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your fool in Fulham

meandering narcissistic introspection the story so far I am in London guv’nor where it all fucking started when my dad met my mum both working class cannon fodder for the empire as it has been forever go back on both sides yep my dad as a royal marine in ww2 both grandads in ww1 one half blinded the other gassed further back you got the Boer war and the crimean war and all the other fucking wars some bastard dreamt up who was never gonna fight in them himself the English…I mean what do you make of em? well…they (we) gave you the Beatles and the stones and bowie n bolan so I guess I can forgive em for all the other nasty stuff that happened (like um America n India n Australia etc) and so here I am just one more tiny troubadour your favourite foppish minstrel still wandering the globe man I sing I play I travel I write I stay in hotels I tread the boards me n my trusty bass I am in fucking love with that thing that thing is my flesh and we do stuff together without thinking when I play it I am on the verge of some cosmic orgasm that I ride and I surf yes I feel just like Jesus son my brilliant words come rushing out my pommy throat I have written these songs for you you who truly love me and understand me you who know the weight on my back and my tragedies and triumphs these songs I dragged screaming and teaming from my English head yeah my dad played the piano yeah my mum would have liked poetry if she coulda got her hands on any after she was bombed her whole childhood and then sent to […]

Photo on 13-6-18 at 9.40 am

fool of fools hill

meandering narcissistic introspection

the story so far

I am in London guv’nor where it all fucking started

when my dad met my mum

both working class cannon fodder for the empire as it has been forever

go back on both sides

yep my dad as a royal marine in ww2

both grandads in ww1 one half blinded the other gassed

further back you got the Boer war and the crimean war and all the other fucking wars

some bastard dreamt up who was never gonna fight in them himself

the English…I mean what do you make of em?

well…they (we) gave you the Beatles and the stones and bowie n bolan

so I guess I can forgive em for all the other nasty stuff that happened

(like um America n India n Australia etc)

and so here I am just one more tiny troubadour

your favourite foppish minstrel still wandering the globe

man I sing I play I travel I write I stay in hotels

I tread the boards me n my trusty bass

I am in fucking love with that thing

that thing is my flesh and we do stuff together without thinking

when I play it I am on the verge of some cosmic orgasm that I ride and I surf

yes I feel just like Jesus son

my brilliant words come rushing out my pommy throat

I have written these songs for you

you who truly love me and understand me

you who know the weight on my back and my tragedies and triumphs

these songs I dragged screaming and teaming from my English head

yeah my dad played the piano

yeah my mum would have liked poetry if she coulda got her hands on any

after she was bombed her whole childhood and then sent to work

after looking after a load of snotty nosed little brothers

my mum n dad had no pretension to arty stuff

my mum had to cook n clean n work

and my dad had to work 6 days a week to put bread on the table

outta that arises me

a freak an anomaly a rebel an idiot a cheeky naughty little boy

thanks dad I’ll have the music from you

thanks mum for reading me Robert Louis Stevenson n Lewis Carroll

thanks beatles for inventing rock music

thanks bolan n bowie for showing me how it could be done

and then I am fucking off n running

just like my dad I taught myself everything I fucking know about music

fuck your stupid rocknroll universities they will produce no Bob Dylans anytime soon

I stood back and I grokked it baby

I grokked it for myself

and only a very few could see my manifest destiny

that I was gonna write a thousand beautiful songs

and the rest of the world can go to hell

let em eat mcdonalds n fried chicken

let em listen to axle fucking rose and whoever the fuck is number one now

im Kilbey and I write the stuff. you gonna listen to all your life

right from for a moment we’re strangers on

you will listen and keep loving this stuff for the rest of your life

people will ask : who’s that yer listening to..?

they won’t understand

they don’t understand vegetarianism

they don’t understand magic

they don’t understand peace n love n understanding

why would they understand me?

what the fuck am I singing about if not your life?

yeah you never met me or you shook my sweaty hand once somewhere

still I sing your life to you

I sing if you but have the ears to hear it

I surround myself with my merry men

the guys in this band man they are the best

Jeffrey fucking Cain our latest member

can you dig how brilliant he is as a songwriter and player?

