blog

posted on April 5, 2017 at 5:01 pm

zeitgeist #82/83

(blog commissioned by KN)

boy in 1982 i was somebody else

and i was making my third album

i was a confused little pouting ninny

our 2nd album had done pretty good

but an EP called sing-songs had kinda bombed

so here we are

late 1982 after a tour taking in sweden where i met karin jansson

in australia i was dating that glamorous newsreader

yeah you know who i mean

the heroin years still 8 years ahead of me

angular blah blah blah

living in terrace house with russell in rozelle

lots of people sitting around taking drugs

scruffy young art college types

bonging on and smoking cigs

white wine and negative photos and clothes patterns and demo tapes

open fire me and russell both slightly pyro playing around with it

the phone rings with girls asking for russell

our voices are similar

sometimes they think i am him and its embarrassing

when i say no actually thats my brother...

i got my studio in the front room

i gotta 4 track tape recorder

and im knocking out tunes by the dozen

i go in there and i fire up the equipment

i gotta tr808 drum machine

which is responsible for a lot of the drum patterns on seance

unfortunately

demo-itis had gripped the recording of seance by the balls

the demo versions were too closely adhered to and it was my fault

the songs never got to really blossom and flow like on blurred crusade

and again on heyday

they remain kinda rigid

lyrically i seem to be playing the part of some Byron-esque melancholia addict

reaching through a medium to find my dead fiancee or whatever the fuck its supposed to be

the agony of separation

the romance of death

the triumph of love

puh-lease! spare me…

anyway back in 1982/3 this is where my head was at

total demos

every song sounds just like a well recorded demo

i have 2 great guitarists and a great drummer

but they ended up mostly playing the stuff from the demos

i dunno if i intended it to be this way

but i can see now what a bad idea it actually was

the songs never breathe

locked into these formats i have devised

every instrument plays its counterpoint pattern

everything is made up of little patterns

the drums the bass the guitars the tinkly keyboard bells things

listen to one day made up of interlocking riffs

only at the end of the guitar solo does any freedom happen

the whole thing was totally compounded

when EMI in their wisdom insisted on hot shot wunderkind Nick Launay mixing it

Launay had done some great work with midnight oil and rejuvenated their sound

but his early eighties box of electronica tricks makes the church sound merely dated

i dont blame him

he had his one special sound at that stage and thats what you got him in for

anyway seance ended up sounding boxy and tinny and flat instead of big and soft

i couldnt do anything about it

it was beyond my power to stop it

the whole album is a weird proposition i think

its always the album those old style church fans like

we rarely play anything off it either

its got that great cover picture taken by russells girlfriend kim

its got that ridiculous track travel by thought

‘a stoned jam that never should have made it into the studio let alone out again’

(said someone in melody maker i think)

its got that great joy division influenced track it doesnt change

its got that great opener fly

(the girl dies in the first song so bloody miserable is seance)

theres a few flashes of sunlight but mostly its sad doomed love stuff

4th form poetry and slightly clunky songs

i dunno now its so long ago

i listened to it last night before i wrote this

its ok i guess but a feeling that the bands wings are clipped often pervades

this was the album where i was at the height of my control freak period

i had it all figured out exactly how it should be and i oversaw the whole thing

we were victims of the zeitgeist and there is definitely some dated ideas in there

some underdone songs

and a load of flat singing

flat as a freaking tack jack

one review said that my voice made the one note samba look tuneful

it was a hugely pretentious affair but so fucking what?

i wanted to make a sad but triumphant album

i wanted seance to be a gambit

i knew that somewhere some people in the future would totally dig it

i knew it would probably not do that well at the time of its release

for one glorious week it entered the charts at 13 in australia before falling like lead

in england it managed to go in for one week at 42

its incredible to think it was 35 years ago that we did this record and that people still like it

if you have listened to seance recently please give it a review in the comments

(if you’d care to)

yeah seance 

as one  nasty review said:

close but no sugar lamp

 

 

 

