself isnt important
the important thing with your art n poetry n songs
is to question every single element n parameter that you have
why why why
why should a song have cymbals?
a poem twice as long or short than you normally write?
limit yourself to 2 or 3 colours
unlimit yourself by throwing everything in there
use archaic words
use technical terms
find the beauty in every day phrases
(deluxe locations just near completion)
play your guitar with a blowdrier
make all the white bits black
dont use adjectives
imitate somebody elses schtick
be the opposite of somebody you hate
use something youre not familiar with
remove something from the piece
take every other snare drum beat out
start singing in a different spot than you normally would
steal stuff n disguise it as your own
spend time on details
be rough n ready
enjoy and forget yourself
actively strive for excellence
say to yourself
this piece im working on is gonna be fucking amazing
and then actualize it
follow through all the way down the line
and if that means you gotta paint tiny dots for a week so be it
if it means erasing that lousy bass part that so n so did
and hes gonna get upset but the songs sounds bad..so be it
if it means refocussing re-energizing
if it means having a well deserved break from your work
if it means never overriding your hearts true voice
if it means concentrating with all your mind n losing yourself
suffer for your art?
ha ha
is that what it takes....
as long as your art dont make others suffer
are you any good, boy?
i think so sir...
then get out there son and do it!
yes sir!

steve kilbeys cool people

1 : KLK
ah mysterious academic philanthropist has been making the
church possible for 10 years now
thats right
no klk =no church
after putting up with our incredible malarkey
including me in the bad old days of the gear
he has financed or partly financed everything we do
for a long time
why?
because he believed in our music
whats in it for him?
nothing
now hes just done another favour for me n nk
and we are deeply grateful...
next time you look at after everything or uninvited or whatever
imagine a bloke dipped his hand in his own pocket
to make those records possible and send all your blessings
in the direction of KLK who is literally our saviour
2 martin kennedy
been listening to winter dreams and fall
(2 separate records)
by all india radio
such lovely lovely records
so incredibly happy that ive done an album with him
mk just has that indefinable "it" when it comes to music
he has forged himself a completely individual sound
instantly recognizable as soon as it comes on
i ve been painting and listening
and falling deeper into these records
simple but poignant
kennedy is like rocks jm turner
painting in soothing fogs of sound
never abrasive or discordant
always subtle things percolating away somewhere in there
kennedy is a modern master of the ambient genre
taking the most simple elements
and blending them into gardens of lovely sound
i seriously rate this man as a composer
he is world class
youre gonna love kilbey n kennedy presents...

well folks
i ran outta time
tomorrow i'll be back with more cool karacters
my generous subscribers...you are always in my heart
and i thank everyone who likes my blogge
sk

gifthorse

hello
nk bought goldfrapps new album yesterday
oh its very lovely....very lovely
steeped deeply in the beatles
its a dreamy creamy melodic techni n sepia colour trip
a dvd came with it for a song called a and e
ali goldy singing in a forest full of leaves
suddenly these leaf-men jump up and start dancing
scarlet kilbey whose accidentally watching is delighted
oh monsters she exclaims happily
then the trees come to life frugging around floppily
you could see scarlet having a pivotal moment...
when the video stopped:
play the monster song again she says
yes this 4th album is their best i'd say after one days listening
some sublime melodies abounding
some weird place where childhood and nascent sexuality intersect
(a very tricky area)
sample :mahogany titties that live on n on
(my spell check says ive misspelled titties (ha ha ))
but the sexuality is imbued with some kinda detached buddhist thingy
the whole thing is like a memory very watercolour very warm n hazy
all of this is achieved thru copious use of mellotron
such was the beatle boys impact upon music
that the mellotron will often be always associated with them
the mellotron (some of you may know this)
was invented in the 60s...very revolutionary n brilliant idea
a machine was built...a mechanical contraption, a keyboard
which consisted of a number of playback heads
which would play a small 7 second loop of tape
when its key was depressed
the mellotron company then recorded
some beautiful and very characteristic sounds
imagine they take , say, the flautist
he plays a C for seven seconds
they record it and transfer it to the little loop that
will play that 7 seconds of C flute when the C key is depressed
after 7 seconds the little loop needed to rewind
so it could play again
just like a cassette tape but much much shorter
ok so the mellotron company records
all the instruments
solo and together
vocalists n choirs
pianos ...everything
so now for the first time ever
a single keyboard player had an entire orchestra or choir at
his fingytips
mellotrons were not that stable live
the tapes would get stretched and get jammed
you can imagine...
after an initial wrangle with the musos union
who said (wrongly or rightly?)
that the m-tron would take work away from real musos
the mellotron was taken up and used very much by los beatles
its on a lot of the psychedelic stuff esp the flutes on strawberry fields
the moody blues gave it a caning on almost everything
walling up their sound with slabs of m-tron strings
genesis are the main m-tron fiends
and probably my favourite users of this wonderful machine
almost everything has it
their widescreen n archaic weirdness not possible without it
listen to watcher of the skies
the intro has about 2 minutes of just m-tron
anyway things going backwards n mellotrons
both popularized by the beatles
and now their very use automatically brings those acid days back
its a bit of an easy trick in a way
but still very alluring
the m-tron has such a characteristic sound i avoided it for so long
only recently succumbing
now its on p-killer and new church n shriek....everything
anyway goldfrapps new album is simply stunning
the video went on first thing this morning
and the woofle came out all bleary eyed
plonked herself down and devoured it again
i like the tea she says
referring to the bit at the end
where will drinks a cuppa
also coming with the excellent vid
is a rather silly n slightly demystifying film
(ha! i should talk!)
showing that strange artists should remain strangely silent
ali goldy comes across
a bit like "whatever happened to baby jane"
gee the album is a corker tho
and the the fact my kids have watched the vid 50 times
means there is room in the world
for a kids tv show set in a forest with walking trees
and talking creatures
but done with a magical aesthetic that grown ups could dig!
if you get the funding im the man to do it....
the last word on goldfrapp from scarlet kilbey
to doodles after turning the vid off
"put my monster back on
put my monster back on...FOR GOD SAKE!"
amen