Ian haug is rocknroll with an Aussie accent

he surfs he rocks he has given this band new vital life

Peter koppes now an undisputed absolute master of music

on every level he is across this shit

he doesn’t merely play a guitar he coaxes beauty forth

Tim on drums solid inventive exciting precise musical innovative

we are ready London and anywhere else

we are inexorably good

we slay every audience we play to

we don’t care if we do or we dont

we are cocky confident and we deliver

and then theres me

an enigma to myself

some lovely god has blessed me with a new beginning

onstage I am charged with an impossible energy

an energy that hurls my voice from my mouth

an energy that fucks me like a female muse

and whispers obscenities to me as i pound that magic bass

its sex its mind its spirit its god its devil its from one thousand lifetimes

I can’t wait to get loose on wherever the fuck we are going

I don’t care

I get on the plane or the train or the bus

I check into the hotels and I check back out

let me at the fucking audiences..!

I don’t wanna see yer stupid palaces or museums or towers or shopping malls

man im here with my four string axe and I want to cut off some new heads

so they understand that now I truly sing the body electric

look at me wracked with spirit as the music makes me writhe

I fucking licked heroin and I licked apathy and I licked ungratefulness

I still lick fucking booze

it can never imprison me but fuck I enjoy a glass of absinthe before I strap on my axe

I licked writing lyrics too and now its all just raining down

its a nice day here in london

gotta do some rehearsal which I hate

bobby smith invited us to his festival

didn’t he?

how can ya say no to that geeza ?

even I think he’s fucking good!

can he play ye olde six string bass..? hell yeah!

for that reason alone I am here

London England

2 more days and they set me free upon that stage

have you ever plucked a fucking bass guitar thats turned up really loud in a big room..?

have ya ever sung into a mic and heard yer voice reverberate round around

carrying your words to every corner and crevice..?

have ya ever stood on stage and felt that sheer racket as it all takes off..?

I have

and I never get sick of it

and I can’t wait to give London a good dose of the Church

(and all the other places but I especially have a feeling about Glasgow!!)

we are a great little combo

hey

thats all I wanted to say

Stevie K in a tiny Fulham hotel room

feeling very very good

 

 

 

delicto

the weather had penetrated my dream some impossible task im a fish in a jungle mescal has blown open the door a female voice : oh I love it when its blurry you and me are six again sister they’re having a party downstairs and they think its funny to drag us out of bed oh see the children perform… me with my stupid poems ha ha ha they all go you with your little dance aww ha ha ha they all go they sent us back to bed but we grew up and we went our own ways I delved  in the darkness of a nightclub into my own enveloping racket oh the vortex was sucking me off baby and nihilism astride my eyes and ears shot I resorted to telepathy a velvet death enveloped me wake up she said its not funny anymore and here was my mother you’re that nice man that singer voice in another room : you wrote that song doctor with accent : look I won’t bullshit you maybe a year a year later I was playing poker 2 one eyed jacks and my colt 47 cocked I got myself in the arm and the game folded I walked outside and it was tonight the rain the sea the fishnchip shops the beach is deserted and the sea is sullen probably none of this even happened darling I’m just imagining something because I’m so stoned and tired all those groaning shells all those swooping gulls all those green n red lights yeah all it all went so blurry oh cook me some more of those biscuits and a cuppa tea im an English king from the olden days sitting on the floor im mad as the maddest lake strangers walk up n shake my […]