 

posted on April 3, 2017 at 10:04 pm

(a commissioned blog for BC)

yeah as you all know i became a veg around 17 years of age

it seemed like good idea at the time and it still does

if i am at all youthful and a survivor of the scourges of drugs

surely it can only be my vegetarianism at the bottom of it all

because vegetarianism is just the right thing to do all the time

dont kill things dont eat their flesh

man its the most lose/lose scenario you can imagine

a devils deal: murder begetting misery

its only obvious

if you humiliate and torture some creature its whole life

if you kill an innocent beast with an axe or a bolt

how can it be that this will not come back upon you?

on every single level that something can affect you

spirit

body

mind

chemical

karma

meat is bad medicine my friends

that decaying flesh decomposing from the minute that creature dies

chopped up in some nightmarish gory filthy abattoir

its grisly remains are hacked into bits and packaged up

the ugly work of a world gone wrong

it is perversion to eat this rotten rubbish when its unnecessary

people wake up to the fucking truth

meat is killing our planet along with a few other stupid things

that carcass hitting your guts and travelling round in your intestines

your intestines long n winding road

and with weak digestive juice

that bit of corpse in your guts for up to three days going off

your stomach aint no freezer

put a piece of meat in a glass on a table with some weak acid

see what happens

the things we are meant to eat dont rot in the same way

veggies and fruit dont rot like meat

nothing rots like meat

this flesh full of adrenaline and fear

are we not men so high and moral

with all our art and medicine and science and all the rest?

so how come we are butchering and shooting and trapping and murdering

all the other residents of this planet

torturing em

testing soap and cigarette smoke on em

sawing their heads off

skinning em alive

tell me my friend

how would you like to be strapped down

and some bastard cut off your ears

and pull out your teeth or your nails with pliers

put ya in a cage where cannae fucking even move

if you have children they are dragged from you screaming at birth

youre stuck in a black stinking place

surrounded by other wretched beasts each unmoving in their pen

all you know is hatred and scorn and pain and savagery

didnt your god who made you make that pig or that chicken too?

news flash tho

scientists only a few years back are saying hello! animals have feelings now

that they feel pain and love their young

well no fucking kidding thank god for that

gee here i was all these years thinking its fucking obvious that of course they do

of course they dont wanna be treated how we are treating them

we are idiots with cunning brains and opposable thumbs

and we have made everything elses life on this earth a fucking misery

humanity ruining things as usual

not to mention what humanity does to humans

who cares

at least thats our business more than this huge evil conspiracy of killing

imagine explaining it to some aliens who turn up here

yeah well yeah we kill those creatures and eat them

we breed them in squalor and agony

and at the end of their pathetic existences

they are cruelly despatched by some cruel numbzombie who gets paid to kill em

yeah hell on earth

could hell even rival the slaughterhouse and its hidden pain and horrors..?

the blood and the shit and the piss and the guts

the disembodied heads

the hides and skin ripped off

the eyes and the feet and the torsos

jesus christ oh my people wake up to ya selves

do not ever eat this foul poison again

eat vegetarian for everythings sake

youll be healthier better cooler nicer

you’ll be a real man or real woman

a real human

raise your kids as vegetarians i did

they are all vegetarian

refuse it

abhor it

take to the streets and social media and declaim it

study the animal men who eat lots and lots of meat

coarsened and ugly and becoming animals themselves

their hideous carnivorous aura radiating bad fucking vibes

what do you expect?

you are what you eat

you eat bacon and pork no wonder youre a repulsive pig yourself

your mind unable to perceive subtle vibrations and the earths emanations

becoming what you hate because surely you must hate animals to be part of this killing

the pig eater becomes the pig why its as plain as the handsome nose on my face!

dont eat meat you selfish greedy idiots full of bloodlust

do something for this planet and all your co inhabitants

and get off the evil excuse for food that meat is!

evil rotten stupid habit

oh my doctor says i need vitamin b 13

where the fuck are the elephants and gorillas getting their b 13 from, i ask you?