heard of buffalo

went bike riding in royal national park on sat'day
with brothers
very zen in a way
its very peaceful and calm
but youre rushing along on these sandy stony woody paths
one false move and its all over
so you gotta concentrate
and serious consequences if you dont ....
(i fell off once when ironically i was saying
how you had to have yogic concentration to do it!)
but within the concentration
a calm core builds up
after a while the words fall to the back of your head
and you enter a wordless world of textures and bumps
and reading the track ahead of you
occasionally other cyclists would zoom past going the other way
at ridiculous speeds too
a collision would be disastrous
after all thats why my right eye is more closed than the left
(a bike accident at 13)
anyway i had an amazing time and felt thoroughly invigorated afterwoods
nice to re establish connection with brothers
who after all are my brothers right?
yesterday went to tims with whole fambley
tim and i worked on
so that love may find us
our new 17 minute epic
that puts the fox back in trot
its prog
its traffic
its genesis
its pink fluid
its can and cant
imagine
the church jam for 17 something minutes
pete on piano
marty on bass
me on 12 string acc
tim on drums
then
peter comes back and lays down lead and strings and backgrounds
tim sprinkles mellotron n backing vox
and i come along and put a load of disparate bits n pieces
but voila with a bit of (w)oofle dust
the whole thing suddenly yesterday sat up before our eyes
like the monster on its slab
its two frankensteinian musicians looking on
its like suppers ready meets lowspark of high heeled boys
but with things that only churchy does
its a real beauty and we were both excited
tim n i are getting really good at this
getting a piece of inchoate music and shaping and refining
going with the natural contours the music itself suggests
putting words and backing vox
doing all the tricks we learnt with shriek an afterword soundtrack
i know i rabbit on here
about all these records that never seem to be available
but theres some real treats coming down the tubes to the true believers
this is the best stuff ever
believe me
if it was dismal i'd tell ya
or i'd avoid it
gee whizz our own bona fide 17 minute prog rock epic
(guaranteed with no gratuitous bits)
oh its shaping up to be a goody
mixing in june
oooh you fiends will like this one
meanwhile upstairs from tims studio
the doodles a woofle and a doobs (miss brynn p)
were running rampant
eve (who i now call "the show off person")
was in fine form flouncing about in bathing suit
with a feather boa and a toy headset
ordering her mother around if she wasnt paying enough attention
aurora was armed with mic and clipboard announcing upcoming events
while brynn bounced around dancing and singing
and the creature known as scarlet kilbey
running around like a very noisy headless chicken
in the studio
the racket was of baby elephant proportions
tim also having a rib injury from soccer
(he doesnt want your sympathy!!)
but despite all
plus some jam on toast n strong instant coffee
we hammered out a bloody good days work
and
had a good time doing it
those bloody noisy kids tho'
AAAARGHHHH!!!
nevermind
thatll all be forgotten
and you'll be enjoying
so that love may find us
forever
you read it here first
io ao io

percy veer ants

be obsessed
that focus and determination may be good for you
i was obsessed by pop music
i was obsessed by the hair by the guitars by the personalities
i was obsessed by the record sleeves by the producers by the money
i wanted in
i wanted in
i wanted in!!
at first when you want in
you cant always see youre own way in
you wanna go his way or her way
you see a picasso in a museum
oh i wanna be a cubist you think
you hear the ramones
ok now i wanna be a punk rocker
you read dylan thomas
hmmm now im gonna write in fiddly archaic detail...
this is ok
this is perfectly normal
we are idolising creatures
i love to find people to idolize , dont you
yeah you know bolan was the first
when i completely fell under someones spell
you give yourself up to some artist
whose work fills you with such bliss
bolans records were like drugs
everytime you had em you got high...
the bedroom door closed
the needle would hit that groove
"we are the children of rarn..."
slim lays down on his narrow single bed
its lyneham 1970 but this boy is in some arcadian haven
while i was blissed out and dancing with the nymphs n fauns
another part of me
the sk computer was in overdrive
in my brain a team of scientists was slowly deconstructing t rex
trying to find out why this stuff was so effective
how could we use bolans mojo for our own purposes
like capturing an enemy aircraft
it was taken apart bit by bit
strangely enough
such is the magic of certain great artists
even when you think you can "see" how its done
it doesnt lessen the thrills....
eventually came bowie and kid strange and bill nelson
john foxx and all the others
all different aspects of who i was aspiring to
pop music aspirations are funny things
you trying to get it right on many levels
you gotta look right
you gotta sound right
you gotta say the right things
you gotta choose the right people
you gotta have thick skin
you gotta be cold too
you gotta be harder than you could ever imagine
of course i didnt know any of that
was it my sheer ego arrogance and laziness motivating me
after all i didnt have much fucking chop being anything else
unable to concentrate
physically unexceptional
no people skills
no motivation
no real interests outside music
sullen foppish and poncy
i was a perfect candidate
after all show biz was where they accepted my type
but i drove other musicians up the wall too
i formed bands
did dismal gigs
wrote rotten songs that sounded like the sweet on bad acid
i flounced about in silly clothes dyed my hair etc
looking for myself in there somewhere
my obsession was a raft i clung to
through all those times lifting amps up stairs
hefting drums and p.a.s into vans
paying off loans to the bank for equipment
playing to people who ignored me
going deaf and hoarse
narrowly avoiding electrocution
long drives to places where they hated us
my obsession was a little fire warming my heart
it wouldnt couldnt let me quit
i was like a fisherman with his line in the sea
for 10 years without even a bite
but still i couldnt pack it in n go home
i had no home
rock was my home
my house were the words n chords of my heroes
my creed was the latest reviews in the nme
my garb was the tight pants and high boots of the rocker
my hair was dark n long
my face was starting to look ok
i could play and sing but no one understood that i was any good
i went to england in 1978 and stayed with numerous rellies
i sent copies of my latest meisterworks to every frickin' label
and got a rejection from everyone
i was sure the english was gonna understand but they didnt
i was constantly faced with the thought that maybe i was rotten
maybe i was having myself on.....
for some reason tho' that thought couldnt take hold
i refused to believe i was useless
even tho' it was looking grim out there
i just kept on writing
i kept on writing and i started to improve my presentation
i had thought that such was my genius
people wouldnt mind me singing out of tune
or that the guitars were scrappy or whatever
my demos were like a chinese torture garden
no one coulda listened through the crud to hear the good stuff
in fact eventually i was operating in isolation
my last band baby grande
had kicked me out
and tried to sue me
and make me pay off a p.a. they were intending to keep
i was the singer n songwriter n they kicked me out
my songs were useless
my singing was useless
no gigs
we had signed a deal with emi
but they dropped us after one days recording
thats where i first met ed kuepper but he wouldnt remember
he was doing the saints up at emi at the same time
we had the same producer
any way
no one in the whole world liked what i did
my girlfriend a the time wasnt even interested
only my brother russell understood
and he was 14 or 15....
i was working in a vacuum
still i believed in myself
still i made music for myself
hundreds and hundreds of songs
i loved em n i left em
some lovely songs still in there
forever maybe to be undiscovered
but baybee
although i did not know it us such
i persevered
i was resilient
my belief in myself at a cellular level
the future whispered to me
its coming its coming
i continued to write
if you continue you usually improve
people get put off when theres no progress
i did too
but i still fucking kept on n on on
just for myself
because a real artist cant just stop
i never stopped
i wrote lyrics all day at my "job"
i read the music rags religiously
every last chart and advertisement
i memorised whole chunks of writings which
i regurgitated at appropriate moments
which impressed absolutely no one
but i kept on believing
look
never under estimate luck
in the end i got lucky
it coulda turned out
i was still sitting in a bedroom somewhere
no one ever hearing the songs i write
no one ever reading my words or seeing my art
i was lucky that circumstances finally came together for me
you can help your luck along of course
things got better for me when i moved to sydney
i didnt have ONE friend in canberra
but in sydney i started to meet all the freaks i needed
i'd meet people at the markets
theyd come round n i played em my stuff
my abstract model
insect world
chrome injury
like a ghost
it was late 79
for the first time
i had cats saying
hey man this is rough but its good!
remember what i said about not showing your stuff
to people who dont understand the genre...
if you make death metal dont play it to yer aunty flo
if you do avant garde poems dont read em to the post man
see
you gotta find an appropriate audience or get yer heart broken
so eventually
a combination of luck n perseverance paid off
of course its easy to look back on it now
and see it as such
at the time i was just so hot headed over music
then as the church started to take off
i had a magical transformation
i got skinnier and paler
my hair got longer and darker
i adopted the second hand shop psychedelia look
it was just a stab in the dark
but it had resonance
my group looked like a group
everyone could play
and when ploog arrived the puzzle was complete
nick ward had been shooting us in the foot the whole time
he had demoralized n destabilized us from the inside
plus he was a lousy drummer
he fucking carped on at me n marty all the time
when he was gone we were allowed to become ourselves
so note that well
jettison callously any ninny holding you back
i used to get kicked outta bands the whole time
and i will sack any slacker who thinks hes gonna ruin it for me
of course marty n peter n i argued all the time
but we didnt demoralize each other like nicky the murray ward did
choose your cohorts well
and then we all believed
the 4 of us
we believed vehemently and unquestioningly
we persevered thru thick n thin
we still do
just keep on going
manufacture luck as best you can
ie big cities n interesting friends
vacuums are hard places to work from
but if thats all you got
embrace that void
my isolation in canberra
(from any other groovy likeminded people)
helped me grow and get it together
a more distracting city could have distracted me
see? i turned the bad luck into good luck
accidentally
go with the accidents
go with the flow
what have you got to lose
and when ya get there
to those lofty hallowed heights
tell em kilbo sent ya!
and then hit me with yer biggest cheque
and give praise to the gods of art n music
n send me another cheque
n
keep on keeping on!