Photo on 8-6-18 at 7.47 pm

darkening elliptic

the weather had penetrated my dream

some impossible task

im a fish in a jungle

mescal has blown open the door

a female voice : oh I love it when its blurry

you and me are six again sister

they’re having a party downstairs and they think its funny to drag us out of bed

oh see the children perform…

me with my stupid poems ha ha ha they all go

you with your little dance aww ha ha ha they all go

they sent us back to bed but we grew up and we went our own ways

I delved  in the darkness of a nightclub into my own enveloping racket

oh the vortex was sucking me off baby and nihilism astride

my eyes and ears shot I resorted to telepathy

a velvet death enveloped me

wake up she said its not funny anymore

and here was my mother

you’re that nice man that singer

voice in another room : you wrote that song

doctor with accent : look I won’t bullshit you maybe a year

a year later I was playing poker

2 one eyed jacks and my colt 47 cocked

I got myself in the arm and the game folded

I walked outside and it was tonight

the rain the sea the fishnchip shops

the beach is deserted and the sea is sullen

probably none of this even happened darling

I’m just imagining something because I’m so stoned and tired

all those groaning shells all those swooping gulls all those green n red lights

yeah all it all went so blurry

oh cook me some more of those biscuits and a cuppa tea

im an English king from the olden days sitting on the floor

im mad as the maddest lake

strangers walk up n shake my hand

I can’t remember passwords and the pins

no attachment the blank screen of memory

the pool is a viscous maw

the cafe is a zoo full of primates

the car is a travelling side show

the night is another night is an other night

I type like an imprisoned marquis within a cell

I add jam to the biscuits

the tea is warm and milky

oh boy now its so cosy

its so quiet except for the sound of the rain n distant traffic

somewhere out there terrible things are happening

I keep my head low in soft darkness

every future open ups

the courtyard and the plants

the painting on the easel unfinished

cat asleep under table

music from some time that never came

 

 

 

 

 

colour weal

the dark skinned black eyed night came to me as a woman the seashore was empty the gulls suddenly divided over my head I was drunk and dissolute upon these strange sands she talked in her language of evenings long past the stars escaped from her curling mouth the moon backlit her haloed head like a cemetery angel in the fields a murmuring distant choir as if rain drops evaporated on us with a gentle ssshhh in the astral beyond us the 2 strangers kissed in the opium lips of the night with her tongue of cloud in the dreamiest kiss before you awake in the kiss full of love and full of desire as you’re waking up on a beach under the stars a kiss full of sea foam and the roar of space a kiss as you wake up naked and you just appeared and the smell of the nights neck behind her hair where you belong behind the wind out of the night where you had wanted to be safe where you had wanted to fall asleep where the night wove around you her warmest spell dissolving the ache in your ear and your poor stabbed eyes you stumble up the stairs to sleep where there are no mornings yeah you feel like a fool your guitar still strapped on sliding on the deck of a yacht admiring the Ferrari in the garage you rushed through the tunnel of lives under the glow of some other sun oh the booze was everywhere and every night a feast yeah then you were young again and you laughed on the verandah snorting drugs yeah you wandered down the sea like a fucked up mariner home on leave you looked like the disaster of an admiral now busted down to […]

Photo on 6-6-18 at 8.09 pm #2

gallery of fast lives

the dark skinned black eyed night came to me as a woman

the seashore was empty

the gulls suddenly divided over my head

I was drunk and dissolute upon these strange sands

she talked in her language of evenings long past

the stars escaped from her curling mouth

the moon backlit her haloed head like a cemetery angel

in the fields a murmuring distant choir

as if rain drops evaporated on us with a gentle ssshhh

in the astral beyond us the 2 strangers kissed

in the opium lips of the night with her tongue of cloud

in the dreamiest kiss before you awake

in the kiss full of love and full of desire

as you’re waking up on a beach under the stars

a kiss full of sea foam and the roar of space

a kiss as you wake up naked and you just appeared

and the smell of the nights neck behind her hair where you belong

behind the wind out of the night where you had wanted to be safe

where you had wanted to fall asleep

where the night wove around you her warmest spell

dissolving the ache in your ear and your poor stabbed eyes

you stumble up the stairs to sleep

where there are no mornings

yeah you feel like a fool your guitar still strapped on

sliding on the deck of a yacht

admiring the Ferrari in the garage

you rushed through the tunnel of lives

under the glow of some other sun

oh the booze was everywhere

and every night a feast

yeah then you were young again and you laughed on the verandah snorting drugs

yeah you wandered down the sea like a fucked up mariner home on leave

you looked like the disaster of an admiral now busted down to an anchor man

all the motels all the aeroplanes all the dinners in restaurants

all the fish in the ocean

all the thoughts in a single brimming brain

music rushing through the sound of the surf

one morning ya wake up in hospital

one morning ya wake up with a pretty girl

one morning ya wake up in a coffin and youre fucking freezing

one morning ya wake up in Stockholm and its snowing

one morning ya wake up in Belgrade and you’re lost

one morning ya wake up washed up at Bronte so you buy a bag of hot chips

one morning ya wake up and its raining but the night stayed over anyway

and every raindrop enters the earth at free fall speed

and every earth revolves around every sun in an expression of devotion

and theres a cup of tea and she hands ya yer phone

and someone somewhere else is ringing ya about some fucking show you gonna do

and ya can’t remember your name and you don’t even want to

and yer mask has cracked good and open and you can’t be bothered watching

sleep is a delicious certainty and you roll the dice with expertise

you don’t have to know anything or do anything

no more practice no more struggle no more thrashing

no more smashing up the detritus the idiot has left behind

the green sea the dark night the silver rain

I remain behind an I will pay my bill

 

