posted on September 1, 2017 at 10:07 pm

same old same old again

yeah my big fat fucking doco

youve heard me

youve read me

you looked at my paintings

now watch my one n a half hour doco for the complete SK fix you know youre craving

me me me me me me sigh yawn me

me swimming

me playing my bass

me blah blah blahing on and on

boy after three fucking screenings i so sick of you kilbey

its a funny film

ha ha ha

look if you love your olde SK as you do

you probably gonna love it

after everything

now this…

it turns out

im just a regular guy after all who happens to be a bit of a “genius”

(chuggys words not mine)

just a regular guy who plays a mean fender jazz and sings like a broken lark

just another  regular angular looking idiot who wrote yer fave song (or whatever)

age still not wearying me

i hop about like st vitus dance

motor mouthing at a hundred miles an hour

narcissus yet humbly stupid and turning arrogance into your bemusement

the jumped up little sod getting his comeuppance and now the bastards come good

hes a regular old guy who chucked together some words and music and created empires in a few peoples heads

god the ones who love me they dont ‘alf fucking love me

and the ones who hate me do so with their fiercely passion

but most people dont care

and if i was them i probably wouldnt care either

a doco thats a populist thing right?

heres the populist me

look i got an arc

i go from one thing to another

does that really happen?

who am i and who are you anyway?

who are we and why are we watching this doco about this geezer for gawds sake..?

there he is up on stage

oh he hes kinda uh self deprecating in a smarmy way which actually implies self admiration

hes got his head in his hands oh its all too much for the god father of psychedic mark 2

weary jaded tired bored talkative gushing animated blah blah blah

oh i bet you cant wait to see it now

theres some great slowed down live stuff

theres some nice recontextualisations of martin kennedys lovely mountain video

theres both sets of my twins

the first set from a distance

the second set up close n personal but already grown up so much from this 2 year old footage

we visit my olde mum who has never remembered the name of one of my songs ever

let alone the words or anything

she just is immune to my charms she always was

i say to her  ‘you like your grand daughters more than me’

she says ‘oh dont be silly son’ and then bursts into laughter because she does

meet Karin the mother of Elektra and Miranda

and co writer of utmw

as usual she has some pithy things to say in her lovely swedish way

haugie shows us some guitar playin’

tim says some cheeky stuff

standing in my old backyard in coogee i opine on myself yet again

i roll joints and i smoke em

i complain and i rave on

im silent and withdrawn having a little bitch about something

heres a real me

the talking song

the throb of my bass between your ribcage and your heart

the incessantly flowing words as i write now talking about

watching myself talking about myself

how i was

how i am now

how i will be

if this sounds appealing then this doco is the one for you my friend

enough SK to have you hit the vomitorium on the way out if youre not careful

ah redemption

fuck i look so fucking tired in this movie

somebody please help

im trapped inside this doco

and i need a fuckin’ holiday





posted on August 23, 2017 at 8:50 pm


yeah ha ha such an exciting time to be a fan of ol’ SK

new church album is done and (fairy) dusted

its not like much that came before

with its new old sound not quite one thing or another

pretty different pretty fresh



another century

i gotta get directions off you

the mirror flare could be anywhere

yeah you probably already heard this song

what a great leap forward this one is

definitely one of the best things the church have ever done

the word brilliant springs to mind but modesty has me refrain



nature loves a winner

we gonna end up some creatures dinner

devil loves a sinner

you were on the menu

youre just a beginner

weird progressive kraut rock song

a whole new sound here too

kinda charming jammy quality


for king knife

a wicked little mannikin

a squirrel and a bird

i heard the show

will start without you

a childs song

a fairy tale sung with wide eyed wonder by a naughty boy

naive rock and english kids books from the 1950s



fly makes a honey man bee sorta

i can see the water

you wanna take the rest of the stuff?

everybody says that we can never get enough

i say to band lets imagine a brand hyped up new band

is in town and youre there and they come out n play their first number

so then this song is the song we were hoping to hear


before the deluge

well i never really had a clue

my hands so full of sandals my feet so tender bare

stumble in a cyclone of drones

theyre watching everything we cannot see

the most typical church track

travelling music

dark and nasty


i dont know how i dont know why

pale glare deceiving

jail bird sings such a sad song

even as the city leaves me

i gotta choose sometime

i gotta lose sometime

jingle jangle spangly rocknroll

simple but different

relentless and throbbing


a face in a film

crocodiles and allegations

the scale of your intrigue

never mind my palpitations 

its like a league of nations

bowieish chorus i guess

but the verse sounds like the police

go figure you fools


in your fog

youre unobtainable in your fog

 unashame-able like a dog

a quite cynical and sad song

with strange bits all glimmery n belly

i dunno how to describe this one but its raw (oh i just did!)


something out there is wrong

when the stars align a line appears so fine

something out there is wrong

gentle and almost folk rock

but echoes of bowie too and that decaying grandeur sound

organic and flowing


dark waltz

and overhead the cameras idiot gaze just blinks and leers

and you apprehend that the weekend that just ended 

has been gone for years

I all over it

feels like never again

when you penetrate the empty sound of the rain

the final track

3/4 time

the dead can always dance to it at dawn



coming real soon, folks!







