The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

another head shot cos YOU ASKED FOR IT!

ricky maymi is the rockers rocker

he plays all the instruments

he understands all the fundamentals

hes a harsh taskmaster

he whips stuff into shape

he had warned me that my controlled explosion hoffmen

were rocking harder this time round

back in perth n freo we’d been very kinda restrained

energetic n stuff

but musical director ricky

was keeping himself n the boys from cockburn on a tight leash

and then ricky musta thought

we playing a shoegazer psychedelic  club in the middle of melbourne

so he unleashed himself n them crazy hoffmen in spades

and then he fucking cracked the whip on me

theres not too many geezers could force me to rehearse long n hard

only mwp and ricky

we got to the club

twice through the whole fucking list

we rehearsed for like 3 n half hours then did the gig

adrian hoffmans got dark hair now n he attacks the bass with confidence

i didnt listen to him all night

can you imagine that?

he just fucking effortlessly nailed it properly

you felt him but you didnt really listen because he was so good

thats right

sometimes the best bass is so right on you dont notice it

shaun hoffman on drums is a fucking powerhouse

i said you used to be controlled explosion

he said yeah….

i said now the controlled is gone….!

and he laughed n said  something about it being rickys idea

ricky has unleashed the kraken

he himself is loud mean and totally rocking

impeccable stuff

he was like a wall of music at my side

he was like directing the whole thing

a truly unique character hotheaded and filled with boundless energy

you cant fob him off with half arsed excuses

i tell him i need a break

he says i think you should have a break after this next song

after the next song

i say i need a break

he says you should have a break after this next song

anyway we hit the stage

i start singing like bob dylan kinda

hoarsely declaiming the words angrily

i hear my voice boom out over the music

have i told you bout the neverness hoax …..?

i mean what the fuck does that mean

that means that never never happens

understand…?

anyway back to ricky he plays a blinder that night

like a football player always in the right place at the right time

we rip thru the set like we’re neil young or something

i cant believe how rickys got the band rocking

i mean its unashamedly rock ok

its pumping its loud its nasty its emotional

its valve bouncing rocknroll

the hoffmen rhythm section are world class

anyone could pick em up n be happy with em

ricky is the one of the best utility man in the world

he can do any job in rocknroll

and he’d kick any band up the butt that needed it

and he’d be brutally honest too n wouldnt mince words if it was lame

luckily he is a dedicated rocker and one of the best ive ever seen

he totally understands every musical trick or effect i ever pulled off

ricky could pick up any instrument n play it

at a church rehearsal a few years back

he amazes me by stepping in for every member of the church

at a rehearsal one day

someone would go off n ricky could play his part perfectly

hes got a mind like an encyclopaedia

hes got the arrangements in his head for all instruments

he must have thousands of songs in his head

boy could he play guitar

you could say i was a happy camper

i shouted out my songs and i felt real happy

good call

good club

good audience

very fucking tasty gig i reckon

these guys made my music rock n i love to rock

i didnt used to so much but now i do

stamp yer foot n bash yer geetar rock

nice one to all concerned

fabulous to see my true fans there

i love these true fans they are my lifeblood

they know who they are

special mention to kate who was smiling big x

special mention to diamanda galah who always been there x

special mention to lisa who yelled out this is a great set! x

special mention to melissa who is always so calm x

special mention to mary who sees the silly side of me easily x

special mention to donald ooops to much smokey dokey!

special mention to sam s a true original n impeccably eccentric

special mention to rob mc from triffids who was amazing on lonely stretch

ah thats enough……

the next day i flew outta melb early to drive for a while to parramatta

a suburb of sydneys sprawling west

i was one of 3 judges judging a sidewalk pastel competition

or a chalk the walk as they say

the other 2 judges were really cool n fun people too

so it was a real pleasure

ive judged a few things now n its hard

there were some really great things

n nothing stood out as the obvious winner

the theme was the blues

however you wanted to interpret that

there was robert johnson at the crossroads

there were blues playing koalas

there were blue smuggled birds

there was a blue angel who won both judges n peoples prizes

there was a guy trying to rig the peoples prize by stacking the ballot

his large extended family stood around his work

glaring n smiling at the judges

wow! i guess the 5000 dollar prize money  woulda come in handy

its a pretty good chunk of money

i wouldnt mind winning it myself

anyway we looked at all the works

we talked it out

i reckon the best one won

i had a good time

wish eekie coulda been there

i know she would have had some thoughts on things

ok then

see ya soon

thats it!