i believe in you

i have 2 daughters here
eve and aurora
eve is all intuition
eve was making models of the opera house
with play-dough and clothes pegs at 3
she sits down and she does things
she never questions herself
she never asks can i do this ...she does it
give her complicated instructions tho.....!?
aurora her twin and her opposite
she thinks things thru
this leads to some self-doubt and second guessing
as well as some very pithy ideas
everyone has these 2 sides
one dominating more than the other
me....im an aurora
not enough eve in steve
gee i wonder where she got her intuitive gifts
but i do have the intuition
it struggles underneath the intellect to be heard
nurture the weakest ...be it intuition or intellect
dont underestimate yourself
i find everything in this world is 90 % bluff
so go ahead bluff yourself
i do
i say hey killer bet you cant do a great blah blah now
but look
im churning stuff out
funny thing
the more you do of whatever
the better you (should) get
thats right practice makes perfect
as it must be
when i first starting playing
i was pressing down so hard
my fingers traversed instruments like sausages
i tried to think it all out
remember songs like they were a test at school
i tried too hard i gave too little out
my hands n arms froze up
i still can get spooked playing and freeze a little
no one is immune
anyone can make a mistake
have a good look at the mistakes
is it possible a mistake could contain the seeds of your
great leap forward?
dont show your work or play your songs to ninnies who wont understand
my heart was broken over n over in my earliest days of 4 tracking
i'd play my weird stuff to ninnies who wouldnt know a can record
from a can of beans
if you want feedback avoid people who dont understand your genre
sneak up on yourself
thats right
come upon yourself unaware
and snatch whatever you see from the thin air
i tell you the world is full of things ready to be converted into art
i was painting some clouds on my latest painting
they werent looking good
its hard to imitate natures random patterns convincingly
i look up
blow me down
there are some clouds drifting by
ah...now i see the way it should be
thank you up there
dont despair...its the worst thing
evie ..she never despairs
she just sits down in utter faith
no one has ever told her she couldnt draw something
and she's never told herself
her drawings become more and more ornamental and wild
she just follows them along
seemingly unquestioningly she makes stylistic breakthroughs
one by one the childish things disappear from her work
and start to move in an unmistakable artistic flow
she jumps on Word and starts banging out a beautiful story
Fox with his red flaming eyes and cold heart....it begins
she just follows some dialogue in her head (presumably)
she sings in a lovely voice with vibrato
but again she doesnt think about it
aurora meanwhile sometimes struggles copying what eve does
or doubting her self too much
even presenting her stuff in a more pessimistic way
eve just goes:here dad
but aurora has a bit of a explanation preamble
and an unconfident attitude
yet it seems she would superficially be the more gifted twin
she can analyze art or music more eloquently than eve
but evie has that self belief and thats the main thing
i write this not to write about my children today
but as an example of where you coming from
and how it affects where you will go
you can take almost anything and turn it into something
eve does
she takes pizza boxes and makes little laptop computers for example
whatever elements at hand work with em
dont blame your tools or lack of time
dont blame your art materials...use their cheapness to exploit some new thing
dont blame your dodgy studio...feature its faults
dont get hung up on peripheral stuff
dont waste time arguing with ninnies
if you have a vision , insist or walk out
believe me
people'll try to fuck with your creative trip
jealous people
people with no faith
remain steadfast
yet
incorporate valid suggestions if any
take your 3 biggest heroes
say johnny lennon, rimbaud and vinny van go go
can you believe they were just blokes sitting down
with silent instruments and blank paper or canvasses
before they made that big jump into the unknown
thats right
with only access to the same old ingredients
they just sat down n started
a note
a word
a dab
now take these masterpieces you pay homage to
and dissect em
oh its hard isnt it ?
their brilliance tends to dazzle the admirer
you gotta look long and hard to see how it was done
be aware of techniques being used
see why this has emotional resonance with you
look at combinations and juxtapositions
what are the elements that make these song/poems/paintings classic?
can you imitate ? can you approximate?
is there room in this for your own innovations?
or is this your opposite?
will you work with this as a negative
replacing elements with their opposites?
can you take just one small thing they did and blow it up?
can you imagine what they would do next?
imagine youre one of them
write like them
paint like them
dont weaken yourself with doubt
i really believe that everything i do will be good
and most of it is
dont give up on things right before the breakthrough
but dont waste time on things going nowhere
in your heart of hearts hold a brutally high standard
for yourself and for others
there is room for more good art
people are demanding more good stuff
it hasnt all been done
it can never all be done
the possibilities of art are infinite
its combinations and re-combinations are endless
create
analyze
move forward
pull your idols work apart bit by bit
put it back together your own
listen to the great collective unconscious
respect archetypal forms and shapes
but be prepared to abandon all rules
if necessary
use common sense
dont let art baffle ya
i believe in you