they live on grass and fruits

why dont you ever meet an anaemic gorilla who needs some sirloin to rescue it..?

its all bullshit!

the proof is in the pudding

despite all the stupid things i have prevailed only because of vegetarianism

my songs are vegetarian songs

my words are vegetarian words

my mind and body are vegetarian

i pity the carnivores

they are taking on so much cosmic sludge and so much death

with every nasty little bite

instant karma as yer blood pressure goes up

your chance of heart attack and stroke and cancer

im sure at the bottom of almost every disease there is something to do with meat

think about it for one minute

the amount of unnecessary killing going on every day

all those souls in torment

that cloud of negativity surrounding our planet like a dirty smog

people join with me now in a vegetarian league

dont eat meat

dont be part of it

become cleansed of the muck

and tell everyone you meet

DONT EAT MEAT!

 

oh and enjoy yer prosciutto you hypocrite!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

posted on March 26, 2017 at 11:08 pm
hope

hope

WARning : this blog has been commissioned 

it is about heroin and it is a fictionalised account 

of lives lived in a day

 

So i’m riding the train to the vietnamese part of town

and its taking forever

yeah i am riding along

maybe you dont recognise me

i was hurled into this world with enough past life baggage

to check into the white hotel for evermore

how the hell would i know what it was..?

but it was something that was a big hassle

i had no screaming esteem

i could not dig myself at all for sure

as the slow old train wound its way to my destination

my self esteem was not picking up any steam

i sat there attacked from all sides by pain ache despair and anxiety

and thats just the stuff you can give names to…

there are the other formless nameless horrors

bearing down on me and it felt like the whole world

finally we get there and i wander around trying to make eye contact with someone

sometimes the dealers actually greeted ya as you got off the train

today they werent there so i walked through the shops

i make eye contact with a vietnamese guy about the same age as me

ie early forties

he sidles over to me gracefully

what you want ? he smiles

i do only hundreds. this is the best stuff you ever had in your life. i promise you!

i nod my head.

i heard that best stuff line a thousand times before

hissed in swedish

guffawed by an irish guy

sneered to me in cockney english

in matter of fact american

an enthusiastic old mexican guy whose stuff actually had been the best

but i am conflicted because this guy looks like he wouldnt have said it

if he didnt mean it

because yeah

he said it with the pride of merchant who knows he has the best fucking merch

i follow him to a restaurant and he bids me wait and pulls up a table and chair

he disappears out the back into the kitchen

the people in the restaurant all watch me sadly as they eat their noodles and chilli

its seems like an eternity that i sit there

the people go on with their low drone of conversation

i guess they all know why i’m here

eventually he comes out and puts down a little square object on the table

two? i say…

he nods and puts another little package down

i give him 200 bucks and i walk back and get on a train home which is even more agonisingly slow

somehow those 2 little packets sitting in the change pocket in my jeans are keeping the lid on things