posted on August 22, 2017 at 9:30 pm

you all know everything here is true

pinches pilot

its just the way i tell it

ive been a sponge for drugs and loud rocknroll

and my once brilliant mind is now dark and haunted


you know when i was twenty

years ago i flew to Los Angeles and

played on david neils sessions for  what would become the wilderness years

but dave had a huge stack of songs

and oh honey was one of them

since covered by that alt country rock band whose very name keeps escaping me

the truth is its daves most fantastic song and an instant classic

the saddest most burnt out song you ever heard in your life

i know because i played on the version that dave recorded

a demo in a place on sepulveda down in santa monica or something

Oh honey that sunny day just faded to a dead white gray

and people say strange things to me about you all the time

but it just made him too damn sad and he shelved it

imagine a cross between neil young and the stones at their saddest and most regretful

oh honey was a knockout

this is a terrible thing to admit here

but after david died i started telling people i had written this song

and in my own defence i must say that the descending bass line was actually my idea

dave told me

steve that damn bass line IS this song now!

so it isnt entirely untrue that i kinda sorta did in a way write this song

plus i suggested some words which david pretended to ignore

but he later secretly adapted them n then denied to all they were mine

so he wasnt the angel you may think

i was telling all this to the captain as we rode the ferry to Cosa Met

except for the bit about me not really writing it of course

i mean she probably would have understood

but sometimes the truth is like a car accident that everyone sees differently

the captain was it turns out nearly 5  years older than me

this is the 80s of course

she had been divorced twice from 2 ‘assholes i dont wanna talk about’

she’d been flying planes for ages

she seemed to have load of money

she was a vegetarian too and she loved oh honey

oh honey is it because youre a bit older than me

that your coldest shoulder is now turned on me

yeah your coldest fire just now burned on me

oh honey i hate it when youre just burning burning cold

Cosa Met seemed like a little island and different little bays

where there were these cottages just back from the shore

like these little huts or something

to flush the toilet you poured a bucket of water down it

it was kinda basic and exotic at the same time

we got the keys at the reception hut made our way to  7

we awkwardly kinda kissed for awhile when we first got inside

then she pulled away and she was asking more questions about david

and oh honey and stuff like that

we had our showers and the water pressure was pretty feeble

funny how you remember things like that

we wandered down to the restaurant that was situated in a kind of garden by the beach

there was a little grove and lanterns and all that

coupled with the warm starry night

it was the material  dreams are made of

at first like a true male bimbo

i had  just wanted to get to know the captain

because she was precisely that

she was the pilot of big old jets

thoroughly shallow i had had the socks impressed off me

yet sitting here under these delightfully romantic circumstances

she was a pleasant and engaging woman and when i made her laugh

there would seem to be a small endorphic reward or something

she appeared to be warming up to me i guess

but we talked about oh honey a real lot

which made me squirm a little in the silk shirt i had just bought

and it seems like theres always some fucking catch that ruins everything

oh honey you dont believe i believe all your stupid lies

oh how time flies past so fast as i listen to the stuff all the guff 

you try to devise but the truth is always there in your sad sad eyes

yes she loved the song and now i knew when she first heard it

and where she had first heard it oh and where she had last heard it indeed

and the other things she associated with it too

we had tofu and cashew nuts and noodles

and some beer and some coconut thing for dessert

what was it you stopped to pick up today?

i asked her during a lull in the conversation

she leaned over as if to kiss me and whispered in my ear

3 small jars of opium. Have you had it before?

oh yeah i lied

we walked along the beach and she put her arm thru mine

and leaned against me like she had known me forever

i liked this it felt pretty good

she abstractly spoke about under carriages and fuselages and baggage handlers

she talked of other countries where i had never been

when we got back to hut 7 it had grown quite dark

she produced her pipe and she produced her stash which looked like small vials of treacle

the pipe heated up then she put the opium in it which curled up in smoke

she took a few deep inhalations and passed the pipe to me nodding

i took a few long hits

oh wow its that familiar taste i never tasted before

but i knew it would taste like this

oh honey what a lonely lovely waste this all is..!

not a spectacular feeling at first i guess

kinda like a warm pleasant drowsiness filled with inklings running across a screen

she nodded at me and i handed back the pipe

this went on and on back n forth for about half an hour

i looked at her through the haze and the candle light

and she looked back at me

im gonna have to lie down i was saying dreamily to myself

she hopped into bed beside me

and we lay there embracing in a strangely chaste and childlike way

occasionally i came out of my trance and would gently nuzzle her neck

wow this is pretty good i dreamed i was saying

 yes of course she yawned kinda indifferently

shook her head and smiled as if to say

did you think that i would lay something fucking feeble on ya?