muddle through

keep your eyes open for the smallest idea
it wont announce itself with pomp n pageant
when you find it believe in it cling to it
examine it
what is that inkling in our midst
what is that foggiest notion....?
look at everything
is that my idea?
be on the lookout for something ordinary
something you wouldnt normally even think of as an idea
consider all the variables
can any of them be manipulated
examine every aspect
go thru all the details
rapidly assess and discard all non-suitables
keep having faith in yourself
youre working with all the same elements as anybody else
everything is available to you
the colours
the sounds
the words
the great collective unconscious
your only lack has been self-belief
listen to that hunch
its whispering the key
be imaginative
assume you are the greatest
always searching for new input
gadgets and devices
drugs and moods
disciplines and collaborators
if you dont love it stop right now
who else will if you dont...?
maybe someone....
but better to love from ground up
build it on the foundations of love and belief
believe that the greatest symphony begins with one note
the most incredible painting with one dab of colour
the best story starts with one word..or a title
titles so easy to dream up
imagine your own titles
come on a title is painless
steal a title
get your title in place
you can title last if you want
but if things are slow start with a title
even if you have no other ideas
take your title
why did you pick it?
something buried in there telling you something
some satisfied connexion
maybe you think
oh my title will never be as good as so n sos title
until he uses it
then you'd like it
thats the kind of thinking to avoid
seize your title
embrace it
yes its yours!
its your beginning
its your masthead
its your flagship and vanguard
roll round on your tongue
write it down
print it out
make it go thru its paces
oh yes your own title
just stay with it awhile if you like
try it out on people strangers
pretend that theres more to it
watch their reaction to your title
quickly seize upon those imagined impressions
in other words
you meet x on the train
you say my new work is called ****
watch xs reaction
jump in behind his eyes
what is he seeing
you can almost pick up his thoughts
oh x says
i like that!
sort through his thoughts
anything you can use
any clues where your title wants to take you
sometimes the title is just a launch support
to be jettisoned as you take off
sometimes the title is oblique
cleverly oblique
or meaninglessly oblique
sometimes the title is the heart n soul of the whole thing
sometimes its a name
sometimes its a description
sometimes the 1st thing is an afterthought
when you got your title sorted
play with your variables
play with length
play with speed
play with the edges
play with the key
play with the tuning
play with the technique
play with the brightness
play with the shadow n echoes and obscurations
play with manner matter method
play with your mind
play with your settings
play with the truth
play with yourself
of course
you saw that coming
detect that good idea under all that dross
be prepared to throw stuff away
be prepared to take it back
be not afraid to be wrong or right
be careful
thats correct
take care
do it up properly or itll come undone
trust in the process
muddle through
know when its over
can you afford to drag it out
a slight return
reprise
refrain
when to end?
the poker players dilemma
yours too
not overdone
but not underdone either
finish it good
do it right
dont rush the end
let it take as long as it needs
dont lose interest now youre nearly there
bang
its done
dont look back
move on move on
a new title
start again

fog

a thick thick fog has silenced sydney
on the top floor of a small house
surrounded by whiteness
surrounded by gentle quiet
i open up my mind and let it run free
i dreamt for a thousand years
who am i?
oh so many oh so many
like us all
enfolded encoded
the years like a coil
i am accessing something deep and submerged
something like a land
something where all senses are one
yes there is that place
the disciplines bleed into each other
oh i am only learning
learning so fast
racing the ominous second hand
as it traverses its monotonous loop
the songs write themselves
the paintings paint themselves
the words lay down on this page before my eyes
still the fog increases
pressing down on the marine city
swooping out of nowhere
sounds muffled in its white darkness
the flowers in the garden glow through it
like many incandescent points
machinery vaguely hums
a door slams somewhere
a car accelerates and another breaks
recognizing universal forms now
certain lines certain progressions
of course no real artist can enjoy their own work
impatience and familiarity
my brush glides
my eyes observe
my mind calculates
my mind has to know when to intervene
when to let things flow
the process is like a snowball effect
the tiniest idea will cause a landslide if its true
you can never run out of ideas
even if you live to 54
even if you like me
can enjoy this journey into the future
improve!
that must be my imperative
i must improve
i will improve
i am improving
this is not just my affirmation
i work so hard to improve
ah just like everything
the results for me are slow
but sometimes i'm a tortoise splitting hares
sometimes im the last one to understand
but when i do
i can do so much with so little
a little is all you need
my gifts were never the way i wanted them
my face and hair neither
i was put down in the wrong place
my past lives didnt understand me
something still makes me behave erratically
what are the forces pushing me around
again, the mind must know when to intervene
dont get in the way of magic
but dont let fiascos long endure either
be friendly but beware
the fools think there is no magic left
but its there on every minute level
the fog seems to be losing its grip
the city pops up here and there
the harbour bridge still hidden in the distance
sydney oh such a beautiful city
with its waters and its cliffs
its views its oceans its clouds its blue may skies
stockholm too ...it must be getting pretty there now
elektra and miranda leaving in 2 weeks
we look at each other with a certain resigned sadness now
the feeling of temporariness
i know we will hardly ever speak when they return
turning seventeen in the warm skandic summer
oh the long days
oh the beautiful scents drifting in the country air
lovely blessed sweden never far from my thoughts
my little flat in bastugatan
waking up in the long dark nights of snow
alone in my loft bed before i met natalie
sweden all around me
i wanted to be swedish but i never could be
i never could be anything i wanted to be
i could only be the things i stumbled into
im not even a proper australian
when i get yabbering im usually too much for most aussies
englishmen rightly treat me with suspicion
my freckles my drawl my laconic laziness betrays me
i could pretend to be american but why?
they like me better the way i am....luckily
i have realized something lately
i am not everyones cup of tea
socially musically whatever
i rang up mem the other day
out of the blue
can you believe this guy answers the phone:
killer?
see
the web is tightening
anyway i liked talking to him
he was on my wavelength
but uh
its funny what is it that makes some aussies uncomfortable
i was on the bus with my kids
and i'm talking to em
you know my usual tripe
people all slack jawed around me
listen to the long words he uses to his kids
ok i think
if i'm so smart howcome i'm riding on a bus?
the more i appeal for riches and wealth
the goddess of fortune smiles and waves her head....no!
you have to be unconcerned
you have to be detached
life and maya and the family
a minefield
an obstacle course to negotiate
i love my children
but i love my work
which will i attend
when all children need you
or all children ignore your advice
trying to be the best painter and best father
my kids are incessantly drawing and colouring
they chew through the paper like demons
sorry about all that paper though i guess
see ...eveything is verily a dilemma
many hands make light work
too many crooks spoil the brothel
ha ha
i just made that up
see...
the fog is dissolving in sunlight
the childs wake up
the baby will soon be stomping around
looking wild and disheveled
aurora with her wide bunny face
eve all warm sleepy and husky voiced
the dismal sounds of incessant construction reappear
but the sky is the most royal blue
and the sun is yellow
and now it 8 oclock
the real day begins