i take a bus and eventually i get into my empty and neglected house

where children had once played was now only dust and a sullen darkness

my friends never liked me enough and they were gone

the wives and girlfriends had never loved me enough and they were gone

the music had been too loud and my hearing was gone

the sweets had been too sweet and some of my teeth were gone

the money in the bank had been too easy and now it had mostly gone too

still i didnt care

i had snuck a peak at my packets and i knew i was holding the real deal

after crumbling off a bit and tasting it

yeah there was that familiar old bitter taste

up in my room i got the ritual ready

a silver spoon still with this mornings cotton filter in it

i pulled a needle out of the large family sized pack of needles

gotten from the pharmacy up the snobby road

where the pharmacist had visibly winced as he took my cash

because dope users had all kinds of diseases…

anyway i take out the packet and examine my dope

its in this aluminium wrap and it looks like a small caramel  square

it is extremely yellow

the most yellow dope i have ever seen in my life

like yellow ochre i want to say from my paint set as a child

yeah definitely yellow ochre

i take about one third of the block and put it in the spoon

it has the consistency of some soft sweet or something

then i draw up half a needle full of water and squirt it into the spoon

then i pull the plunger out of the needle

and with the small black spongy tip

i mix up the yellow dope into the water

until the solid dope is disappeared into the now thick yellowy water

putting the plunger back into the syringe

i throw a tiny cotton wool ball into the spoon

the cotton wool absorbed most of the mixture and turned yellow

i apply the needle to the cotton wool

and from it i suck up all the yellow solution of dope in the spoon

then i fish around in my arm for a vein

there a still a few ok veins left to hit but its getting trickier and trickier

it takes about 5 or 6 long sweaty minutes

before a small flash of blood appears in the chamber of the needle

i carefully suck up some more blood

which swirls through the yellow dope creating horrifically beautiful shapes

then i push down ever so gently with my thumb as the stuff drains into my vein

a direct injection into my living mainframe

the feeling is overwhelming an exciting rush

it instantly erases every single worry doubt ache cramp nausea anxiety and nightmare

then

you stagger back and sit on the bed

you dont care that youre alone and unshaven and shabby in this dim messy room

you dont care that tomorrow was another day you gotta somehow find another hundred bucks at least

the  rush brings the taste of the dope into the back of your throat

its a bitter medicinal taste but now youve grown to love it

you sit there and in the wake of the rush comes the calm

wow! things arent too bad…i guess…are they..?

oh boy youre so serene and wise and detached and beyond it all

the whispering of the empty house silenced

the murmuring of the voices in your head is gone

your dismal room seems cheery and muted

you just sit there happy content warm and comfortable

you just sit there quiet easy nice soothing

everything is just so cool actually

youve scored some nice dope so fuck the bills and the work and the gossip and all the rest

once you were doing ok and now youre plainly not but fuck all that!

who cares about all that stuff anyway?

and then your head starts to slump and your eyes are starting to close

your nodding and then catching yourself you snap out of it

and yeah youre still sitting on the bed in the dim old room

a stupefaction has come down upon you now

you enter these realms of pure fantasy which last for one millisecond only

but during that millisecond in the dope world time is passing at another rate

you keep snapping out of it and blinking your eyes and youre still sitting on the bed

its 630 pm and its raining outside but outside no longer exists for you

your head falls forward again on your chest

and then you nod right out and curl up on the bed

behind your eyes are a million dreams

you seem to walk along this corridor sampling every dream

and every dream is unbelievably fantastic and more real than real

eventually you are dreaming you are this man

and youre married to this beautiful woman

oh boy what a wonderful marriage you have

oh man that woman of your dreams here in your dream and yeah she loves you

well you are a good man and you live your life here in this dream

and you and your wife have one two three handsome sons

and you watch them grow up

and you walk through the snow with them in winter

and through the soft warm sunlight of the dreampt summer

and the boys grow

and your wife loves you

and you fix up your house in the country

hey tho…

maybe its like a hundred years ago or something…

theres even some horses and animals and a war

but you go and fight in the war and you are triumphant and your side always win

when you come home the beautiful wife who youve been married to for like 30 years now

she is still young

the weather is always nice

the daughters in law and grandchildren all love you

everything in your life is happy and righteous and good

friends come over and you sit long into the nights

laughing and eating and drinking and being satisfied

youve been living here in these lovely woods for so long

youve planted all the trees and seen them all grow

you and that lovely wife whose name is always on the tip of your tongue

the fish in the river they are so silvery

the birdsong in the air is glorious

the crowds fluffy on water colour skies and the warming sun

the cooling white moon of the long perfect evenings

the mornings in bed with that gorgeous wonderful obliging wife

man she loves ya all up!

