i dont know what you want
its not even 8 oclock in the morning here
sunday morning coming down fast above you
i need to write something though
all day n night my mind is bubbling over with ideas…
muse : just show us the good ones
i watch show on the saints
except for one good song..
what a bloody awful racket!
and how amazingly like lord byron bailey speaks
muse : have you actually ever heard lord byron?
no, but i bet he sounded like bailey
ed was lugubrious as usual
wry and lofty
what strange rockstars these 2 were…
damo lovelock waxes v. enthusiastic
even nicky cave wades in with his top drawer praise
to hear these guys talk
youd think the saints were like
guitar weilding tchaikovskys or somethin’
opening up some huge new possibility in life
a man of impeccable taste i guess
goes so over the top
with his descriptions
of the 1st time he heard im stranded
electric pulsations going up his feet and spine
leaving him prostrate breathless
at this stage i says to the wife
an’ you thought i was over-enthusiastic last week……?!
bradley sheppard from the goo-roos
is mystified by its eternal punk enigma
look the list goes on…
but what im really thinking
cos the saints
i admit to not understanding
in the parlance of shallow hollywoodesque cant
i dont get it
i didnt then
i still dont
i dont hate em either
theyre just outside my sphere of reference
(i used to have prehistoric sounds and it was ok)
and it occurs to me
that richard n marty both played with bailey
at different stages
but one thing you gotta admit
is that the saints had that raw sound
before most others
in the middle of the very confused 1970s
they were no namby pamby glam turkey like moi
i guess i jumped straight over punk
from glam to psychedelic comeback
in one fell swoop
like a knight on the chessboard
arriving at different places unexpectedly
actually i watch saints show
to re evaluate whether i would like staff-ish on there
is it a classic australian album album?
do i want a load of lumineries saying how great it was?
muse: i’d say so….
do i want to be on there raving on about myself?
muse : i bet you do….
do i want a load of mega successful hipsters
saying how they nicked everything from starfish?
muse: you might want it…but it aint gonna happen…
and you have no control
there i’ll be
in a shiny empty recording studio somewhere
oooh look doris…its steve fucking kilbey
oh boris…he looks like one of the nine mortal kings
i dont like that silly beard
hes got a good suntan though boris
oh look there he is when he was still glamourous(sigh)
i wish hed stop going on about himself…….
……and saying all those big words
….and comparing himself to his betters
…..and smirking….god thats annoying
…and touching the silly beard
…..and dropping in foreign phrases like zeitgeist n je ne sais quoi
…..and looking bemused and self satisfied
…..clearing his throat before weighty pronouncements
…..rubbing his hands together smugly
…..long rambling answers full of tedious details
…..putting on his english n australian accents, i mean, which is it?
the shows over
i wanted to hear that one good song!
which ones that ?
you know la la la dah dah
the one they did in that tv show
i wanted to hear what he said about that….
why wouldya.?…itll just demystify it for ya, dear…
ah youre right doris
youre so right
i dont know what you want