powderburns and sunburns

good fortune to my generous subscribers!
jai jai
hail to vishnu preserver
after visit to skin cancer clinic
i was given the all clear
uh huh a million freckles
but touch wood
no cancers.........(yet!?)
you see i got burnt all the time
red shoulders red nose red chest
i knew the whiff of calamine lotion three summers off
i was burnt
i was peeling
they didnt know in those days it was so bad for ya
each time the skin came off more freckles
amazing they let me be such a big star with all these freckles
ha ha ha
anyway the doc was an old chinese gent
he was a real comedian too
as soon as i took my shirt off he said
oh i can see theres nothing wrong with you already
ha ha ha
then he ran this like whitelight thing over me
what do skin cancers glow when this thing hits em?
anyhow
i was worried about a couple of places
on my cheek a weird faded white spot
no thats not cancer you just getting old giggles the doc
then he sees this little knotty scab on my back
its been there a while ...i figured it could be something nasty
no its just a ....(indistinguishable)he said
with the skinquacks thick accent n my ringing ears
i couldnt catch half of what he said
then a real benny hill moment
i thought he said i'm just gonna squeeze it
what? i say
youre gonna bloody squeeze it?
no says venerable olde doctor wong (i kid you not)
not bloody squeeze it ....FREEZE it!
oh
next minute this nasty little (never did find out what)
is getting the frozen treatment
i explain to doc that im pretty deaf
thats why i keep getting it wrong
the doc has a good giggle
boy you in good shape for yer age...you all clear!
i said doc im gonna get out before you do find something wrong
he giggled again
boy you right get out of here now!
so there you have it
it aint got to me yet....that evil wicked sun
but its still not over
now
back to greg dulli
having obtained gutter twins legally
n then blackberry belle n she loves you
n even his solo album
amber headlights
a little less legally
i can only say
im sorry if he nearly ran you over
im sorry if hes a booze artist or whatever
but i gotta say
i love the mans voice n his music
when he hits his fuckin' stride
hes like every huge american hit single you never heard
unstoppable powerful gut wrenchin'
the guitars cut deep
the bass drops away
the high pitched backing vox hit
last night
last night was alright
dulli sneers and begs at once
how can those ordinary words sound new and vital
ah the transformative power of rocknroll
dulli has absorbed the beatles n stones n dylan
and he refilters them
through his engine of excesses
yes the characters in these songs are boozers sexfiends n addicts
dulli is a modern brel charting this seedy territory
but at the end of all that champagne n cocaine and pussywillow
dulli wants to wake up the next day redeemed
dressed in white
like an angel
and then it starts all over again
remember how the gallagher bros were s'posed to be?
edgy mouthy genius backed up with street cred sneer
but actually they were both just thick planks?
dont look back in anger?
dont make me fucking laugh!
look dulli is a mastersongwriter
hes like springsteen if he looked under more rocks
hes like got all that big u.s. fm power
but hes harnessed it to a fleur du mal sensibility
he is the baudelaire of rock
songs from the brothel
songs from the vampires own mouth
the disgust and loathing
then in amazing technicolour contrast
the aching love
the tenderness as the characters crumble and fall apart
is that mark lanegan croaking
ok you fucker time to settle up
lay it down slow them im gone....?
dulli throws away one liners like
not saying its easy to have it all or nothing at all
but man
you gotta hear it
jaded cynical brutal glorious rock
this stuff bleeding all over the place
i give all these records five stars
no dud songs
this stuff is the true spirit of rocknroll
lousiana perches
down n dark n dirty
a can of worms
i tell ya
i'm totally sold on dulli
amen

from the panthers desk

hail to my subscribers!
oh well met!
oh well come!
the generous ones
without any reward
putting hands in pocket
making the effort
helping me out of impecunious clutches
being my patrons
sponsoring this old big cat
from behind my bars of flesh
from within ,this caged creature
paces up n down
thoughts ceaselessly traverse my mixed up mind
i read a story drowning in colours
my brain photographs sounds automatically
i peruse the lists of embarrassments i have been involved in
i churn my perceived enemies names in my minds oceans
i disdain the offered social condolences of those who read my words
those so shallow that cannot grok this slightest bit of honesty
why come to me if you want sunshine every day
has that ever been my strong suit?
bah! you fools
dont peer into my cage looking for ice cream sundae
old and contained i may be but in my heart i am wild
i know the darknesses of our zoological sequences
i bite any hand that comes thru my bars
much to my regret
allow me to roar and pace and whimper
allow my to lick my wounds
allow me to refuse this black water
if you need to laugh
there yonder lie the monkeys aplenty
parrots squawk in the distance
i believe they feed the "straights" everyday between 12 and 1
i believe you can buy a bag of stuff n feed the baby pigs
i believe the snakes can be quite scary
me....i run through my thoughts
i write music and i plot revenge
i remain silent for hours then i explode
my eyes will bore straight through you
i see your soul and i see your ambition
your platitudes fall on my deaf ears
your advices remain unsniffed
you look out for me
but i am in the back of my cage
wheres its black and hot
twitching in some fevered dream
you could never know
i descend down chasms where words give no light
i climb mountains up into pure lit vistas where i see everything
i dream of the circus and its flaming hoops
and i snarl
they whipped me and i clawed at their brandished chairs
i made every mistake, no doubt
let me seethe then if that be my humour
let me be in my smouldering huff
let me growl in my solitude
seek not to admonish me for my ill moods
i who allow this honesty between us
ever seeking the truth of ye olde rat race
giving you thus ever insight
you stand before my bars
you who have paid your money
you
a day
the zoo
electronic friends fiends patrons and voyeurs
i bid thee
fond adieu

load of olde toffee

ah i forgot what i was gonna write
i'm sick of being a genius
guess i'll be an idiot for a while instead
clouds roll across a blue bondi sky
a dismal garage band is out there thumping away
buses grind
distant construction bangs n 'ammers away
my ears ring
my skin feeling cold and dry...is this old age?
my patience is short
my list of things to do is long
my understanding imperfect
still the bull in a china shop
a fragile bull tho'
a mangy panther
a turkey who wanted to fly
a worm who turned too late
descended from a monkey
who descended from a dino
who descended from a little piece of blechh
in some primordial bloody soup
my life is apparently meaningless
the uni-verse is random
everything is an accident
and then someone else put the boot into tom cruise
who cares what religion he follows...he's an actor
its a lovely day anyway
but my procrasti-nation wont let me enjoy it
i am my own worst enemy
as it ever was
i shot off my mouth and blue off my foot
what will it all matter when i'm gone
rhymes easy but reason is harder
my grey eyes will stare sightless
nothing will bother me again
people may say this or that
but what can you do
there seems to be a secret i can never discover
give me untouchability
give me your filthy millions
give me a warm spot in the winter sun
i am ready to be greedy
i am ready to accept my reward
i am ready to sell my left kidney
i am ready to cash in my fish n ships
something always troubling me
i am discontinued
i should be returned
everything that used to be now is
i generate words like taps generate drips
i write songs like you write shopping lists
i cooked up a storm and i predicted the weather
i muddle around with this
i see my characteristic shadow on the wall
i should be a retired colonel from MI5
if my parents had stayed in england
my oh my how my life would be different
i blame everything on heroin
i blame everything on western imperialism
i blame everything on my manager
i blame everything on my family
i leave everything to be desired
i leave everything to my dear catfish the albino sucker
i am no time being
i am no writer
i am no one you could ever want to be
gullible naive lazy and slow
a cowardly bully
no gumption
no elbow-grease
no real balls
no real bullets
no real estate neither n thats no joke
i'd answer the phone if it'd talk to me
lunch had me
swim had me
baby hits the ground running and crying
something weakening my position
i blame dope
i blame booze
i blame nescience
i blame ignorance
i blame long stupid unimaginative liszts
of blaming this n that
i blame miss spelling
i blame the liberal party
and the party that went all saturday night on murrivere street
yeah i'm bitter
bitter this bitter that
bitter whatever i fuckin' fancy
i'm no bing domingo
i'm no gentleman jim
i'm no spring chicken
i am the panther in autumn
a man for some seasons
i am grey eyed blackhearted whiteman
i am not for sale unless the price is right
how far can you throw me
how far can you trust me
how far is it to the sun in inches
where have all the question marks gone?
ah ha theres one!
and a exclamation mark too
mark?
are you reading this
my teachers...where are my marks?
my walls...where are my marks?
my birth...no mark
my water...no mark neither
my bench....ah you can see where this is leading
is that it?
was that a blog?
are you serious?
a further question
how about this?