shift worker

using me up

same old same old

boo hoo

now cry now yell now laugh

i remember better times than these n it makes me sick

i ache for sleep to nullify this

burn my bridge when i come to it

i’d plunge into slumber like a heavy white stone

sinking sinking somewhere down there is some oblivion

yeah its gotta be warmer n darker than this

yeah its gotta hold me tighter yeah its gotta rock me until gone

can i find one damn room where nobody ever comes

can i run against the red lights

can i keep a stupid secret man well can i

maybe i need a long long holiday in the delight of gardens

i feel cold its indescribable

fighting the hydra

a hundred new heads but not one brain

a hundred new brains but not one thought

a hundred new thoughts but not one idea

a hundred ideas but not one of them beautiful

you woulda thought i’d had enough

but i fall for those tricks everytime

i swim in the turbulent water

jesus it wears you out fast kicking against the nouvelle vague

in mordor where the shadows lie

new teeth old me

wheres me little precious then…wheres me reward…..

wheres me jumped up pumping pup

the road is long and harrowingly narrow

listen to the sparrowfall

glass

sure i heard some song about brave ulysses

no i lived that life didnt i

down by the docks watching the sea all day for the black beaked ships

i must really be mad because i can see the rippling sea rushing towards me

i can hear the timbers groan and twitch in that red wine dark sea

i can hear the phantom shouts of the men

its a joke the world has stopped

the morning ruptures and the magic congeals

any enemy has long since looted its secrets

circe is there

the witch

which witch the wicked witch

turn all men into pigs but not me

why not me circe why not me

oh no not you not you my dear

what does she look like

who can tell

you seen one witch you seen em all

you seen one pig you seen em all

sometimes i see a sail sometimes i see a cloud

i climb the hills and i look out at the vast aegean age

at night the witch climbs into my bed

i can never remember the things she has said

her hands on me

her whispering ears

shuddering inside my skin

thud against the night

i’m so confused

what language are we speaking

oh yes be ever so  gentle

my resolve softens as my heart hardens

i fight the same battles over n over

i washed up on same islands

the morning finds me staggering on the strand

i cough up water and sand as i retch up the sea

i lie in the grass under a bong bong tree

warm day comes down all around me

a lagoon morning full of fish

circe fucking with her magic

the rhythmic tide

rockpools swell and empty

whitened columns from an earlier time where pan was exalted

whats it like to die i wonder as i expire in the sun

nice once youve given into it , i’m sure

i see a black sail on a white horizon

i call out to the sailors

at last i am free

haze 0-6 at 13.03

unreality truly sets in

some other geezer  not  kilbey wakes up

wakes up in the middle of my dream

its the morning he gets up tries to remember the names

outside its warm soft and fuzzy

glide down the street to the swimming pool

his legs seem springy and oh how he strides along

listen to some music on the headphones

listen to some jazzy piano thingy

listen to the echoes stretch into the distance

cotton wool world

arrive n dive into the cold pool

he hardly notices the shock of the green water full of seaweed and particulate matter

the limbs do the swim

the head outside of itself

he is baffled at what is happening

this vast show with cast and crew

here in this green pool numbed down n finally free

he who is/was me kicks lazily through the water

the sun shines warmly

the rain falls as the tiniest almost imperceptible shivery points

your arm tingles as it drifts down

the seaside suburb is in a dream

they are all asleep at their roles

they are all dreaming they are awake

sit in the blistering sauna after cold pool

i chat to the sweating people in there

i mean everybody knows me

he pretending to be me

talks in some laconic dopey way

as the sweat gushes in the incredible heat

but inside my head its icy cool no one really home

the geezer in the mirror some middle ages australian dial

christ whole days are wasted in weird follies

paranoia got me by the jollies

i slink thinkless shadowing somebody i feel a fool

i’m lost hiding in the doorway of a shop

i cant wake up from any of these dreams

i cry but its hard to cry

i reach out but its hard to reach out

i tell the truth but its hard to tell the truth

i live but its hard to live

i love but its hard to love

and i leave

but its hard to leave

starry knight

type type type

my fingers get busy

some words appear in my head outta knowhere

memories conundrums fleeting thoughts

long life leading up to this momento

a lotta good n a lotta bad

learn my lines

play my part

time drags n then suddenly gone

possibilities stretch out n collide

impossible dream run dont walk

multiple edits on fabric of reality

a pattern for some lovely final curtains

warm evening descends on my town

all the heroes n villains out there

the crims n the cops close in

the flowers wilt

the cactus sags

the bonsai exceeds its pot

the fruit is over ripe

a bunch of childrens books on the table

i drink cold jewish grape juice guaranteed kosher

made in the holy land it says but where is holier than right here…?

