moonray

i invoke the patience of a mountain i swim in green green still warm water the gentle rain and a golden curled child by my side the flowers are brightly smeared onto watercolour viridian my head whispers songs from long ago under the water where everything is quiet and liquid like childhood before anxiety sets in like a warm room on a cold day the sea has no colour it just mimics the sky the sky has no colour it is an illusion of space space has no colour it is an illusion of god god has no colour it is an illusion of man so anyway today the sea appears to be grey so grey and so far away today yesterdays fall through my ceilings good yesterday bad yesterday mostly ok yesterday gentle autumn lonely graceful the child looks to me for guidance we chat and natter as we wind our way through the wet streets the lawns are all iridescent now the trees drunk on rain lovely n lovelier  

Photo on 2012-03-17 at 15.58 #2

light in light

i invoke the patience of a mountain

i swim in green green still warm water

the gentle rain and a golden curled child by my side

the flowers are brightly smeared onto watercolour viridian

my head whispers songs from long ago

under the water where everything is quiet and liquid

like childhood before anxiety sets in

like a warm room on a cold day

the sea has no colour it just mimics the sky

the sky has no colour it is an illusion of space

space has no colour it is an illusion of god

god has no colour it is an illusion of man

so anyway

today the sea appears to be grey so grey and so far away

today yesterdays fall through my ceilings

good yesterday bad yesterday

mostly ok yesterday

gentle autumn lonely graceful

the child looks to me for guidance

we chat and natter as we wind our way through the wet streets

the lawns are all iridescent now

the trees drunk on rain

lovely n lovelier

 

keep calm and listen to the church

untitled #23

earthed plus etc etc

in 1986 not content with all the other malarkey i was involved in i release a book of poetry and an album of music by the name of earthed earthed is an ambitious conceit and its a hodgepodge of styles like i had the idea of doing this book/record thing but i kept running out of real creative steam and was sometimes doing it a bit by numbers yet it does have good stuff too firstly the book well its called poetry but its really just a series of only just slightly connected things theres some flashes of brilliance and theres some real awkward tripe some big ideas that i didn’t have the wherewithal then to execute but always its ultra steve kilbey and all that you’d expect from him circa 1986 yeah greek myths drugs music religion magic ancient history all that stuff its dripping in it and weird little vignettes and that kinda thing its all mixed up my life was a dream of pot and travel and music it was like a living dream and some of that is transferred to the book some of the book was taken from my previous book the crowd invisible which only existed as a dozen or so copies photocopied and clipped together so i nicked the best of that and the rest i just wrote over a few months later on in a second edition i added nineveh and the ephemeron the former a series of poems revolving around the biblical city nineveh the latter is about Erskine the magician in a series of prose poems both are quite different from earthed and from each other too however as i can’t write books and review them with any honesty i don’t really know know how good  any of it is […]