man i didnt think i could feel so deep and warm and protected

the tiny cabin the warm night the opium and her

some frogs or something or some crickets distantly

i felt so heavy felt so comfortable in my skin

we held on and i dreamed a million miles out and away

but i dreamt of the night itself and i dreamt i had been lying there forever

in an endless night thought had slowed down and all of that

language cannot go where opium can go

this calm majestic splendour and architecture

why couldnt life have been permanently like this..?.. i dimly wondered

oh honey i wonder what you are doing tonight 

after all this time  i still worry that youre gonna be alright

we fell down into the warm black soft womb of opium

it was all mixed up swirling and delicious

youre not supposed to say that about opium

but believe me it is delicious

there is a very heavy price to pay if you use injudiciously

but opium remains a most delicious feeling nonetheless

in my visions and dreams were david and the pilot

it was all out of sync

it was all jumbled up and reflected in waving ripples of pleasure

it was vague and ambiguous and as dreamy as all heaven

soon we were kissing and it was lovely but as tho from a million miles away

it was so unhurried man it was so languid

we kissed for a century in our hut

and only half aware that i even was

my mind was filled with music and women and films and memories

i’m waiting for my mother outside the infants school in Dapto

and she bowls up in our light blue Morris Minor

Quickly son i cant park here she says in her Burnt Oak accent

oh how beautiful she looks today

so young and in charge behind the wheel

oh i am overcome with love for her my lovely darling mother

slowly its all changing

twins are in my arms then they are young beautiful women

another set of twins come along and they too turn into women

my dad is watching on now hes meeting the kids he never met

i think of incredible bass guitar riffs

they go on and on so complex and yet so obvious

why didnt i think of all this before..?

when i sorta open my eyes i’m lying there next to a relatively strange person

she smiles and says hey

where did you go..?

i dont fucking know

where did i just go?

you know there are plenty of awful moments in life

even in this privileged life we lead here in the west

the pain the body produces

the grief of losing your dad

the humiliation and defeat that love can dish out

the ache of memory and the persistent throb of remorse

the thorns of disdain and scorn and mockery

the embarrassment when you fuck up badly and for me that means almost everyday

the harpoon of jealousy reeling you in to your doom

yeah you get the picture

well this night was the diametric opposite of all of that

it was languid hedonistic bliss

and man i dunno about you but that is my favourite thing

oh honey so now everything has gone wrong

i still thought if you just heard this song that i wrote for you

why if it smote you

i dragged it outta my head for you

and i laid it on your bed for you

oh honey have you forgotten how i bled for you..?

the song played on in our heads the soundtrack to everything

like we had been listening to it all our lives

like all our lives we had ever led converged here and now

between us and the opium

and thailand and the warm sea

and the tofu and the noodles

and all the music i had written and all the music still to come

and all the people i knew and all those i was yet to meet

old masters and young mistresses

the rascals n riff raff all in a cavalcade of rolling merriment

then snatched away forever

david and i sitting at a table in a restaurant

hes asking me

you said you wrote my song to just pull chicks steve?

but hes smiling and joking

and the food is delicious before it too is all snatched away

the dreams tumble out of each

she treated me like a plane

as we took off and plateaued and we descended

her hand on my controls firmly she flew me through all of her skies

it was all so slow and i was so sleepy

baby im all confused

see me landing

landing on sea

please come up to the cockpit and rescue me

and tonight we gonna soar

and tonight we gonna get some more

and tonight we really gonna live

and tonight we gonna try n forgive

david down in Seattle where he first got on the stuff

then thats gone

melting dreams into each other smudged and then replaced by the next

superimposition on superimposition

every pleasant thing you can think of

guitars and flowers and sunsets and love

yeah and stuff they dont have words for

yeah and words they dont have stuff for

she got out of bed and meandered to the balcony like the euphrates river

she rambled across the floor like a wandering minstrel

she looked so good in the moonlit room

white as the moon itself she seemed to faintly glow

a blurry apparition of the nakedest woman

but the opium had silenced the beast and so i gazed on in abstraction

the desire was still there

but all the fire had drained out leaving a sweet smouldering warmth

the sheets were so soft

the clouds were so blue

the stars were so white

the time was so stopped

in an everlasting moment i lay on my side

watching her on the little porch just standing there swaying in the night

dappled and slightly clothed in the darkness

beyond her the calmest sea stretching out into green and black

words fell out of the sky into my head

art pulsed behind my retina but in long dissolves

the sand was so yellow

the trees were so still

the restaurant still going down there

you could still just hear the music and laughter

yeah distant merriment thats the best kind

far off revelry? yeah but not too near to me

like seeing new years eve in on the balcony with your one and only one

theres stuff happening all around but you are wonderfully isolated

like going on holiday when youre an enchanted child

and being allowed in your parents bed when youre scared at night

like the names of all the people you ever been in love with

like a warm courtyard on a cold sunny day

these pleasures and so much infinitely more

but all with such a detachment

with such a distance

oh honey we hurt each other so much 

oh honey we flirt and we touch

such a waste such a taste of honey 

oh honey yeah ya took my heart and my money

then you gave me the brush and then the bums rush

she stood on the porch for ages and in the outside world time moved at another rate

a comet shot thru the sky

the world was slumbering but alive

the earth was hurtling but still

a mosquito landed on my arm and it took hours for my hand to travel thru space and squash it

then there was blood on my tanned arm and i gently smeared it away

then there was more music playing in my head

and i attentively listened to it

she came back in and cleaned and reloaded the pipe

the opium bubbled and the sweetest smoke billowed forth

and then the nicest reveries again

oh sister you went n kissed another man

oh honey cant you understand 

that damned near slammed me..?

you took me for such a ride

took my hide and my pride

left me empty inside

oh honey i think i nearly  died 

when you lied sincerely about oh


the smoke was soothing and soft

it filled your lungs

then it filled your heart

then it filled your head

oh honey i said








































posted on August 20, 2017 at 10:47 pm

poseur question

i’m my dream i live this life

and in my life i live this dream

and now my mind is truly blown away down the street

asleep at the deal i got ripped off again and again

but who is the real loser?