 

 

lime falls on limey in the limelight

you have no fucking idea my genius is a bastard trapped inside my skull ricocheting endless in the infinite halls of my pierless mind i dont forget i dont forgive i dont, for anybody in heaven i am the most infernal angel allowed in in hell i am the nicest devil my throne is a sand dune my sceptre is a reed latina women wonder at my nose and my jaw im under the stars in garden with my unfaithful blonde guitar singing up distant storms my descent into the deeper notes accompanied by a sad vibrato a few of the women in the orchestra gaze at me slightly intrigued as i trotted out a few characters so i gaze back meaningfully i think to them thanks you understand my songs the girl on the bassoon gazes at me insolently tho and i like that the best i frown at her and for a second she grins my jungled evening implodes uselessly yes im back in the past present the mindless stupidity of the things you come up with now following you forever someone commissioned me to paint a picture of this guy called johnny danger from carolina years later i meet his widow on a mulberry night deep in the countryside at this gig after 2 minutes im falling for her like a fool that i am we go somewhere people were doing drugs and we kissed next to a swimming pool the sound of a distant party the dream of a good time her so confidant and poised like a patrician roman noblewoman when i got home my genie had gotten out of its bottle and meddled with some bad ju ju and my wishes for beautiful things turned into the sordidly unbearable my wishes for the sublime […]

Photo on 13-02-2018 at 9.18 PM #2
Photo on 13-02-2018 at 9.18 PM #2
Photo on 13-02-2018 at 9.18 PM #2

you have no fucking idea

my genius is a bastard trapped inside my skull

ricocheting endless in the infinite halls of my pierless mind

i dont forget i dont forgive i dont, for anybody

in heaven i am the most infernal angel allowed in

in hell i am the nicest devil

my throne is a sand dune

my sceptre is a reed

latina women wonder at my nose and my jaw

im under the stars in garden with my unfaithful blonde guitar

singing up distant storms

my descent into the deeper notes accompanied by a sad vibrato

a few of the women in the orchestra gaze at me slightly intrigued

as i trotted out a few characters

so i gaze back meaningfully

i think to them

thanks you understand my songs

the girl on the bassoon gazes at me insolently tho

and i like that the best

i frown at her and for a second she grins

my jungled evening implodes uselessly

yes im back in the past present

the mindless stupidity of the things you come up with now following you forever

someone commissioned me to paint a picture of this guy called johnny danger from carolina

years later i meet his widow on a mulberry night deep in the countryside at this gig

after 2 minutes im falling for her like a fool that i am

we go somewhere people were doing drugs and we kissed next to a swimming pool

the sound of a distant party the dream of a good time

her so confidant and poised like a patrician roman noblewoman

when i got home my genie had gotten out of its bottle

and meddled with some bad ju ju

and my wishes for beautiful things turned into the

sordidly unbearable

my wishes for the sublime embrace of the lover

turned into a rain of toads

my wish for a new morning materialising as a pack of brutes

all of them obvious and mindless

criminal animal weather

my wish for an easy reverie had been shredded and horrified all who could see it

when i was dropped off at the train station

i was still listening to the music

music as if cavemen had come across beautiful instruments and defiled them

music that was like the insane roar of one million tedious idiots

with my head in my hands i arrived at a hospital to see a quack

n eat the cafeterias chips

 

 

 

 