Photo on 12-03-12 at 6.02 PM

earth to kilbey earth to kilbey

in 1986 not content with all the other malarkey i was involved in

i release a book of poetry and an album of music by the name of earthed

earthed is an ambitious conceit and its a hodgepodge of styles

like i had the idea of doing this book/record thing

but i kept running out of real creative steam and

was sometimes doing it a bit by numbers

yet it does have good stuff too

firstly the book

well its called poetry but its really just a series of

only just slightly connected things

theres some flashes of brilliance and theres some real awkward tripe

some big ideas that i didn’t have the wherewithal then to execute

but always its ultra steve kilbey and all that you’d expect from him

circa 1986

yeah greek myths drugs music religion magic ancient history

all that stuff its dripping in it

and weird little vignettes and that kinda thing

its all mixed up

my life was a dream of pot and travel and music

it was like a living dream and some of that is transferred to the book

some of the book was taken from my previous book the crowd invisible

which only existed as a dozen or so copies photocopied and clipped together

so i nicked the best of that

and the rest i just wrote over a few months

later on in a second edition i added nineveh and the ephemeron

the former a series of poems revolving around the biblical city nineveh

the latter is about Erskine the magician in a series of prose poems

both are quite different from earthed and from each other too

however as i can’t write books and review them with any honesty

i don’t really know know how good  any of it is but at least its trying

trying too hard sometimes but it aint all just nothing

somethings coming through at least i hope so

the music contained on the earthed album is all over the shop

theres everything all of it instrumental

pianos howl sadly

cellos crunch

guitars scream in the surf

orchestras like a toy soldier band

grinding squirming basslines

its good its bad but its not that bad

theres shuddering drug like experiences

pristine little bits

noisy emotional things

some lovely sad melodies too

i did it all myself so there you go

the good and the bad that go along with one geezer

doing everything himself

eventually karmic hit released a version of earthed

with 8 extra tracks with me reading selected poems (gee)

i have a very limited number of these cds available

each one will include a new cd sized piece of art

and a (customized) signature

15 aust dollars including postage to SKP people

25 aust Dollars including postage for non SKP people

only about 25 or so left be quick if you like on the paypal

also coming within next 2 months earthed plus collected other poems

in updated book with a foreword by graham nunn

stay tuned !

love me

 

ADDENDA

mr d rundle had this to say on the matter of earthed

Steve

Read your comments on Earthed on the web (ps I’ve got about 5 different versions of it at least so I don’t need it again) –but can I just say you have way undersold it.

 

The first copy I got of this was an vinyl picked up second hand at rice’s book shop in newcastle – I was sort of just just becoming  a fan of the church, I’d bought and sold Heyday whilst at uni 3 or 4 times to and from the same shop (poor school student) . But it took me a long time (3or4 trade in’s) to realise how much I liked it and then eventually loved it!  After Heyday I’d gone through the back catalogue etc. Earthed came out  whilst I was at uni and I knew about it sort of wanted it but couldn’t get to sydney and didn’t have the pocket money for a new one but then it popped up at rice’s second hand like a gift from the gods probably not that long after it was released. At this stage I’d never seen the Church live (first time was the I think just pre release of starfish tour in Newcastle possibly 87 or 88 another story)

 

Anyway back to Earthed – this record sealed the deal for me – it made me a real fan of Steve Kilbey the musician not the rock star. The flow the sounds the instrumentation on that record just blows me away – it was like nothing else I’d heard before and nothing else I’d heard since. I was even more entrenched in how you played and recorded everything yourself in bedroom studio’s. It’s was so arty it’s what I call ‘Alternative’. It’s a journey from start to finish little excerpts that flow perfectly to the next song all sorts of weird subtle little noises – for me this album changed everything and I began collecting every thing you ever did from then on– began hanging out for the new stuff as soon as I could get it. Began annoying all my mates about how good a musician you were. Sold sealed and delivered that album is historically significant and an absolute masterpiece – it’s one of your best ever in my opinion and one of the most listened to – the only one’s I would have played more often is probably Priest and Remindlessness which are probably my all time favourite albums. I’ve loved everything you’ve ever done but earthed is definitely one of the special ones.

 

Regards

David Rundle

march hair

the best thing about rock music is the hair i grew up in an era of short back n sides then the beatles rebooted mens interest in hair-dos and rocknrollers were at the forefront of the revolution some notable cases : the beatles. they had every style first then moved on….. mick jagger . what a wonderful flouncy mop of boyish hair i love the way it jiggles in time to the music circa 1969 keith . at its best his haircut was one of the holy grails of rock dos (tho george harrison can be seen with a proto keith circa revolver) keiths do said fuck you to the man it said i take drugs and lots of em it said i play cool fuckin’ guitar….etc etc it was a sad day for rock when keiths hair started to change…. ronnie wood . another version of keiths only more shiny black n resilient woody still has a hair do would be the envy of most 18 year olds rod stewart . yet another variation blonde and more rooster-like still going strong but changed to a more “moderne” sweep ian maclagan . yet another cool variation of above cool do. and read his excellent book too! its the best rocknroll autobio bar dylans now lets see oh yes marc bolan who made curly hair cool…which was quite something.. and mickey finn his offsider in T Rex who had lovely long tresses steve tyler n joe perry. always got something interesting happening freddy mercury . loved his do until biker phase. like prince valiant or something..or a page boy gone wrong. dylan…wow hes had some amazing dos my fave is blonde on blonde neil young circa his first couple of records ..jet black n straight he had all the gravitas of […]