the more i shot the more i missed

the more i missed the less i could bear to shoot

eventually the arrows i loosed well all were lost

on a train to the northern beaches to meet with my friend or

on a plane sitting in business class i was trying to chat up the female pilot

she came out and and talked to me too

except we hit some turbulence over the indian sea

an unexpected jolt and i wake up in sydney and its freezing

the flowers in the vases wilting inexorably

the dust and cold clutter

drift away then i dream im on the phone to someone

going round and round and round

im speaking some other language

i cant understand what im saying but this is how i am anyway

jotting down phrases to regurgitate in songs and poems

i strumming my guitar in Cosa Met in Thailand

in a cluster of cottages just back from the sea

someone yells out to shut the fuck up..!

but its too hot to sleep and my friend wants to hear her song

we walk down the beach but the water is so warm

there are no sharks she says as i gingerly enter the black oceans maw

after our swim i pick up my guitar and in some strange time signature

the guitar is detuned now and im too out of it to get it back in tune

i like it just as much like that anyway says my friend more gone than me i guess

sing me the song you wrote about me she says quietly

as we sit on the deck chairs still on the beach

oh there are so many i am saying in the 90 degree heat of the night

oh just play that nice one…you know...she breaks into a little imitation of her song

oh you mean this one but the music and the words come out all wrong and she frowns

you really disappoint me she says sighing

and looking out at the black sea with its reflected equatorial stars

suddenly the deck chair collapses and i’m back on the plane

the stewardess comes up and gives me a note which said

this is your captain speaking

was enjoying our conversation gimme a bell after we land

and (obviously) a phone number scribbled down

one of the other guys sitting next to me says

you gotta be joking man..!

but one of the other guys says

oh leave him alone youre just jealous..!

and the other guy just raises his eyebrows quizzically and says nothing

before we get to Bangkok i am falling asleep tho

dreaming i had woken up in sydney and i was old and cold and told id been asleep

i was just a junky having a fix and nodding off again with my partners in crime

there was an actor and a girl bass player and a solicitor and the dominatrix

and someone who i guess was unemployed but was scoring our stuff and taxing it

we were all sitting round discussing all the great junk we’d shot over the years..

someone is saying

what about that great shit that everyone out west was ODing on..? 

everyone laughed

not as good as that pink stuff from afghanistan tho

everyone sighed

i nod off eventually listening to that old david neil song oh honey

oh honey dont matter dont flatter yourself too much

its so funny now how my touch dont shatter you no more

and the years we spent apart and the years we spent alone together

i never called you honey and i never spent your money 

now dont call me your fairweather friend

or something like that

i thought about david and his quick ruination

the music the mayhem said the article in the NME

when i wake up the plane has almost landed

there are still thousands of people at the airport although its now 11o’clock at night here

it takes forever to find my bag and get through customs

a taxi takes us to our hotel weaving through tiny streets eventually

there are people cooking food along the side of the street

its a real strange smell

we get to the hotel actually its pretty good

its got an aviary of exotic birds outside and fountains and stuff

we all get our keys

whos coming out for a drink n a meal? says banga pearson the tour manager

not him tho…straight on the phone to the captain

he points at me and he sneers in his broad aussie way

she loves that song oh honey i say and shrug

but you never wrote that…david neil fuckin wrote that! says banga

yeah but she thinks it was me i think wickedly to myself

i dont fuckin fancy ‘er you can have ‘er says banga dismissively

and we all go up to our rooms

just as he said i would

i pick up the phone

i dial the hotel where shes staying and i get put through to her room

oh hello you she says i almost lost my job over you..

oh fuck i say

yeah exactly she says

we chat for awhile

she keeps saying how much she loves that song oh honey

i wrote it for you i say ironically but shes canadian or something

and my irony escapes her

listen im really tired but tomorrow im going to get a bus then a ferry to cosa met

she says huskily and yawning

yes..? i say

come n meet me here tomorrow and join me then  she laughs

but wow youre a captain and everything i gush feeling suddenly overwhelmed

yeah and youre the guy who wrote oh honey my favourite alt country rock song

is that the only thing you like about me?  i ask sadly

no but it sure helps she says and makes a soft kissing sound and hangs up

luckily i have a few days before rehearsals start

the next day banga wasnt very happy with me disappearing tho

he was sitting round the pool having a beer and perving at some french women

if she wasnt the fuckin captain you wouldnt be going

and if she knew you didnt write oh honey she never would have invited ya 

said banga

and his words hurt for maybe there was a grain of truth in there

i tuk tuk to her hotel which is much nicer than ours

boy she looks different out of her uniform tho

i hardly recognise her as she comes out with her suitcase

i give her a quick kiss on the cheek and our cab pulls up to drive us to the bus

we drive along and she says an address to the driver

we stop outside a little restaurant

whats going on? i ask

im getting us some stuff for our trip she says and winks and says sssh!