 

second prize in a beauty contest

this aint the northern hemisphere and here summer rules in royal blue and bursting green the surfers surf the dealers deal the users use the bills hit your  letterbox damp from the torrentials my back courtyard is an alluvial plain peopled by bugs and ants and spiders and snails and slugs the plants go on growing the cactus out from thorns spring delicate unanticipated flowers i smoke my weed i swim my laps i meet my friends i struggle with my money i get behind on everything i get confused by everything my mother has finally succumbed to forgetfulness and is going out now on a wave of mixed up memories the cafes are full a new one seems to spring up each day and there are the cashed up geezas and their bints sipping their java and munching on the smashed avocado on spelt bread that night they will drink boutique beers and snort some heavy cut coke through a rolled up ubiquitous fifty dollar bill they will watch net flix and order a svens pizza they will go to a bar where they have to shout over the music i have forgotten how i arrived in this place here in this peaceful warm bedroom where i sit and type and type there was music there was drugs there was violence there were crowds there were cops there was sex there was  a limo and an ambulance you were rich poor in the middle totally bankrupt its always summer you pickup your girlfriend in your datsun 120b you could get your bass amp cabinets in there dad always puts too much chlorine in the pool and your eyes are always red your nose is crimson with sunburn russell and johns hair has been bleached white by the summer and […]

IMG_2463

side on

this aint the northern hemisphere

and here summer rules in royal blue and bursting green

the surfers surf

the dealers deal

the users use

the bills hit your  letterbox

damp from the torrentials

my back courtyard is an alluvial plain peopled by bugs and ants and spiders and snails and slugs

the plants go on growing

the cactus out from thorns spring delicate unanticipated flowers

i smoke my weed i swim my laps i meet my friends

i struggle with my money

i get behind on everything

i get confused by everything

my mother has finally succumbed to forgetfulness and is going out now

on a wave of mixed up memories

the cafes are full

a new one seems to spring up each day

and there are the cashed up geezas and their bints

sipping their java and munching on the smashed avocado on spelt bread

that night they will drink boutique beers and snort some heavy cut coke

through a rolled up ubiquitous fifty dollar bill

they will watch net flix and order a svens pizza

they will go to a bar where they have to shout over the music

i have forgotten how i arrived in this place

here in this peaceful warm bedroom where i sit and type and type

there was music there was drugs there was violence

there were crowds there were cops there was sex

there was  a limo and an ambulance

you were rich poor in the middle totally bankrupt

its always summer

you pickup your girlfriend in your datsun 120b

you could get your bass amp cabinets in there

dad always puts too much chlorine in the pool and your eyes are always red

your nose is crimson with sunburn

russell and johns hair has been bleached white by the summer and the chlorine

you go to a record shop where you can stand in a booth while they play you records

you dressed in thongs you dressed in levis cords you got a western shirt

you drive down the coast to cabins and caravan park

you have poached eggs on toast  and chips for dinner

there was a full dress rehearsal

there was a police interview

there was a morning in darkness

and an evening in light

there was a time nobody knew you

and a time everybody was reading your name

you were parked in a lane off wellington st

someone had gone in a flat with your money to get you something

they were taking such a long long time

you were pushing the twins up a steep hill on a hot day

you were listening to caroline says

lou reed was softly crooning

when she takes speed they laugh and ask her

what is in your mind?

what is in your mind?

she put her fist thru the window pane

it was such a…funny feeling…

there was a 10 dollar cd shop and you lashed out on strange music you didnt understand