Photo on 2012-03-10 at 20.11 #3

barbarian quartet

the best thing about rock music is the hair

i grew up in an era of short back n sides

then the beatles rebooted mens interest in hair-dos

and rocknrollers were at the forefront of the revolution

some notable cases :

the beatles. they had every style first then moved on…..

mick jagger . what a wonderful flouncy mop of boyish hair

i love the way it jiggles in time to the music circa 1969

keith . at its best his haircut was one of the holy grails of rock dos

(tho george harrison can be seen with a proto keith circa revolver)

keiths do said fuck you to the man

it said i take drugs and lots of em

it said i play cool fuckin’ guitar….etc etc

it was a sad day for rock when keiths hair started to change….

ronnie wood . another version of keiths only more shiny black n resilient

woody still has a hair do would be the envy of most 18 year olds

rod stewart . yet another variation blonde and more rooster-like

still going strong but changed to a more “moderne” sweep

ian maclagan . yet another cool variation of above cool do.

and read his excellent book too! its the best rocknroll autobio bar dylans

now lets see

oh yes marc bolan who made curly hair cool…which was quite something..

and mickey finn his offsider in T Rex who had lovely long tresses

steve tyler n joe perry. always got something interesting happening

freddy mercury . loved his do until biker phase.

like prince valiant or something..or a page boy gone wrong.

dylan…wow hes had some amazing dos my fave is blonde on blonde

neil young circa his first couple of records ..jet black n straight

he had all the gravitas of an indian chief like geronimo or somebody

led zepplin . all had silly dos round song remains the same.

ok pageys aint too bad i guess but john paul looks like an illfitting wig

plantys mane then wild  only emphasises his debauched features now

bruce springsteen. had a great pseudo dylan do circa darkness on the edge

johnny n edgar winter. amazing snowy white long straight hair

eric carmen. how did he keep that lot aloft?

david bowie. the king of hairdos. i love every variation of ziggy and a lad insane

i really love diamond dogs

not so mad on young americans do

but love golden years hair

still has an amazing head o hair n some recent cool dos too

nick cave. too much black dye i reckon……

brett anderson . thought he had some cool dos

morrissey. never liked his look much myself

brian jones. sometimes his blonde prince val looked amazing

other times it looked amazingly kinda silly..

hendrix. wow! a real statement ! a statement of wild intent!

emily lou harris. looking very good still with steely grey hair

bono. never got it right tho larry looks good in early days

izzy stradlin. modern version of the keith but kinda cool

paul simenon. marvellous blonde punk do

ditto billy idol and neal x from ss sputnix

johnny rotten had a great do at the beginning too

mick jones too with his variation on the keith

peter gabriel . inverse mohawk circa foxtrot was the bees knees

simon kirke from free. loved his floppy blond do in early days

ditto the blonde one in the byrds who looked like brian jones

heavy metal . i hate the kinda hair do. it makes ya look like your auntie

ian curtis . it looked good , didnt it….?

patti smith. love her hair on first album cover . a brilliant do!

the rest of the psg always had good dos too

deniz tek. had a good do most of the time too

liam gallagher. a cross between rod n ronnie n keef (i guess)

the sweet. auntie hair dos again

dreadlocks. an impressive statement. the hair resembles ganja …!

anyway

write n tell me whose hair has inspired you

follicle by follicle

 

the great beast

the nephilim who sprang from union of angel and woman the heroes of old the giants and magicians hammering fist and light feet appear here appear there here then nowhere oh this grotesque beauty if you can see all these bones you find in the future you fools they are dragon bones! nephilim killed them all strode this world like it was a dog swift as a black death harder than white winter harder than man moving unchecked where they will kill without touching them they never feel it till its too late a thought harpoons the mind a feint a parry a thrust without movement such graceful killers almost invulnerable i wonder how this creation has gone wrong again and again how could this have come from some pure and innocent god? who made these sirens and slatterns that did such bewitch angels? whence came angels could be seduced by women? are we to imagine these things come not from some strange malice? why were no limits put on these things?          