the white sheets the soft eiderdown the moving curtains in the zephyrs of spring

those sweet kisses those lovely sleeps when its all over

yeah you roll out of bed ready for breakfast have a look in the mirror

yeah age has not wearied you brother

you are strong and firm and decent and handsome and popular and kind and good

so many days stretch behind you

so many days stretch away ahead

days full of doing wonderful things

days full of wonder and light and peace and love

the whole world swings through space and the whole universe is in accord

problems you just laugh away

your 3 fine sons and your most gorgeous wife who loves you so much

youve worked so hard for all of this although it seems effortless

on a day like this so perfectly crisp and so immediate and new

if there is a more happy satiated contented man on this earth he would be hard to find

man this goes on for even more years and years and years…

what? click!

suddenly i open your eyes to find its 6.34 on a rainy evening in winter

and im lying on a bed in a cold dim room and theres no one else is home

and theres the needle and theres the spoon and theres the cotton

and a small drop of blood coagulated on my arm

and that whole life i just led is cruelly snatched away

that glorious world where i was a king

and that lovely wife you had and family…

im nothing here just a shabby hopeless dodgy dope fiend and a wretch

bang! its all taken away from ya just like that…

and then just as im thinking about it all i nod off again

and that pleasant memory is nearly almost totally erased

but even through all the next series of dreams

that i will have before the next shot in a few hours time

the incandescent memory of that world burns bright

in some harsh contrast between that world of wonder

and the darkened sad empty dusty rainy evening

which is enveloping us right now

as i lie in the room upstairs in the lonely house

and i start to dream it all again

 

 

for JB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

posted on March 25, 2017 at 12:54 am
look downward angel

look downward angel

all those magic books making me longing for something quite marvellous

all the times in the caravan by the black lake with the blue cranes

all those tiny red sweets your lovely sister sucked on

all those planes at night in the sydney sky

yeah i am coming home laughing up the drive

the drizzling warm wind turning my umbrella mind into a wand

wandering aimlessly i come to the seapool and dove in

in the middle of the night i was alone in the water except for the rain

as i swam around weightlessly my breath escaped in silver wriggling bursts

thirsty for your fathoms down father i sank in disappearing circles

underwater the clouds held me down by my toes

my unstitched shadow was violently thrown against the sand

drowning in bed where absence has unmade it

up and above it all my angel protects and guides me like a weapon

in all spheres we are each represented by another spirit

in water air fire and earth am i put together

in gold love hate and evil pulled apart

in the loneliness of a crowded hotel the noise killed my ear

in the embrace of a memory the drink had dulled my mind

in the hand you offered a strong suit a firm shake

the new car slipped through the rain like Vsnu’s disc

i forgot to mention how warm i was feeling now safely falling home

a streetwalker a roadworker an old timer a 2 timer

tell her you do yoga says a voice in another room

you already said it grumbled the horizon which was dividing the elements

in the reflection in the mirror on the table in the corner

in the room inside the house in the quietest night imaginable

in the silence that comes into the night leaked from another world

in the things in themselves without their shells and their shields

like a sword apprehension cuts through the sway

under the green sea light i dont look like anything

under the nets and the buoys and the place where they tie the sea up

under the canopy of the surface of the very sea itself

i look like anybody else just slipping into inkiness

just a white flash of flesh in the eel filled murk

in the loneliness of a gethsemene sold for silver

in the horror of golgotha place of skulls

an echo of the groaning slaves seem to come from the sea caves

i escape with a rap on the knuckles but reality still buckles

i dream up the man i am but i slam into concrete discretion

still i’m laughing and singing and beginning that long walk to you

the tide is like the seas hide or the seas side

where land ends i should have pretended to sleep

instead some mimic in me mocks the coincidences and the stimuli

the connections between the nodes motherlode of overload

i jammed up a storm in a chinashop i couldnt stop the bull

my hands shook as i played but it was not the music it was reading your book

lofty words in a stack on the floor

i am complete i am completely complete said a voice in another room

you are the dawn mentioned paul eluard to his companion

we are there announced the voice that comes through sometimes

when youre collecting for rushes by the side of the sea

when your friend says suddenly stand beside me

when your mind has been fucked by this and by that

still i’m laughing and singing and floating in this flat

as the blue night turns to musk

i trust in slumber my reverie will be of all of thee

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

posted on March 23, 2017 at 9:15 pm
dead mans dream

dead mans dream

when i was a young man death seemed like an obscenity to me

but now i am old and growing weary it seems like a friend waiting down the end of the track