you shopped at the IGA and the local corner store where maurice worked

you had a wife and a bunch of kids and a station wagon car

you read the kids to sleep at night

and you and your wife were happy

there was a cheque there was another bill there was a demand for payment

there was booze and there was cordial and there were frozen soy ice creams

there was mercyndol tablets and doof doof music coming from below

i walked the kids to school and then i had a swim

i got in a plane and i flew to america

i got in a car and i drove to a show

there was a standing ovation

there was a complaint

there was a bonus and there was a deduction

there was nice room there was a hovel

there was lsd and there was passion pop

i lost most of my hearing and vision in one eye

my hair was thin

my teeth fell out

my skin now old

i paint a thousand paintings suddenly out of nowhere

i write a thousand songs

i eat a thousand meals

i go to doctors dentists and solicitors offices

i go to banks and bus sheds and terminal A

i go for walks and acupuncture and i do yoga to indian music on my balcony

my eldest daughters go to school they get jobs they become singers and models

my other daughters go to school they leave school they have boyfriends

my cars get booked they rust they fall apart they get taken away for scrap

i am in the details

there was a nasty argument

a hand went thru the pain

there was blood on a towel

there was not a person waiting around for you

the summer burns on into night

you buy lollies and eat em as you plod on up yer street

the shots have blurred

the snaps are stale

the words are mechanical

the chances of winning almost nil

the surveillance camera twitches in its nest

your numberplate makes you easy to find

the keys jam in the locks

the screws turn within the bolt

they lock you out and out and out and out

the line goes taut

the line goes dead

someone on the other end just an electronic bark

the reception is patchy

the freezer has thawed

people can hear you shouting down the street

when cars slow down looking for a park

and the sea at the end of the street like a dark green undulating field

and someone explains some new dismal thing which has just happened

and the weather forecast says no rain as you stand there getting drenched

back at home past present future split

the 3 ways forward and the 3 ways backwards

the trap the snare the jaw the imprisonment

the feint the blow the weave the woof

the girls who wrote to you said theyd do anything for ya

the men wrote to you told you where to go

in the the grinding miasma of my twisted dreams where I’m skewered side on

in the temporary hold on my credit

in the grease left on the brown paper by the cake

in the stuff that wouldnt wash off the plates

in the indentation of where you lay against the sky

in the febrile thoughts in hypnogogic states

in all the nameless nights that lead up to lent

and the characters you cant type out with your alphabet

and the dumb ideas your stumble upon with your thumb

the dalliances with some countess of the scene burned numb and snow blind

and the saint who helped jesus score

and the cat who shot up achilles

and the guy under the fluro who looks like a spook

and the sad ladies who sit there with empty eyes from crying

and the angry guys who have believed all of the lies

and the disappointed children trying to make everything all better

the bats chattered hidden in the trees

australia loomed out of every ion

there was a faint sweet song on the breeze

i sit at the keyboard i type type type

my brain fires off in sequences

all its knowledge spat out at random

my dad had a lovely woody smell

the column shift on my mazda was clunky

i met a girl at dickson pool and kissed her as it began to rain

i ran around a tennis court at night

i tripped on mescaline and remembered all those other lives

and i pierced the thin veneer of civilisation

and i lived a hundred years in a few hours

and it was 10 01 pm

sleep was taking me down

my thoughts become cloudy and condense

the memory of brilliant nights

the agony of separation

the used car place lit up at night all empty

the motel with sea-views and pool. AC .colour tv

the grey fences rotting away

the smell of seaweed upon the beach

and the seabirds that pick thru it

ocean city or malibu or brighton or bondi

its summer and its dressed in a black cloak with stars

and its limitless horizons stretch out to the shores of her heaven

its romantic down the back of the club with that tiny sweetie

oh steve she said

i just want you to see what you are doing

in the dull glare of a fake candlelight i know i had one too many

1 2 many

in the chatter and buzz of the stupid nightclub

where im sweating like a horse

my face is quite red and my pupils are huge

my white shirt looks good with my tan

i pretend to be skinnier then

i order a platter of fruit and more champagne altho by now in underground carpark

ive lost my ticket and the waiters have all gone to bed

round at your place someone in the shower says

i’ll be out in a minute darling forever

and then when you go in theres no one even there

youre tired now as fuck as your old eyes dim over with mist

you lay down in the forgiving darkness

afraid of the dreams that are brewing in your once brilliant mind

you burnt out your clutch with too many revs

you slipped down the charts and there was nothing you could do

people ignored what you did it didnt matter anymore

at night when you lay down you rush out of your head

you fly round the city and you see all the people

its lovely to fly i feel young i feel free

i hang motionless over my own place

and i watch you writhe in your sleep

you shout out for justice and snatches of conversations

you grumble about bastards doing better than you

you crumble before dawn when you wake up aching

in the blue lake of the light fighting off Insomnia

walking down by waves as the sea raves inside your shell

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

bank error in your favour

in the darkness before i was born in the oblivion that spawned me whole again and again to sing to steal to hammer my bass where the vortex sucked and the whirlpool engulfing before i was me before i was you before i was all of them in a moment of capture in the high resolution of the first rays of knowledge as the magic attacked my bones and i lost my mind and i lost my mind at a servo and i was swimming in the blackest sea and stuff was grabbing at my legs and women were slapping me around on the end of my leash and the eternal eludes us of necessity and the impermanence of absolutely everything you can name it was lovely to sink into it all they were singing lovely music in my ears as i sank fathoms it was my dream it was my life it was all made up and yes i was earnestly hemming away the evening of silk and i was moving away from the light of the day and i was fixed on a star and set over the city gates and the people at my shows shook all their heads anxiety was riding high on a roll the lightning jabbed the horizon the thunder fell down on coogee beach where the shadows are suntanned and within the whispers you can hear the sea the summer had us by the scalp and the hairdresser did the blonde streaks with a sneer and the magazines were so way out of date and the cigarette smoke curled like a beggar around a coin the screeching tyres and seagulls on arden street its a fish n chips kind of night i glide on the wheels of imagination through the surging crowds who […]