Photo on 2012-03-08 at 20.00

lean and hungry look

the nephilim who sprang from union of angel and woman

the heroes of old the giants and magicians

hammering fist and light feet

appear here appear there

here then nowhere

oh this grotesque beauty

if you can see

all these bones you find in the future

you fools they are dragon bones!

nephilim killed them all

strode this world like it was a dog

swift as a black death

harder than white winter

harder than man

moving unchecked where they will

kill without touching them

they never feel it till its too late

a thought harpoons the mind

a feint a parry a thrust without movement

such graceful killers

almost invulnerable

i wonder how this creation has gone wrong again and again

how could this have come from some pure and innocent god?

who made these sirens and slatterns that did such bewitch angels?

whence came angels could be seduced by women?

are we to imagine these things come not from some strange malice?

why were no limits put on these things?

 

 

 

 

 

cinema of scents

after we pay our money we wander through the dim darkness to our seats some music plays or is it machinery behind the walls we sit back in silence at first nothing then a cavalcade of aromas burning paper disinfectant in schools banana lunchbox on wet day smell of pears soap smell of mums christmas decorations from england inside dads car old spice and tobacco and cold leather chlorine in summer on the breeze acne cream takes you back 40 years in one second smell of the lolly shop on a warm day smell of egg and chips smell of custard and gooseberry tart smell of old burnt toast smell of cornflakes smell of long gone toothpastes smell of brylcream and california poppy smell of ancient suntan oils like skol….. smell of beer smell of the pub smell of perfume we’ve not smelt for 30 years smell of fireworks petrol and engines the sea the salt the rotting weed the rock pools smell of nauseous morning and cavalier night the rabbits hutch the cheap motel room the kitchen round your friends and then it ends slowly the theatre fills with sweet incense the light comes up and we wander out again stunned and lost in sudden found memory

Photo on 7-03-12 at 6.04 PM

fiery messenger

after we pay our money

we wander through the dim darkness to our seats

some music plays or is it machinery behind the walls

we sit back in silence

at first nothing

then a cavalcade of aromas

burning paper

disinfectant in schools

banana lunchbox on wet day

smell of pears soap

smell of mums christmas decorations from england

inside dads car old spice and tobacco and cold leather

chlorine in summer on the breeze

acne cream takes you back 40 years in one second

smell of the lolly shop on a warm day

smell of egg and chips

smell of custard and gooseberry tart

smell of old burnt toast smell of cornflakes

smell of long gone toothpastes

smell of brylcream and california poppy

smell of ancient suntan oils like skol…..

smell of beer smell of the pub

smell of perfume we’ve not smelt for 30 years

smell of fireworks

petrol and engines

the sea the salt the rotting weed the rock pools

smell of nauseous morning and cavalier night

the rabbits hutch

the cheap motel room

the kitchen round your friends

and then it ends slowly

the theatre fills with sweet incense

the light comes up

and we wander out again

stunned and lost in sudden found memory

husk

  effigy of your love orange in the marine night as gossamer burns watercolour all blurred the wind is almost worn out torn through iron balustrades cut into pieces the spume and spray a storm blows itself  apart the lights in the valley glimmer on they’re watching tv they’re washing up they’re sleeping they’re dreaming weird new combinations in nightmares of haze and struggle in visions of naked angels in thoughts of impossible stuff i dissipate early my resolve smeared on black paper my industry strikes out my method of operating unravels by itself well theres the distance well theres the green and blue hue and sea cry well theres the suntan which is hideous in negative cars always arriving and always leaving i wish i lived everybody’s life i wish i was speeding into rain i wish i was lush and plush in a cushy car minds are lost in the valley dead spider suspended over the path with her tiny dead pearls the gate is rusty and it sticks the kitchenette on the billboard over the road …have i been there..? in the shop the pop is flat in the flat above the shop sits pop my headache takes some time off in the shade its not talking to me since i hurled it into the sea headlong but i’m talking to myself that is to no one in particular it doesn’t matter you think it did but it doesnt you wish it mattered because if it doesn’t matter…then what does…? nothing which is good and bad duality is containable within deep minds my shallow groove is however disrupted only sleep can erase knowledge like magic only sleep can wrap you in blackness only sleep showing you all the different could have beens and my fond regards….   […]