maybe holding out some sweet oblivion

a well deserved rest from all this strife and quarrel

all this desire and struggle

a chance to meet my people who gone on before

to prepare me a room in its great mansions

like an arrow i will fly into that bardo

like a bolt my shining imperishable soul will leap forth from this dreary casing

like a javelin lancing the sky i will shoot away from this plane

veil of tears wrenched away

O let there be reunion in the glow of krsnaloka

O let me go there to paradise to nirvana to heaven

body of light

hands of the stars

eyes piercing maya

perceiving for the first time how fucking magnificent it all is

as a thinking man knowing energy never disappears it only changes form

as a knowing man thinking all of us kings will return

yes i believe some jesus will be meeting me there

some incorporeal angel with soothing fingers of forgetfulness

some valkyrie lifting me out of my battle unto valhalla

some electric female spirit charging me double

yeah forefathers and dead friends

yeah weep no more O my brother why these tears..?

i am returned to you

reintegration of loveliness now i am no more

a whispering wind over the dunes and dark rippling sea

a song you half remembered from so long ago before yourself

baby light bringer

song of the morning star

the lingering fading smell of distant perfume in the soft rain

man i love you all

woman i love you all

lets all get together people in the house of the lord

we will walk through the gentle vales and marvel at the swans

the sound of the flute deep in the jungle

krsna and radha together again love

mum and dad and girls and boys and all the dogs and all the cats

what more could you ever want

after life will be more life love

 

this blog for AC

 

 

 

 

 

posted on March 20, 2017 at 10:25 pm
abide with me

abide with me

yeah yeah yeah i know i was being stupid

but i took some codeine

then i went out and had a drink and a smoke

i was at some friends place outside

i was gonna make a phone call to somebody maybe my mother

next i thing i know a bunch of concerned people are hunched over me

you were out says frances who is a good friend as shes like cradling my head

im sweating and my head is throbbing

i beg for no ambulance and i sit down for awhile and then i go home

frances incredibly kindly slept on my couch so that she could keep an eye on me

ok thats enough of that

yes im going to the doctor tomorrow so whattya think shuttup with the advice and listen

because the place i went to wherever i went where i went

ah yes it was the purest bliss

an incredibly beautiful person she was talking to me there

we were talking oh for hours in what must have been only a minute or so of unconsciousness

a beautiful place maybe i was talking to an uh angel or sumpthin’

there was no pain there was only light and there was only love

man i aint saying that was necessarily heaven

i wasnt dead i was just knocked out loaded as bob says

but man oh that place and oh that angelic presence

wow is that really what a knock on the head can do?

remember back in 08 when i got dehydrated and collapsed

well that place was hellish a dark roaring abyss

this was the opposite my friends

i cant describe how shocked i was to wake up

and find out i was just some old geeza whos collapsed in a garden in bondi

it seemed like that was the dream a painful aching sweaty complicated dream of bother and dismay

the other place was serene it was sacred it was my hearts desire and i met some presence there

it was a stupid thing but the vision remains of palpable peace and harmony of some other plane

i went there and stayed for hours even as i said it was a only a minute

it changed something in me

something im not sure what yet

i know ive hurt myself a bit with my body and my head

yet i still did 20 laps at the pool today

im seeing the quack tomorrow so cool out ok?

concentrate on the vision i perceived there

verily i tell you my cats

it was the bees knees

posted on March 15, 2017 at 11:06 am

my dear readers and friends

you are all bored stupid by now with hearing about musicians and songwriters are earning virtually zilch these days

well here i am and i am in the same boat with no tours coming up and nothing coming in so to speak of and 3 kids to support

so i put this to you

A) you can still buy every solo album i ever made and then some for a hundred bucks

stevekilbey.bandcamp.com

B) for 50 bucks you can commission me to write a blog about absolutely anything you can think of