art decade

if you hit the link stevekilbeyart
you'll find nine new paintings on there
for my upcoming exhi in oh-hi-oh
i realize some among you may groan...
i usually hate it when people move into other" disciplines"
e.g. 'orrible singers trying to act n vice versa
so i guess i should try to get some kinda explanation together
once n for all
now you'll remember that my dad painted as well as played
so there was some precedent for this
i must admit i was quite good at drawing
spending lots of time in class
drawing guys playing guitars n drums
the way some little girls draw horses
i drew bands
later i honed my skills
in doing mean little pictures of the dopes i worked with
in the canberra shiny bums circa 1973-78
wacka wain
ruffhead ryan
ali bear
rod the hawk thomas
bill gunky shaw
all these faces came to life on my blotter from ballpoint pen
i stuck em up on the notice board n i'd get my ear clipped.
during the eighties i made some little heads with clay-mo
but i never really was that interested in painting or paintings
in 2002 after having moved back to aust
jlk suggested i do the cover for freaky concs
he remembered all the little pictures
i did of my mothers then new husband....
so i cobbled up a bit of stuff
using some ideas from my screen printing days
which had consisted of cutting up nmes n melody makers
with a little stanley knife
and using the actual page as a one or two off stencil
eventually john auctioned some off
which led to more people asking for some
so i did some more
and for a little while
people bought em as a novelty
and i just muddled along
accidentally doing something good occaisionally
eventually i started to learn something
gravitating towards gouache n pastel
lucky a few people were buying my stuff...
anyway thats leads us to now
at the moment im painting heavily n furiously
trying to get all the paintings ready
for ohio in june
way to go ohio
anyway
my painting is one thing my music isnt
and thats 100% original
when i do paintings i aint imitating anybody
i wouldnt know how and i cant be bothered
whereas my music is about 50 % public domain
ie
i am heavily influenced by many others
so my latest bunch of paintings all aspire to movement
to vibration
to connection
eyes watch ominously
vegetation twists and seethes
colours rub up against each other in pastel/gouache interzones
the vegetalista is another me
walking through the jungle of my mind i came across him
enclosed by eyes and fiery skulls
the many plants seek succour from light
the vegetalista remains in shadow
his eyes pierce from the murky psyches fog
the light and shadows break down into fractured organic pixels
i try to paint auras and feelings and i mistakenly come up with this
i try to paint ideas
the way i would sing about ideas
my ambition outstrips my technique but i'm catching up a little
i painstakingly pointilistic detail and dot dot dot
the paintings are supposed to represent (re-present) the psychedelic moment
why?
just for the sheer hell of it
its quite safely impossible
but in attempts we come up with great stuff
the actual receding geometrics of dmt are forever beyond my scope
but i like what i do as approximations
so
we get the idea of the colour n movement of the psychedelic vision
rather than anything actual
because actually it contains nothing actual
in dmt download a somewhat fragile me
surrounded by the weird mental pyramids in my head
the colours are all bright
the psy experience is usually vivid
everything is supposed to be oscillating
this is what im drawn to , i suppose
the other bits of life
me playing my bass surrounded by visions of music
someone having a fix in a basement while a tv blurbles on
jims mirror and his jacket of many eyes
rickis multi colour hair
the mona lisa with a swirling magma background
the king of dope
i think these paintings are at least my own
you may find other bits n pieces in there
but unintentionally
this is the stuff i wanna paint
i wanna call up these feelings with art and music
the micro-life
the macro-life
the surreal life
life under the influence of art
believe me these pictures look better in the flesh
theyll sit on your wall n you can get lost in em forever
trying to emulate my songs
these paintings are a little door for you
a door into...
(cue eerie music)
the empty place