Photo on 6-03-12 at 7.54 PM
Photo on 6-03-12 at 7.54 PM

mans laughter

 

effigy of your love

orange in the marine night as gossamer burns

watercolour all blurred

the wind is almost worn out

torn through iron balustrades

cut into pieces the spume and spray

a storm blows itself  apart

the lights in the valley glimmer on

they’re watching tv

they’re washing up

they’re sleeping

they’re dreaming weird new combinations

in nightmares of haze and struggle

in visions of naked angels

in thoughts of impossible stuff

i dissipate early

my resolve smeared on black paper

my industry strikes out

my method of operating unravels by itself

well theres the distance

well theres the green and blue hue and sea cry

well theres the suntan which is hideous in negative

cars always arriving and always leaving

i wish i lived everybody’s life

i wish i was speeding into rain

i wish i was lush and plush in a cushy car

minds are lost in the valley

dead spider suspended over the path with her tiny dead pearls

the gate is rusty and it sticks

the kitchenette on the billboard over the road …have i been there..?

in the shop the pop is flat

in the flat above the shop sits pop

my headache takes some time off in the shade

its not talking to me since i hurled it into the sea

headlong

but i’m talking to myself

that is to no one in particular

it doesn’t matter

you think it did but it doesnt

you wish it mattered because if it doesn’t matter…then what does…?

nothing

which is good and bad

duality is containable within deep minds

my shallow groove is however disrupted

only sleep can erase knowledge like magic

only sleep can wrap you in blackness

only sleep showing you all the different could have beens

and my fond regards….

 

 

la mort d’excelon

the sombre drum the incessant thud the trees with bowed boughs the dogs in the street slink away the snow is filthy the river is black the night cold and dry skin winces on contact still the morning flinches from itself a single bird in the sky rain in dismal sheets a chasm yawns a child wakes in fear the whispering festering corridors of some hospital the smell of the healing herbs red blood on silver metal the emptiness of an old room black foul smoke the quacks nervous caution the heat of white light the moon outside pulsates a titanium disc the door opens to an inner passage the light then dims drift away drift away there is no swan song a deep silence falls upon the world and an absence is felt immediately

Photo on 2012-03-05 at 19.13

no caption

the sombre drum

the incessant thud

the trees with bowed boughs

the dogs in the street slink away

the snow is filthy

the river is black

the night cold and dry

skin winces on contact

still the morning flinches from itself

a single bird in the sky

rain in dismal sheets

a chasm yawns

a child wakes in fear

the whispering festering corridors of some hospital

the smell of the healing herbs

red blood on silver metal

the emptiness of an old room

black foul smoke

the quacks nervous caution

the heat of white light

the moon outside pulsates a titanium disc

the door opens to an inner passage

the light then dims

drift away drift away

there is no swan song

a deep silence falls upon the world

and an absence is felt immediately

rampions exile

in the quick black night a fresh cool breeze the sibilant trees the fox red in the forest the lamb white against black grass the castle with its rooks and ravens the hotel with its chicks and wolves the boat with its oars and hands the street with its voices and silences climb down mossy steps cool white the frogs make no sound the moon has been left all muddy at the station a carriage perhaps at the front desk a message at the wedding of magic and science at their destructive separation audition disguises but we are torn in two a treacherous knave these laughable lies betrayal of a great champion bellflowers trampled in royal gardens the hounds want the fox the crowd want the blood the story branches off this way dreams that way doldrums my heart powers the wheel that pushes these figments my music in their veins my ether in their earth my theorem of creation never to be unproved my merging of light and sound and love my pursuit of exhaustion i brought them velvet thunder that fell from icicle skies i brought them delicious mayhem i brought them the sound of empire  falling open the morning already fled the pack is waiting the day ahead is long and cold and bleak a trudge through oblivion a walk in the park