after about 2 minutes she comes running back out

ok lets go to the bus station now she says to the driver staring straight ahead

we only just catch our bus driving to the ferry to Cosa Met

we sit together down the front as the bus bumps over the roads down to the coast

after awhile she puts her head on my shoulder and goes to sleep

and shes dreaming of that song oh honey 

i can almost hear it in her dreams





tbc soon












posted on August 19, 2017 at 10:32 pm

oh steve smokins so bad for ya

fucking cold n hideous wind

the water is delish tho cold n green

becalmed and ready to fly off

all them ions in the fire ya know

and all the iron in the spinach

and all the tea leaf readers in china

bored by my brilliant mind im trying to switch off soon

an hour to kill on a saturday night before being engulfed

the line suggests a melody and if you listen you can hear joni singing it

or my dad and my sister kathy….remembering then

today was not a healthy day for me

last night i could have died i guess

random stupid coincidental work

none of you know me or each other dont presume it..!

think of your individuality there

you are singular

you will go out in a spectacularly singular fashion

we all will..

rockets in some laughing giants sky..

wow the sea doth fucking pound the cliffs

and the night doth fucking pound the day

but for two fucking pounds you could download andromeda Cicciolina

in that hotel room with the message on the mirror that appears as ya having yer shower

the cars roar by outside oblivious to any of it

like lions roaring in the arena having a st paul burger

like the arrows that pierce st steven leaving pools of his glamorous blood

i was on a tv show and the techies were all pushing me around

putting their hands in my pockets and jostling me about

trying to get me to throw a punch so they can all jump on me at once

following me around jeering at me

you aint so fuckin famous now are you you fuckin idiot they sneer and leer

fortunately this merely is a happening in a close by by invitation only address

i was taken in a car to a chilly windy high street and thrown out in my stupid paisley shirt

they sped off leaving me only this descended evening as my conscience

yes i am a tame beast but time has bested me

invested with gravity and weight the years are sucking me down

fuck that shouts the two bit poet in some I-bravado

im sitting outside at a cafe and my nephew walks by

hes tall and thin with a mop of blond hair and we embrace and talk

when i die i wish he could download all my tricks

i think he could be the heir to this kilbey way as well as lou lou

but as females their take is different

i wish i could put my music knowledge on a memory stick for this guy to access

theres no need to grope in the dark the method is established and could be transmitted

instead i will go out in a blaze

and all this intuitive blather ive waited so long to acquire will be gone

someone should benefit

it should be a download available for one million pieces of red kryptonite

that will be the day the day you plug in to dead geniuses modi operandi

with all the right accessories you can paint like beethoven

and sing like T Lautrecs did

i am a knight but i move in diagonals

you see y’can win easier that way when they dont see that coming

in five seconds you can take in picassos 90 years and spit it on prepared paper

you can buy mansions by the bay and impress bimbos with facelifts

youll be befriended by famous cricketeers n everything

ive just mixed up some mahler some rodin and some frank lloyd wrong

furniture music on a discus

discuss discus compactly and move on to section 3 of paper if you were born on earth

apparently we are stardust and golden

but i am moon rusted and silvery old

youll miss me when im a gone

the closer it gets the faster it goes

why the morning whirled by in breakfast and seawater and now

aftershave and tequila and going to bed and a bag of lollies

the sleeping pills are good for you a mixture of antihistamine and mandrake root

the waking pills are just some vitamins and some old style third reich speed

the tequila is good for you its made from a fucking cactus c’mon

the pure white sugar of the cane toad cut with the milk powder of human kindness

let the valkyries swoop down upon my fallen body for verily i have died in battle

on the beach at Utah or Sword my d day finds me incoherent wounded by the wind

the gulls form their arc

the rainbows in the blowing surf

the golden boys buying fish n chips

the sea not giving a toss or a horse

why are you all looking at me i hoarsely scream

in my jesters outfit with the death sceptre

my music comes on in the supermarket

and the cordial bottles unscrew themselves spontaneously

and the bananas shudder in their bunches

and remember when we added raspberry cordial to riccadonna wine?

and one thousand girls with a banana unpeeling it with their bored indifferences

like tonight with tasty dutch lolly

and last night with mrs mortality

and tomorrow night im doing a gig youre not allowed to ever even hear about

huge money keep quiet or we come round n visit your grandmother and break her vase

oh now i feel sick from all the booze and lollies and talent

oh how my head throbs and my toes curl

how my veins corrode and my feet protrude

how my glands pump their lube round my brains

how my nipples get sore under my rashie

how my ears sing in steel voices of music made 40 years ago in a fuckin garage

how the stimulants stimulate and simulate the simian simple simon says

and the frosty ones in the boot for robbo and the boys

and those tricky red lights when you just planted your foot

and those neon bars with all those young fuckin idiots screaming over the disco glare

and you crash into the scene backstage with yer hashish and yer opium opuses

and they squeeze up for their photos with you and the other half blitzed celebs

and the husbands touch you with wonder and the wives grab your lyrics

and the roadies pack up the shambles

and the merch guy fucks off with all the cash

and all the fuckin drum cases must weigh a ton but ya swan around with yer champers

and all the blokes are competing for the invisible bitch as thin as air

but shes looking at you now boyo and she wants to repay ya all yer hits

but then the babysitter at home has discovered yer mushies and is tripping with all the twins

the fire brigade pulls up to put out yer ardour

and you come to face to face with that fuckwit from that band you fuckin hate

hes being nice to ya now but can ya feel it thru the johnnie walker and the jimmy reed?