divination

blessed be the holy land of usa
for verily my childe
this is the source of rock
the blackmans blues
the whiteys folk
it suddenly mutates
johnny winston oboogie in old albion he catches on
micknkeef in dartford prick up its ears
jimbo in florida ....uh huh something going on
tom verlaine in del-a-where
little stevie k in a car park in canberra
waiting for his daddy
when daddy comes back he dont know his lil slim is changed
daddy i heard the who
daddy i heard a new take
daddy not morose like blues
daddy not preachy like fucking folk
daddy not complicated like jazz
daddy not limp like schmaltz
daddy this is raw and real
daddy im gonna be a rocker
even when i'm older than you are now, much older
i will build my church upon this rock
those guitars
they can shiver and wobble and vibrate and scream
and the drums like a jungle in a auto-plant
and the bass guitar ...will ya listen to that....
son can you make a living plucking that 4 string behemoth
yes father
it was ever my destiny
on my 16th birthday
my first bass comes to me
and i set to
figuring out how i will say
whatever it is i will be saying
i look in the mirror
can a rock star be covered in freckles
i strum my tennis raquet
i put pictures of blue cheer and quicksilver on my wall
leon russell in his top hat leering off my wardrobe
in the darkness of those years
me n fernando drive round canberra trying to crash parties
we buy galaxy cigarettes and jam in peoples garages
5 guitarists all plugged into one amp
the drummer called mark
hes got a pretty sister who goes out with tony haze
whos in a real band
i feel important just standing in their backyard
out the back of the garage is a little room put on
we lounge around in there smoking cigs n reading magazines
i just found beard of stars in a record shop
and in one of marks sisters old teen magazine
is a story on bolan
hes sitting in some english garden on a summer day
far from wintery canberra n my thick jammin' pals
who love the blues but not the rock like me
they aspire to denim n beards n long solos
but now ive found marc bolan i'm beginning to see the light
i gobble up the article
i read n re read it
he looks like a homo says fernando
my mother would hate it if i looked like that
said my half spanish half irish friend
but i didnt care
we went back in the garage
and tried to play some dismal savoy brown blues
shes got a ring on her finger n a ring thru her nose
sang the boys
but they had already started to lose me
i went home and i listened to bolan
his effeminate warble did not seem to disturb me
he was like a faun come to this dull world
and he sang of marvellous things
but he was starting to fuse it to this chuck berry simplicity
ah here were the twelve bars that fernando n angelo n mark loved
but not as some moaning boring old whinge going on n on
but as sprightly ramped up n declarations of intent
not the old i woke up this smornin' n baby was gone stuff
see marc didnt see the contradiction between myth n modern
he just put it all in there
but you knew in yer heart
that in the dark
marc bolan could please the ladies
more than some old grunter singin' the interminable blues
bolan wasnt all caught up in no paying yer dues bullshit either
he fused narnia n rock n corinth n berry n dandy n delicate
he finished songs on strange ominous chords
he had a song called the wizard
and at the end
he was screaming
and his guitar was distorting
and this little orchestra arranged by t visconti
is jamming along
and it was like being at a dionysian rite
(if you were 16 n lived in canberra)
a little later that year
i was sitting in a chair at a party
when some incredible song came on
it was the first time i had ever heard" get it on"
wherein the imagery n berry n sleekness
all came together
in the most perfect song ever
no one had reassembled rocks ingredients like this before
childe, bolan had a number one hit mentioning
the teeth of the hydra...
can you believe the significance of that to me...?
at the same time as i was hearing this new rock amalgam
a girl i'd never met before sat in my lap n began kissing me
this must have imprinted something on me i guess
rock became my mainstay n everything else seemed a waste of time
why did i need to mow the lawn or go to school
when there was rock...?
and all i had to do
was spin the record
and there was marc bolan
ready to take you off to some super eleusinian woodland scene
full of elvish babes and silver plated electric boogie on
and everyone there spoke in mystic poetic jive lingo
and everyone was high on love n magic
and the guitar was king
but always a little strange
like a grimms fairy tale all gone wrong
and bolan drove round in a roller
and he was a millionaire
and mickey finn was the first guy
i ever saw wearing that t shirt that said cocaine
instead of coca cola
and i didnt know what cocaine was of course
but it had to be better than getting bullied at the lyneham shops
by some teen neanderthal in a flannel shirt n his jeering flunkies
i knew in bolans world i would cut a cool figure
but out here in can-fucking-berra
things were bleak n dead for a cat like me
people in canberra in 1971 could not grok a proto-genius like me
it was a crucible to forge my identity in
in london or l.a.
i woulda been a dime a dozen
but here in the a.c.t 2602
i was at the centaur of my own uni-verse
i sat at home
i deconstructed bolans every last whisper
every last bubble of phased distortion
his pronunciation
his choice of instruments
i figured him out
and i figured myself out
and i figured out
that i WAS right
and all them planks in canberra in 1971
were wrong
and i would
aided n abetted by rocknroll
escape canberras tedious monotony
and escape the sludgy seventies
and in 1982
i materialized on a stage in london
at a 2000 people sold out gig
and i actualized my understanding
from the humble beginnings in a garage in dickson
i had sussed out a masters style
and just as he did
i was reapplying it for my own schtick...
in 1982 i visited the tree adorned with flowers
where he died in 77
all that to end up here....?!
bang a gong

sks wild dagga reverie

is it love that makes us rock?
oh i love rock
oh i love love
oh i love drug
lets see now.....
i see baby tapping her feet to the beat
i see her eyes flash
i see lava
elemental right to rock
igneous pop
i love it when the guitars are crunchy and marine blue
timpani rolling in like waves now
the fire that burns underwater
the fire that flames in neptunes green glass
the fire that warms old lucifers slippers
then you must harness yourself
the grind of the great wheel
the planets strain at the bit depth
who can unleash them from their courses
who can channel england
who still has a bus ticket from lemuria
who can rock like a bitch then sleep like dog
my rock is my contradiction buster
i aint afraid of no paradox
i perceived i penetrated and i pissed off
i am animal i am soul
i am obsessed by rock n roll
grow up...i cant
slow down...not me
act your age.....never
what will you do...i will rock
what will you sing...the body electric
what will you say....thank you
what will you expect...nothing
what will you incorporate...everything
yoga and rock....hand in glove
does yoga make us rock
does swimming make us rock
does qi gong make us wok
i reckon achilles was a rocker
young n glorious n golden
dipped in a river of heroin
wielding a gibson les paul
fucking with the "straights" all over the aegean
quarreling over a chick with that old agamemnon
he turned up at troy with his sound and lights
he slew em baby
he brought the house down
live fast he screamed
he reached the chorus ablaze
he hit hades town like a flamin' wraith
boogalooing in the elysian fields with some sexy ghosts
you see rocknroll is eternal
it was re-discovered in the 1960s
fender basses were dug up in south american jungle temples
those cats down in peru were banging out their 12 bars
chewing their coca leaves n stumbling thru louie louie
one million years ago some giant in africa
some winged love god blazing away on a hammond organ
of course he was
rock permeates all times n places
bolan told ya bout the ballrooms of mars
i told ya bout the statues of sharon stone
i told ya how the killer was on the road
yeah thats when i stepped thru jims mirror
yeah i met brian jones there too
and he gave me his blessings as he wanders unseen
through the eucalypts and sycamores
i hang out in laurel canyon with hannibal barker
and he is a savage gutter rocker
he keeps singing in phoenician though
and the child bride sacrifice is somewhat over done
makes me wanna pick up my own plank
and thump away beneath the surface of treble
makes me dream of genie
makes me dreamaround
makes me dizzy with rush
makes my moodswing velocitize
makes my devonsheer t
makes my equal oppa-tunity
makes my resolve harder
makes my green sea go turn a deeper blue
ballerinas guys on motorbikes
a dancing baby elephant
the whole she bang
i wanna conquer some dark continent
i wanna go electric at newport
i wanna hang with the red baron backstage in london
i wanna listen to mozart tuning up
i wanna see genghis khan punch out europes lights
i wanna see vivaldi fire liszt for being stoned again
i wanna see billie holiday on vacation
i wanna score over at scott n janis joplins
i wanna jam with nero at the imperial
i wanna fiddle about with that crazy god-king
i wanna redeem my soda bottles in a gomorrah 7-11
i wanna rock and then i wanna roll over easily
thats enough
thats enough for one day
one wonderful day
day of wonders
everydays
anyday