Photo on 3-01-2018 at 7.52 PM

des pear

in the darkness before i was born

in the oblivion that spawned me whole

again and again

to sing to steal to hammer my bass

where the vortex sucked

and the whirlpool engulfing

before i was me

before i was you

before i was all of them

in a moment of capture

in the high resolution of the first rays of knowledge

as the magic attacked my bones and i lost my mind

and i lost my mind at a servo

and i was swimming in the blackest sea

and stuff was grabbing at my legs

and women were slapping me around on the end of my leash

and the eternal eludes us of necessity

and the impermanence of absolutely everything you can name

it was lovely to sink into it all

they were singing lovely music in my ears as i sank fathoms

it was my dream it was my life it was all made up

and yes i was earnestly hemming away the evening of silk

and i was moving away from the light of the day

and i was fixed on a star and set over the city gates

and the people at my shows shook all their heads

anxiety was riding high on a roll

the lightning jabbed the horizon

the thunder fell down on coogee beach

where the shadows are suntanned

and within the whispers you can hear the sea

the summer had us by the scalp

and the hairdresser did the blonde streaks with a sneer

and the magazines were so way out of date

and the cigarette smoke curled like a beggar around a coin

the screeching tyres and seagulls on arden street

its a fish n chips kind of night

i glide on the wheels of imagination

through the surging crowds who have come to guffaw at the cafes

and their little dogs who startle and yap

and some powerful ferrari throttled round the car park

and the gardens with fresh laid sods withering underfoot

and i wandered to your door where you stood with a candle

and your door was blue like my eyes

and the paint was white like my beard

and your skin was browner than my skin

and your soft tread and we walked down your hall

and your room smelt of the rain and the storm

and it was 100 degrees that night

when suddenly the rain came down again

whipped across the sea by some infernal monsoon

we smoked your drugs and i played your guitar

i wrote 3 songs on the spot and forgot em all

and i sat in the banana chair on your balcony being splashed ever so gently

you were on the phone to your mother

yes yes it was christmas eve

i remember the way you touched my face

and said ‘one day this will all be gone’

it was only a film they were making advertising the new melancholia

we were actors being paid to pretend to be here

we never met

they added us on much later and separate

i was the audience and i applauded myself

the lights came on i was here in my bedroom

in the light of my computer my freckly skin shudders

im writing a story to amuse some anonymous reader

my clothes are a mountain strewn on the floor

i have codeine and sleeping pills on the black table

perfect stranger asleep in bed

a garish shaker bought for 3 dollars

headphones and receipts and the relics of another life

getting slower and slower with the weight of the years

getting dreamier and dreamier as i wade towards the end

as the sea pool closes its doors for another day

and somebody likes a photo i posted

and somebody listens in to all our thoughts

and somebody else doesnt know or care about anything we do or say

and somebody else is obsessively hunting us all down

and the voice in another room is silent

and the piano by the shore is saying something more

the huge sweep of the vaulted night marbled by clouds

i walked in the lamplight by the sea

searching for Echo who taunted me

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

my big fat doco

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..? […]

Photo on 28-08-2017 at 10.04 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

 

 

 

 

man woman life death infinity * the church

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   submarine 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   undersea 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 […]

Photo on 23-08-2017 at 8.01 PM #2

THC IKR

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

 

submarine

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

 

undersea

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!

 

 

 

 

 

 

oh honey

you all know everything here is true 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 why 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 […]

Photo on 21-08-2017 at 9.12 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

why

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

everything…

the smoke was soothing and soft

it filled your lungs

then it filled your heart

then it filled your head

oh honey i said

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

fate heeler

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 […]

Photo on 20-08-2017 at 8.55 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