nico fell off her bike

and chet baker fell off a balcony

but you fell off your own resolutions n crushed your vertical hold

and you sold your already stolen soul for a few sous to some sale

now you merely exist in the memory stick figures imagined by your blind fans

in the kind of night like this

where my dreams are dictated by the banging windows in the fuckin wind

turn up the music to drown out all the sailors drowning

ten couples courting nine crimson doves and keith partridge in a pair tree

to all goodnight i bid you adrift

you motherless wankers and maidens of ire

the cars screaming up these foreign streets

the music i still havent written

the fruit i still aint bitten

the comfy chair i still cant sitten

the life i deserved is reserved

i has reservations anyway

the indian winter is brutal on the balcony of the hare krishna restaurant

all those gulab jamoons and sucking on my lassi furiously

the last straw was blocked

i cocked my fuckin trigger for the (b)last time

to lay down all my arms in your veil

just then a huge whale breached a hundred miles out to sea

the crows multiplied and the doves disappeared and they were crying, yes!

the magpies cawed and the silver chords that i believe bind us to the other

the immensity of this undertaking and its consequences

the velocity a body of light must hit

the rattling panes that try to keep out the night quite unsuccessfully

oh i could go on and on but thats the me you know you wish you love

yes i wish you all love

and with those words

the transmission fading

















posted on August 16, 2017 at 8:08 pm


dawn of a few things

mark me down as absent

shiva zed will be arriving now i can feel it

the cables no longer supply infusion

winters gone spring too soon

i have conquered conquest itself

i have fallen down the well well well

glad you liked my film

glad you liked my life

glad you listened to the song

the new album is next to complete

yes another masterpiece oh how do we do it?

oh i dont know

oh you gonna love it

look its brilliant alright ok well there you go

im having a gin now

my back is a little out

and my head is a little bastard

too cocksure

too unforgiving

too clever to outsmart itself and end up with zero

oh i can still pull this out of the fire

winged victory and bigger nights

charlatan tricks any mug would know

lovely feeling of no feeling at all

takes my mind off my mind

get myself off my own back

look im carrying myself around this dismal flat

look the words pour out of me like sweat

like little universes swimming round your eyes

brimming with the little fishes that suck at an old empire

yeah the new album baby

the new what?

what did i used to know?

oh yeah youll love it trust me

as it goes into your heart like a knife through warm butter

as it all goes to our stupid head crammed in with one thousand idiots

this divine music we have concocted for your delightfulness

rivers of sound melting into pure silences

a whispered word of regret

a distant huge bleeding guitar

then when your number comes up you cash in all your fuckin’ chips

what a strange record it will be

you will be in love with it from it beyond it between it

oh that singers voice singing all that sad weird stuff my my

glad you liked the sad weird stuff oh i hope you still do

i hope i hope i hope i hope against hope

black spider on the wall gonna bite me

its glaring at me with its fifty five eyes

the bats left town

the sea is cold


i stand under the hot shower feeling it soothe my blues

damn spider i wanna fuckin’ squash it but im too scared itll jump me

plus its not very nice to kill something so im just sitting here

but its fucking massive

thats my day

thats my life

thats my film

thats my song

thats me you know

and you know me






posted on July 27, 2017 at 9:26 pm

crystal gazer

on a summer night

i saw you there

the taste of tequila

your cut off jeans

the stones rattled in the ditches

the comets shot in the sky

the frogs warbling in the darkness

the hedges lined the green stormy streets

i touched your neck as you were driving

dont stop you said smiling in a headlight

oh your house is incredible said a voice in another room

the furniture on all its different levels

at the top of the stairs a darkening bedroom as thunder rumbling

an immaculate selection of drinks fruits and teas

all kinds of other interesting things

the blue cats approach

all the stuff hanging on the walls

gods and stuff like that i guess

we sit and talk

i dont listen but i touch like its the most natural thing

stroking her like you would stroke a fawn

softly and with good intent the evening is laid on

oh my little empath feeling her way forward in a harsh world

she loves the creatures amassing much credit

she could harm nothing in her dimmest dream

shes a genie with her obsidian black eyes with the crescent iris

with the deep vaulted heavens above revolving the stars

andromeda titania virgo swept by and the storm abated to leave glorious clarity

in the city where she lived a holiday was to be declared henceforth someday i suppose

the arbours of her cactus gardens emerging from the rain like visitors

the sway and sweep of her tide the warp and woof of her fabric

the impending sentences as she spoke and her characteristic lilt

long black hair pulled back she was so fucking languid

lets go upstairs whispers a voice from another life

follow me whispered the soft stars

take my hand the sky tried to imply somehow

my hand breaks upon her wheels

my head revolves like  her hidden planet in symmetry-less arcs

my brave soldiers are defeated

cruel barbs deflected

arrows of outrageous fortune turn aside

some things well you will just never forget them

other things you will always remember and theres a difference

sorry ive digressed or have been drifting off

little empath says Im a witch dont you know

and she turns into the angel riding wormwood down

the heavenly host trumpet her coming with lightning so they say

with her pharmaceuticals and her tinctures of olde

and her low key glow that illuminates my mind

when i wake up and she is gone tomorrow into her fog

left me with my handful of nuthin’ and my fading dirge

stranded at low ebb in a dream of glittering water

outside the thunder hammered her eaves

her electric car shuddered in its stable

the hours ripped in half and then thrown to the wind

mozart composing the music of the celestial beings now

Klimt dressing the trees in gold

Nero burning the cities on the horizon

the crackle of an electrical disturbance

the past sucked time down into her whirlpool

fleeting pleasure races by and leaves deep ruts of pain

my still heart pounds and shillings

the abject dread of solitude

the voyage begins with a single sail






posted on July 23, 2017 at 7:21 pm

tap tap tap

doing yoga in my little shared courtyard

doing garudasana blah blah blah

im standing there quite stoned on weed and yoga

the voice says enter the stillpoint and remain there

so i do

the feeling persists even after a day

the stillpoint

easy to say enter the stillpoint 

hard to fucking enter the stillpoint

yet miraculously i do

in the stillpoint its marvellously calm

all that thrashing around

what does it add up to?