Photo on 2012-03-04 at 21.43

the burning bush

in the quick black night

a fresh cool breeze

the sibilant trees

the fox red in the forest

the lamb white against black grass

the castle with its rooks and ravens

the hotel with its chicks and wolves

the boat with its oars and hands

the street with its voices and silences

climb down mossy steps cool white

the frogs make no sound

the moon has been left all muddy

at the station a carriage perhaps

at the front desk a message

at the wedding of magic and science

at their destructive separation

audition disguises

but we are torn in two

a treacherous knave

these laughable lies

betrayal of a great champion

bellflowers trampled in royal gardens

the hounds want the fox

the crowd want the blood

the story branches off

this way dreams

that way doldrums

my heart powers the wheel that pushes these figments

my music in their veins

my ether in their earth

my theorem of creation never to be unproved

my merging of light and sound and love

my pursuit of exhaustion

i brought them velvet thunder that fell from icicle skies

i brought them delicious mayhem

i brought them the sound of empire  falling open

the morning already fled

the pack is waiting

the day ahead is long and cold and bleak

a trudge through oblivion

a walk in the park

addenda

mr stewart holt has this to add on the matter of rampion and excelon On a different topic: Perhaps I’m confusing my history but did the collaboration of Lord Rampion and Excelon ultimately threaten the fabric of space and time as (in performing what was to become their final piece) their essences merged and issues of phase and sympathetic resonance began to affect the music of the spheres and, resonating backwards through time, the very words of making? Wasn’t someone forced to make the heart-wrenching decision to stop them, shattering their fused form and sending shards across this and other worlds. I’m intrigued by whether the shards truly became the rocks perched upon by Sirens, parts of David’s harp and Joshua’s horn and the inlays of a very particular Fender bass. I’ve been thinking about Excelon and Rampion. in the beginning was energy vibration resonance the word resounding throughout all of the space and time it brought into being its sustain sustaining existence energy vibration resonance the elements of the baby’s first heart piercing cry of the gentle thunder rolling over distant plains of the crash of a rose petal and the earth colliding of every particle of every molecule of every celestial body the essence and whole of the entire symphony of the cosmos the musica universalis perfection safe in its incomparable incomprehensible complexity safe from phase cancelation by replication safe from the unsympathetic forces of sympathetic resonance unattainable and unassailable the collaboration of excelon and rampion the whole more than the sum of their arts perfecting reflecting energy vibration resonance…

  • mr stewart holt has this to add on the matter of rampion and excelon

    • On a different topic: Perhaps I’m confusing my history but did the collaboration of Lord Rampion and Excelon ultimately threaten the fabric of space and time as (in performing what was to become their final piece) their essences merged and issues of phase and sympathetic resonance began to affect the music of the spheres and, resonating backwards through time, the very words of making? Wasn’t someone forced to make the heart-wrenching decision to stop them, shattering their fused form and sending shards across this and other worlds. I’m intrigued by whether the shards truly became the rocks perched upon by Sirens, parts of David’s harp and Joshua’s horn and the inlays of a very particular Fender bass.

        • I’ve been thinking about Excelon and Rampion.
          in the beginning was energy vibration resonance
          the word
          resounding throughout all of the space and time it brought into being
          its sustain sustaining existence
          energy vibration resonance
          the elements of the baby’s first heart piercing cry
          of the gentle thunder rolling over distant plains
          of the crash of a rose petal and the earth colliding
          of every particle of every molecule of every celestial body
          the essence and whole of the entire symphony of the cosmos
          the musica universalis
          perfection
          safe in its incomparable incomprehensible complexity
          safe from phase cancelation by replication
          safe from the unsympathetic forces of sympathetic resonance
          unattainable and unassailable
          the collaboration of excelon and rampion
          the whole more than the sum of their arts
          perfecting reflecting
          energy vibration resonance…