my light has blown so i sit in the darkening dark

a green vase with fake plastic flowers sits against the night

the medicine has expired in the packet

the temperature has exceeded 20 degrees celsius

the music drifts in from next door but its very faint

the cars seem to fade away in the distance

i sit in my kitchen an empty vessel communicating

the zeitgeist lingers heavy

i sit in my kitchen

and i think

e

purple patch

rhapsodic evening

gentle rain n everything

words flow into my mind like lava sliding down a hill

in crowded rooms i have lost myself

in this midnight mist i exist in any direction

sometimes life goes easy like honey

music blossoms on the minds hills

people warm up to you

sitting in huge palatial suites

or in the exquisite gardens

you photographed around a pool hugging someone

no i must be getting confused because i’m sleepy

the light in here is warm purpled and dim flickering 1950s

i follow my thoughts through the arcadian fields and the e mysteries

i jump out of bed and stride around giving orders

i can be a bit of a bastard you know

my childhood was uneventful however

so i filled it with the grimms and the hymns

i sit on a bus to rozelle in 1990 balmain schoolgirls going home

i’m composing a song in my head and anything could have gotten in

you can do anything you like with poetry cant you?

its like a lie, isnt it

you given me licence to lie

so i imagine i’m this old singer on this planet called terra nausea

look i got a white beard n everything

the planet travels its sickening ellipse

we’re hurtling outta control through space cake and velocity v

we have co-ordinates but they are rumours hearsay and abstract chatter

down at the bar the geniuses are all getting drunk

the universe shudders and somewhere a light goes out

suddenly alone within my mind i wander its labyrinthian chambers

rotten hollows full of bad memories

some mental treatment plant grinds the black sludge of old pain

i stand knocking at some door early one morning

bang bang bang i dont know why nobody answers

opportunity is elusive do you know what i mean

and life is dreamy on a few mondays  sometimes some places

a morning comes finds me exhausted

instead i am summoned past lives and lives

you go where the good memories are dont you

you go stumbling through me chucking stuff this way n that

a mortal man a portable spirit

spirit take me now

i remember the various memories naturally

how could it be otherwise

well except that some memories are anticipated

that gives them some negative weight or wait i suppose

or boggled down in reminiscences two a penny

i rented a chalet for a while in my beloved alps

i drove a silent car along an alpine drive

i had a suit it was perfectly black

my hair was blond you know as i sped through a mountain

my skin it was tanned in that nordic way

i changed gears and accelerated away

that night i paid 500 euros for some phoney hook

who cares because i was loaded at this point

my hands trembled as i flew through my dreamtime being

a human ocelot tore my arms apart i thought you were my pet

my music soothes only some beasts i’m afraid

i cant placate your monsters and mirages

the new time heralds another limbo

memory once memory twice

hey whos making up all this cool poetry it isnt me

my car is parked outside a cafe in the gloomy hinterlands

my head is heavy like in an underwater stone on summer night

never mind all this what do you want to say ? i ask no one in charge

bondi beach is black as black at night

the air ravishes you as you sleep on the sand

the lights blur on the edges of some tears

in my mind i’m already shivering

i pull on my swiss german overcoat

the snow is finally falling and i promised austria

i was a suave count at your court

now i am this hermit in my tower

concocting fleeting marvels on the anvil n crucible

forked tongued lightning aiding my strike

in a gloomy passage on a cold crisp night

or lolling on my banana bed in hawaii

sleepier and sleepier

i return unto bed

headshots

in the whirling dark

the created world hewn from nothingness

planet from the rib of star

sun a spark of god

the seeming fertile within the fire

the jumpabout metallurgy  of  law of attractions

that was true but it isnt anymore

yes the truth has been bent its been sent to perplex us

doesnt seem to be just one thing

i mean what would i know what i mean

falling backwards out of a dream

immunity wishes granted

the earth is a great idea actualised

oh yes well done

the steppes the plains the wild antelopes and mountain lions

the rivers the banks the clouds the golden carp

it all came out of nowhere apparently

god out of the machine

a series of parallels

in this world we’re happy

in that world we come apart

stress screams in machine language

the bridges groan

the engines whine

the concrete whispers

the steel works

ying yawns

yang bangs

the great aegyptian age begins shortly

the ritual sacrifice the virtual artifice

ra in lambent glory

baby can you dig this crazy cosmology

pyramid amid the valley of the kings

nefertiti into confetti as she wed sun and sat

a serpent cracks this globe

we probe the extremes of thebes and capri

imagine nero stabbed and arrowed

the empress murdered in her dreams

the barges sail up the tigris

the sailboats up the euphrates

the blue crane wheels overhead like some angel

the reeds rub together in the wind creating music

the strings vibrate in harmony the coincidence not unnoticed

the orbits are effortless

the creatures all rise and fall

the moon pulls upon the sea

the sea laps the lands limbs

the land has landed in a field

the field has fielded the following flowers

foxglove forget me not  mandrake root n angelfruit

the residue is almost undetectable

the denial

the