i go to a party

the praises and blames roll off my back

impervious still in the stillpoint

i float away on a cloud of detachment

i just smile like a vacancy sign on the edge of town

all that fucking music i wrote let it speak for itself

tomorrow i will write more its gonna be alright

my thoughts collide and collect in my empty head

i listen to a bit of the new church album

and i put it into an order and listen to em together

yeah wow golly gee its sounded pretty good but what else would i say..?

theres some strange and weird stuff on this one

beautiful stuff too like another century

if that aint one of the best songs ive ever been involved in i dont know what

its a little masterpiece lush and romantic and ra ra ra

i gotta toot this horn no one else is ha ha ha

yeah man our new album oh god you gonna love this

you gotta love this please dont let me down oh no

i’m playing a thousand gigs i pop up everywhere

i’m out there being a travelling minstrel and i burn down the road

i duck n i weave and steve you know you deceive and are deceived

i am high and low i am wise and so slow

my eyes see right through the fields

my voice is so familiar to you who are reading this now

you can almost hear me saying these words

and smell my neck which is warm and pleasant

and up close you notice i fidget and move nervously

clutching myself as if some great chill is sweeping over me

you think its a smile but its my aching mouth as a grimace

a skull a jaw a brain turning over

now my heart beats out of time with every lie

any lie at all

and it palpitates to the awful truth

and my hands never shake

but my feet tap tap tap nevertheless to an inaudible tune

im writing my lyrics all over your face

my words decorate your army

my songs that no one hears except my dismal pillow

in the hollow of night a phantasm arriving slow

the church songs go on n on in the back of my dreams now

stuff we ripped from the void from the stillpoint

music music music i know sweet music

go on go on go on





posted on July 17, 2017 at 7:42 pm

slim biosis

my flat is freezing

its winter in all my dreams here

its winter in and out

tricked n fooled n frozen n burnt

my old skin stretched taut by the coldness of the sea pool

and the dry electric poison heat from the fire 

its very quiet

i am quite alone with myself

dark corridors flung open within my brilliant mind

and the inky blacknesses spill out and i withdraw

down in the fainting whirl oblivion at the other end

in the darkest darkness where its so still

there i lie awhile

everywhere and nowhere

i travelled out and above the city

i flew up against the softly spitting cold rain

i moved like a jealous thought thru the greenish light

elementals are following me

the word cackling comes to mind although they are making no sound

oh there is so much going on you really wouldnt believe it

i saw everything

now i know everything

everything i never wanted to know but there you go

i want to fade away to rippling white

my mind thinks too much i cant switch it off

i am trapped in here with all these thoughts

it feels unbearable from second to long second

and yet i still endure it

this machine needs to be switched off now

its burning out against itself

i lose chunks of my self ripped off by friction

in my bed i groan no doubt but no one to hear me

i lie shivering in my new black sheets

curled up like a broken eel in a black creek

i twitch and i talk as slumber in the umbrae

all my little baby girls are in pain

i gotta fix everything again

its impossible but i gotta make everything right

even sisyphus would  laugh

a hundred people are shaking me

steve steve steve steve

i am drowning under all the emails

im winning the lottery inheriting fortunes

one thousand i phones are about to be delivered

russian women are willing to marry me now!

as smart as i am i’m as stupid as fuck

and i lead in with my pretty face getting smashed by time

and i bleed all over the floor sending the blue carpet purple

suddenly without the fix of an audience everynight i am  deflated tired

i dont blame all you idiots i only blame myself

and i flog me forward towards tomorrow like a penitent monk

my blood curdles my heart pumps that sludge into my fingers

my toes like ice my burning ears hear your bitching

the worms in the earth turn

the birds in the skeletal tree clack click clack

lonesome whistle of a far off train

in miladys bedroom on the third floor where i should have alighted

in her mirrors i caught sight of myself so furtive and deluded

is that really me looking like that in the impenetrable gloom

through bottles of lickers and bitterest tastes

the sting the bite the claw the talon the jaw the unholy strength

the creatures who appear in my room by just arriving smile

lie down little steven they think

then im seven again and theyre opening up my back

taking something out

putting something in

no no no no no

it hurts so much i cant feel a thing

i scream for mum and dad but theyre on another earth

the smiles  follow me when i run away in my mind

they chase me down wherever i turn

and they always will find me now forever

this is my sorrow but also my joy

i fear the night i fear the silence of this room

i fear the shapes that slide down my walls

i fear to sleep i fear to be awake

so i lie curled up with one eye open

listening to a stuck record of regrets

and waiting patiently for the astral dawn to arrive


posted on June 20, 2017 at 3:49 pm

Conversations With Kilbey Part Two: Lying For Love


When did you first take heroin?


