sometimes i feel like jus’ making it all up
i mean, who would know
but life is always weirder than friction
and thats how the snake got out its skin
and kilbey flounders n struggles from one disaster to
another
i could right a fucken book
kilbeys semi-autobiography
the real story un ex purr gated
or whatever…
hey its all bullshit, right?
who cares if kilbey insulted hughie louis n made him cry?
who cares that he snorted coke at roger jaggers bar mitzvah
(or was it bar none)
or at the pittsburgh area music awards
a drunken slurring kilbey
he didnt mean to be drunk
but he thought it might help
actually it didnt take much to get us drunk
a sip of champers
and kilbey was staggering round the green room
treading on rick ocaseks corns
and eating mister misters guacamole
we went out for a stroll in the snow
as luck wood have it
we bump into ziggy marley n end up blowing a spliff
kilbey pretending to know all about dub
says some stupid things
“thats not fucking dub, man(mon)!” says z m
we’re left coughing in the snow
what you say that for? i ask him
i dunno he says
fuck ‘im if ‘e cant take a joke !
ah touche
sometimes our minds think so alike
some fan recognizes us
oh no kilbey says
lookin’ round for an exit
but the guy is loomin’ large
steve?
no
yes it is!
no its not!
steve kill-beee?
no!
me : it is…he’s just being rude
k: shut up you imbecile
fan : steve?
me : yes!
k : no!
fan: steve kill-bee…of the churrrch?
me: yes n no
k: no n no
fan : excuse me…are you steve?
k : (looking daggers at me!) yes…..
me : you see, i told you
fan : i’m sorry, are you steve kill-b…..
k: (emphatically) YES!
me : are you?
k : shut up
fan : steve kill-bee of the churrrch?
k : yes…can i sign something…?
fan : ( giggling) steve kill-bee oh ha ha
k : (warming to it a little) yes….its me ..in the flesh
me : oh ha ha ha hee
fan : steve….?
k : yeah…..?
me : here we go…
fan : steve …..?
k : yeah….?!
fan : (proffering programme for the p.a.m.as)
could you get rick ocasek to sign this?
me : oh ha ha hardy ha ha
k : (blushing ) err…yeah..sure..you wait here
as we re-enter the building
kilbey chucks the programme in a rubbish bin
(or was it a trash can?)
i dig it out n i say
c’mon get that chaps programme signed
kilbey tears it outta my hands
muttering under his breath
about fucking idiots n jesus christs
although he got ocasek to sign it
it still ended up in the rubbish
with the poor geyser probably still waiting out there..
eventually after knocking over sineads perrier water
and pissing meatloaf off
with a veggie jibe
kilbey n i hit the frickin’ podium
we had a speech prepared
but kilbey had ripped bits of it up as filters
over the week since i wrote it for him
plus it had gotten snow on it
and a few pages gone missing
kilbey started off by saying
he thought the p.a.m.a should change their name to
“the pits”
absolutely no one laughed
except me
i laughed at no one laughing
one by one his jokes fell flat
his drummer jokes were badly received
if he’d done his homework
he would have seen
that the vinny capice award for best new group
was named after the late vinny capice
pittsburghs most famous n beloved drummer
who died in a freak accident a month ago
when a steinway piano fell on his head from six storeys up
kilbey then made references to
republicans with crabs
ted nugents left testicle
david coverdales smoking jacket
n tawny kittaens flea collar
william penns penis
and a load of other faux pas n insults
that went down as banga pearson said
went down like a pork chop in a synagogue…
sensing a revolution
i took the mic
ladies n gennlemen…
i said ,soothing the boiling rabble
ladies n gennlemen
tis wiv grate plessha that we read the nominees
for the vinny capice encouragement n special award
for the pittsburgh areas most improved and original group
this prize will include 2 whole days of recording
at nova sound where your sounds are important!
kilbey giggled n quietly burped
i continued…
(but the bugger was trying to put me off
having made a bit of a rum go of things
kilbeys solution was always just then to make it worse
go all the way
n hope salvation is located at that point
where a shambles meets improvisation
n hope for the fuckin’ best)
anyhow
i tried to be serious
kilbeys very demeanour showed he cared not a fig for any of this
his very posture said fuck the fuckin’ pamas
he stood at the podium
stooped shoulders n scratching his head
he hoped he looked stylishly dishevelled
but he looked like a fucking scruff from sydney circa late 80s
anyway
i tried to ignore ‘im
the nominees are:
johnny n the young rockers
(kilbey groans…he hates stupid names like that!)
lenny n the p.a. rockets
(kilbey : god…thats terrible)
little julie n the pittsburgers
(kilbey chokes on his champagne, spluttering)
billy n the bad boys
(he continues to splutter n cough loudly)
and finally but not least
kilbey interjects : but definitely last…
the brad waddlespoon band featuring todd waddlespoon
kilbey : we were gonna call my band that…..
and the winner is…
kilbey…gimme the envelope
him : i dont have it…!
me : (whispering furiously) youre s’posed to..
him : well i dont..
the audience sat there suddenly sobered up
they were stony faced and to a person angrily unimpressed
ah…i say
my voice sounded huge in the silence
like the whole universe was listenin’
to whatever i would say next
ah….i said
we ..ah..lost the envelope
kilbey stepped up to the mike n coughed
onvelope ….he corrected my pronunciation
we stood there awhile
there was movement behind us
rick ocasek pushed aside n said
the winner is…. the .brad waddlespoon band
featuring todd waddlespoon!!!
the place erupted
the waddlespoons came on n played
a truly awful new romantic boogie
no one spoke to us after
we never got paid
we found our own way to the airport
and our flight was delayed
n then after 6 hours on the run way
the plane bounced all around the sky
scaring the hell out of us both
fucking show biz…i ask ya
cue david neils : memory of metal sheets
memory of metal sheets
looking thru dark glass
i think about a stone hearted woman
n how the time go pass
i talk to talking creatures
i climb the money trees
i swim on empty beaches
searching for my sheet metal memories
(from western songs : david neil in the wilderness )