C ) for 50 bucks i will do you a postcard sized original painting on high quality art paper which will be signed numbered and thanked by me

i am sorry it got to this and i would most be humbly grateful if any of ya can help out until something comes along

my paypal is stevekilbey@gmail.com

if you dont want any of that stuff you can still make any contribution and i will be eternally grateful

SK

 

posted on February 21, 2017 at 11:20 pm

i and ii and i

a guy in china

tim earnshaw sent me his book

a brilliant rumination on who I actually is

and what is time

and all that kind of thing

the book is set in the present tense

its funny its sad its sobering

its philosophical  and eventually touches on the buddha himself

asking the questions

what is all this stuff?

who am i?

what is the true nature of the past and the future?

earnshaw is the observer the observed and the observation

we spend an endless second with him in a continuous moment

on a train of thought

as he brilliantly dissects time with his razor of reason

he searches for the me yet fails to locate it

everything is perspective and we are all deluded

its true

buddha would have called it maya

but time is not what we think

in fact it is nothing

only willed into existence by humans

as the joke goes:

as a way to stop everything from happening at once

the book is a paradox

its nihilistically hopeful

its not some dry old bit of academic jargon either

its eminently readable and entertaining

many wont get it though

but it was certainly right up my alley i tell you

very  grateful he sent it to me

easily one of the very best books ive ever read

his use of language is impeccable

he points out lots of tiny details youve probably never noticed

he connects up numbers and words and ideas you thought had no connection

all the time he addresses you the reader

you can hear the voice in his mind as it dictates this book to him right now

much beyond that i cannot describe this marvellous volume

a real treat that you’ll enjoy as well as making you think

9 and a half stars out of ten for this baby

 

http://rebuddharedux.blogspot.com.au

 

posted on February 13, 2017 at 4:57 pm
a new spin

a new spin

martin and i have our fifth album ready soon

man its been a long time we been partners in this

martin provides all the music

i provide the singing and the words

there was our first lovely album quite minimal in places

the second album melodic and poppy

the third album suddenly we hit a real peak

the fourth album growing and changing

now we have album number 5

glow and fade

and lo we are now some weird prog rock duo

with lots and lots of floydian references

the slide echo guitar

the percolating synthesisers

the sheer length of track two and its transformations

the songs are about wide eyed naivete and crushing cynicism

the void the crowd

nature of time

time of nature

the struggle and the defeat

love in all its old disguises

the illusion the disenchantment

the mistakes

it really is quite a journey and the moods are departures from before

i think this a special record and those who may dig it will certainly dig it

yeah

amen

 

 

posted on January 26, 2017 at 10:33 pm
watt ever

watt ever

compound fractured now

the beginning and the end of us

a short spell and we are all off

i hallucinate the humdrum

superimposing it on a magnificent reality

beyond all this illusion and all this maya

glory is unfolding like the darkest vanilla

like a shot curving through the air springs forth spirit

spirit free of mind

mind free of body

body free of death

death free of life

another ten minutes disappears into the gloom like a messenger

my thoughts wander like stupid animals and are run over on the highway of synapse

whether i am an idiot or a poet

whether i am good or bad

whether i am right or wrong

thoughts bubbling up from a babbling fountain of inanity

this and that

so and so

such and such

mind out of control

stop mind stop! i would say

but it would only be mind saying it to itself

mind thrashing wailing kicking trying to escape

mind full of memories

the fading ones

and the ones you wish you could forget

mind full of women and graveyards and weather and facts

mind full of music and books and rivers and morning

and children and friends and bastards youd like to strangle

mind full of paint and film and past lives that can barely be apprehended

guitars and cars and arrivals and transitive meander

the dumb pull of the hand

the blind touch of the tongue

the fiery chakra at the base of the spine

the saint in me watches on sadly

the dreamer awake with fingers full of dream

down another level and everything is heavier

up another level and we just float away

whatever it is i am trying to say

suddenly… it doesnt matter anymore