What was happening in your life that led you to heroin?

Nothing really. A friend of mine offered it to me one night, took me unawares, and I had a snort, liked it, and became addicted. For ten years.

Were you trying to quit during that period, or only towards the end?

I was always plotting to get off, but not trying. You always heard that at the dealer’s house – I’m stopping next Tuesday! I’m stopping tomorrow! This is the last time! We all had plans for going cold turkey and being locked in our room. But you would never hear a sick junkie saying he was going to stop. The only junkies who promised they were stopping were those who had just scored or were about to score. Very occasionally you’d meet someone who’d say, I’m never stopping. I know someone like that. Thirty years later, they’re still on it. But that’s rare. Most of them are planning to stop, because life becomes a misery.

At what point did you become aware that it was more of a misery than a joy?

It’s a bit like meeting someone for the first time and being knocked out by them. This is the best person I ever met in my life! I love everything about them! Then you start noticing things. They’re a bit of a bully. Or a bit of a thief. And eventually one day you realise you hate everything about them. I remember the first time I decided to stop to see what would happen. It was terrible, agony, miserable. And I began to fear withdrawals more than anything else. More than being arrested. Withdrawal from heroin is so awful, so unbearable, you do anything to avoid it. It’s like nothing else you could imagine. Nothing alleviates it except for very strong sedatives.

How did you quit, finally?

I was living in Sweden at the time. A woman I knew in the US said come over. I knew it meant going cold turkey. So I went. I had a small bottle of methadone, and after that was gone I went through about six weeks of hell, but I did eventually stop thinking about it. When I went back to Sweden, I tried it again, but something had changed. It did the very opposite of everything I ever wanted it to do. It was awful. It was like it had quit me, not like I’d finished with it. There are many addicts out there who would do anything for a fix but know they mustn’t, but I’m not one of them. I don’t have to go somewhere every day and talk about it. It’s a clean break, history. I haven’t used heroin for seventeen years. These days I drink a little [raises Margherita], smoke a little. Moderation.

What about your creativity during those years? Did heroin help or hinder it?

In the beginning, the honeymoon period, it’s inspiring. I imagine if I wasn’t such a pig and did a little occasionally it would have been different, but I had to do it all the time. I got a lot out of it, a lot of inspiration, ideas, feelings. That incredible feeling it gave me, of warm, soft, sexy, caressing, slippery, nebulous, elusive … whatever that feeling was, I tried to capture it in music and lyrics. I made two records which I love, two of my favourite records. Priest = Aura, and my solo record Narcosis. On that album the drugs had set in a little more and I was starting to come undone. It’s a little bit harrowing in places maybe.

Was anyone else in the band doing heroin?

No. It was just me. The others would smoke pot, take a little LSD, mushrooms. When we got to America, it was cocaine. But the Church was never a huge drugs band by any means. Pot was our main vice. When we’re on the road I have a good stiff drink and a good stiff smoke before I go on stage, gives it a fresh perspective, helps to reinterpret the songs. Bit of bravado, bit of energy. Alcohol and weed are great if you use them with respect, ritualistically, not out of habit. At home it’s different. There’ll be alcohol in the kitchen but I won’t touch it.

You don’t hang out with the band, do you?

Not at all, and they don’t hang out with each other.

What’s happening?

We just made an album, and we’re touring the new single in America at the end of this month. I don’t know what the rest of the set will be. We’ve got like thirty albums to choose from. It’s like an election process for what songs get played, such a joke! We can’t do that song, it’s too popular! We can’t do that song, no-one’s ever heard of it! We can’t do that song it’s too fast! Too slow! In the wrong key! Everyone’s got a veto. You can suggest a song, and if one of the band says no, that’s the end of it. The idea that I’m like this mastermind, this Svengali controlling the group, telling them what to do … it’s so wrong! I go along with it, I want a quiet life.

Does Further/Deeper seem like a long time ago already?

Oh yeah, it does. It really really does. I thought it was the best thing we could have done at the time. I didn’t think it was a masterpiece but it had some pretty good moments.

It’s a deep and complex album – was there a lot of preparation before you went into the studio?

No – we just switched on the tape recorder and knocked out the songs. But then people would add overdubs, spend two or three days or whatever adding ornamentation, levels, tightening it up. Like if you’re writing, you go back and polish and edit, that would be an analogy.

Are you writing?

I’m working on a complete collection of my lyrics. It’s going to be a huge book, about a thousand pages. The last great project of my life.

I like the vagueness of your writing. I enjoy not understanding it literally.

Yes! I agree! I’m with you. A lot of records you hear on the radio – you don’t know what the fucking lyrics are. Doesn’t matter. Sometimes the words you think they’re singing are better than the true words.

Is the truth important to you? Do you ever lie?

If it’s to do with matters of the heart, I can tell some terrible lies. But anything else, I usually tell the truth.

You seem very unpretentious. You undersell yourself and underestimate your own achievements.

No. Sometimes I’m absolutely full of myself. I’m a genius! Who else could do this? Mine is a high and lonely destiny! If only they could understand! I do get carried away with myself. But I’m always self-aware, even when I’m being my most egotistical, insufferable self.