window pane killer

music....
what is it....
what does it mean to write a song...
the way it all fits together
first there was just a bass guitar
boom boom boom boom boom
it was going
it was pumping eighth notes
nothing very hard
there was a slight anticipation
it was relentless yet a bit sloppy
it sat on its 3 or 4 notes exploring nuances
from out of nowhere white noise appears
its being filtered
it wriggles and pops in time with the bass
snatches of conversation
short wave
pink distortion
movement barely tuned in
the tick tick tick of machine
the drums flail in
bang bang bang bang
electric guitars appear chop chop slam crunch
electric guitars in reverb and echo
like whales wailing
like women weeping
like animals crying
sirens inside a fog
push and push
burn up and disappear
cherish and forget
the instruments work upon each other in synergy
thunder crackles and threatens
electrical disturbance city in the jungle
a piano tinkers on a cavernous emptiness
the bass ominously growls
it swells to mingle with the thunder
the bass swallows itself leaving shards of splintery scrapes
another piano teeters through the background
drunk or falling apart
all sound slows down and elongates
cymbals whistle on into infinity
the piano grows ghostly choirs
things zip past
things in agonizing slowness
all moving towards inevitable silence
that waits at the end of any piece
silence like the songs picture frame
another song begins
another picture in the gallery
a voice sings some words
it doesnt matter what they are
it doesnt matter whose voice it is
everyman sings his own songs
the voice picks up rhythm n assumes a metre
the voice punctuates
it floats over the top
it is apart and a part
voice and music
a marriage of convenience
the voice modulates and drones and intones
the music swells under it and drops away
echoes flurry away and hurry along the grapevine
why does it
why does it do what it does
who decided that it would
it has no meaning only follows internal logic
it does not say what it is
does not announce itself as fact or fiction
the snare fits in the place the kick isnt
the hi hat keeps going regardless
the bass finds the kick
they combine
a melodic punch that hits you in the guts
the voice splits into a pair
something smashes like glass
is this even music
when does music become noise
at what point can noise be called music
the music is processed edited mixed n mastered
a sonic sheen is constructed
the feeling is left intact
the pump of sex
the swoon of drug
the struggle of man
the elation of life
the darkness of death
the possibility of redemption
all inclosed
all enclosed
a fix for a world in pain

shoot up a river with painkiller

engage
lock on
COMPLETION SEQUENCE COMMENCING
@#DRFgg^%%8h**(jIIUUUpopup=true453^^
UUYGGHH%%%4#dee*nnnj(UJU%*$#4b8u
painkiller
launching
initializing fix
this be the deep fix baybee
hold it steady
keep a grip on yerself
god said white hippy moses
white hippy moses saying
are you god or a god?
god say nevermind
give man kind painkiller
alleviate mortal agony
BEGINNING PAINKILLER UPTAKE
START INJECTION
give mankind sweet relief
lay it on them man
HOUSTON WE ARE WITLESS
WE ARE ENCOUNTERING TRANSDIMENSIONAL NAUSEA
PAINKILLER TO EARTH WE ARE BECALMED IN SONIC BLISS
william master of space has interpreted the messages from doggie-star
THEY ARE BEGGING FOR PAINKILLER OUT THERE SIR
god says this is your mission
should you choose to except
space is out there waiting son
space needle penetrates song in space
the vein of darkness gives up its starblood
HOUSTON WE ARE UNSTABLE
HMAS PAINKILLER SIR SOS I REPEAT SOS
captains log : DAY 5
behind the veil there is a sea
only entered into chemically
get me kilbey here in fucking person
i cant sir...he's been all shot up
HOUSTON WE SEEM TO BE SUFFERING BEATIFIC HALLUCINATIONS
good god doctor...how much painkiller has that man had
love missile F 1 11
marine applications
underwater or outerspacer
when you get to the interpenetration...
on these sullen seas
the humble servant of your majesties
KILBEY TO EARTH : send more money
the void aint cheap
HOUSTON TO PAINKILLER : YOUR CAPTAIN IS DEAD
is that what youre suggesting...that i abandon my mission?
no sir...its just that...
well? out with it man!
its just that i lost my virtual virginity to under the milky way sir
CAPTAIN TO ENGINE ROOM : GIVE ME FUCKING EVERYTHING!
for a moment your blood and the painkiller co-mingle
i am i am i am recites the co-pilot the co-pilate
HOUSTON SAYS WASH YOUR HANDS OF KILBEY
in the depths a monster attacked our ship
in the dark heart of oceans space
in shallow pools life was taking shape
monkeys from darwin
painkiller east of eden
and on the 13th day killer created painkiller
and it was good
and he rested
and he said
let there be a crystalline rush
and bee hulled
there was
and white hippy moses was in dialogue with the burning bush
the fire said you will name your fifth daughter scarlet after my hue
the fire said you shall be as a mangy panther to your enemies
the fire said go far from here and give my people a panacea
give them a painkiller!
the thumb increases the pressure
the liquid moves down the barrel
joy is in your sights
ENGINE ROOM TO BRIDGE : valve bouncing in spades, cap'n
a wolfe appears
a filigree diamond filched from a ring
who will win between a wolf and that old panther?
the monster covers us in its tentacles
its huge stinking head rears up to roar in anger
we made the mistake of detonating a dmt harpoon sir
darwin leave that wolfe alone
that christian wolfe, sir?
yes, darwin
and the rosy crucifixion sir?
leave it to banks
HOUSTON : PAINKILLER BURNS LIKE A SPIRIT IN FLAME
i'm dying captain
look homeward angel
forever will last for nothing
file under space travel
AUGMENTING CHORDS BEGIN MINOR 9THS NOW
in next to no-time the mixture charges up your system
it is first felt as weightlessness
it is first experienced as sudden loss
it is first experienced as a sick satisfaction spreading in a warm glow
it is first experienced as a burning feeling at extremities
it is first experienced as an imploding orgasm that steals your heart
it is also experienced as acceleration
a sudden knowledge of nauseating speed
HOUSTON TO PAINKILLER : TOO FAST FOR YOU!!
captain we're burning up
get me kilbey here , sergeant
i cant sir, i'm sorry...he's all broken up
he walked through a volcano sir
hes fried
hes blasted
hes only talking to his family
EARTH TO ANYBODY : HELLO?
SOMEBODY IN DEEP SPACE : YES?
GOD : IS THERE ANY REPLY?
god is that you...out here in the black corridor?
yes child
god can i have a painkiller now?
where does it hurt, childe?
here and here and here and....oh! everywhere..
then listen childe
if you love chance-send-ental music
if you love the throb of electrick base
if you desire the sick kick of drum
the cut of guitar
the nostalgic dust of mellotron
the mixed up words the anti-message
the anti-concept the anti-neo
the anti-"straight"
the anti-n-uncle
houston:we have lost our capital letters...mayday heyday mayday
god : and so the weary traveller turns home
good lord doctor use that painkiller man
our boys in the suburbs are screaming in tedium
gods garden was called barbara eden
i am your humble serpent said darwin
jehovahs pick for this week :ITS .......PAINKILLER !
darwin: painkiller
houston: painkiller
dallas : more painkiller
killer: painkiller
polinski: givem some painkiller you swabs!
spaceman powles: painkiller....uh huh
graham lee: let it slide evilly
william master of spacetime: i am your master
shortwave transmission begins here
aliens: painkiller
denizens of parallel universes : painkiller again n again
its official
coming soon
depending on what you mean by soon
muse: do i get a line?
no!