posted on January 6, 2006 at 10:44 pm

saturday morning
wake up early
my mothers study
where i am sleeping
everyone still asleep
i meditate
no contact
everyone still asleep
wander thru village
back down to lake
baby magpie screaming at its mother
on the lawn
she ignores it
goes on sucking big fat worms outta the ground
eventually the baby gets the picture
finds its own worm
message in my head
this is a metaphor for you, sk

i discover path around lake
sing a song to vishnu
but he’s not answering
i walk across little bridge
flies struggling in web
im hoping to meet someone
a magician…
a hermit
someone extraordinary
if only someone would walk down this path…
perhaps my father is waiting up ahead
in the tangle and swamp
in the marshy wetlands
he’s waiting for me
some sage advice
smelling of old spice
and benson and hedges
w/ his rhyming slang
and cockney thang
the sun breaks thru the clouds
burns all traces of ghosts away
occaisional jogger
or dog walker
i look very approachable
but no one stops to talk
no witch invites me in
to her mud and sticks hut
to learn the healing lore
to hear her twisted tales
to speak
to her familiar
keep on walking
pleasant feeling of loneliness
wish i had someone
to share this solitude
all my daughters asleep somewhere
all my friends
out there
leading their lives
i am here
in the woods

the last time i spoke w/ my dad
30 years ago
thats a long time between conversations
my olde manne
i feel like youre so near
i feel like youre waiting for me
i feel like we ARE
gonna meet again
i remember when you held my hand
when they stitched up my eye
you were dressed in a suit
and i thought you looked so smart

driving us thru a bushfire in 1961
i felt so safe cos you were there
lying on the back seat watching
those fucking flaming trees
fall down
i realise now
you didnt have a clue either
you were probably scared too
but you made us feel safe

i remember my first bass
we went to queanbeyan
i was nearly 16
the guy said
no ones playing the bass these days
its all rhythm guitar now…
i knew i had to remember that line
still makes me laugh

you rigged me up an amplifier
you made from an olde school p.a. system
then you had to listen
while i played 25 or 6 to 4
and over
and over

you let my bands practice
in the garage satday arvos
despite serious complaints
from surly neighbours
“you should come and stand in my toilet
and hear this racket”
said mrs mc carthy
no thanks
said my dad
and the whole band fuckin’ had a good laugh

i remember me first gig
i was so nervous
i kept me head down
i made a million mistakes
all the time a voice in my head saying
this is it
this is it
yer playing music
you great idiot
its finally happened
bullies from school
came to watch me play
i remained unpunched
hey this music thing is really workin out for me here
then i got kicked out of my band
they wanted to go more “caberet”
fuck em
they really were clowns
but jesus
getting kicked out of anything hurts
suddenly nothing to do at night
hang around the house
listening to t rex
and over
and over
my mother worries
that my bolan worship
could mean that her son
is batting for the other side
ha !
i was his fucking apprentice
i was absorbing all his tricks
i was turning his words over in my mouth
pretending they were mine
i was quotin’ him to gurlss
some were impressed
some said
“what are ya, kilbey?”
i was half in one world
canberra 1970, public servants, pubs, footy
and half in another
fauns, babes, rock, love, music
id trawl thru record shops for hours
even when i had no money
looking at the l.p. covers
trying to catch the eye of someone
sitting on an empty bus
back from kingston
where i’d just found
“a beard of stars”
now i was 2 thirds in bolans world
most the kids at school
didnt like it
hell they didnt like me either
i realised its good to be a minority
i zipped up my world
and i walked away
formed more bands
wrote songs like
mascara o hara
jet fin rock
zsa zsas place
igloo blues
“i got the igloo blues
cos they aint no room
for my harpoon”
we were glam
we were glitter
we were awful
i wore a blouse backwards
and enuff make up
to make a panda laugh
we hung around music shops
i was already trying to be iconoclastic
i made a 27 year olde guy actually cry
when i told ‘im he was already washed up
i was a pest
i was a big mouthed long haired skinny assed
glam rocker and i wanted some action
one day met p k
when we was double booked at church/rehearsal room
he had longer hair than me
he was 5 inches taller than me
one year younger than me
he could actually really play
the guitar
the drums
we formed uneasy alliance that day
which still holds even now
i still admire his wonderful playing
he still cant believe that i still dont
really have a clue
i ve known that guy over thirty fucking years people

hot summers
cold winters
artificial city
in middle of nowhere
lovely now
but brutal then
between 13 and 17
i probably got fuckin punched
almost every day at school
character buildin’ baby
“mum, i don’ wanna go to school, today…”
why not, son
“um err oooh, well, i feele kinda sick…”
youre going anyway, steven
(but mum, theyre gonna fucking punch my brains in
down there today
i cant take it
im a lover
not a fighter)
sorry son

i wonder what all my old bullies are doing today?
i wonder if they ever heard my records…?
hey alright unguarded moment…
i dislocated his shoulder….
hey alright…!

they kept me going thru the badde times
“i cant stop reheasing
cos i got to show
those bullies….!”

all gone
all in the past
the things that shaped me

now im an international blogging starr
it all seems silly
sitting here
on the pile o cash
ive made from blogging
here in malibu
and aspen
and monte carlo
and belgravia
and first olde rocker in space
as i orbit fuckin pluto
and as i enter the annals
of legend
where was i?
what was i saying?
thanks for your comments
you bring a tear to this olde rockers
cynical grey eye
i cant understand spanish
i wish i could
but i cant understand a thing
youre so lovely
i get the gist
thanks to all my regulars
i feel we got something going here
all of you
youre so spesh to me
you are
im gettin’ all sentimentle
thats all
i love you

41 Responses to “in a dark wood, wondering”

  1. avatar
    Anonymous | 7 January 2006 at 12:19 am #

    Thanks for sharing all of this with us – I look forward to reading your blogs very much!!

  2. avatar
    Mike A | 7 January 2006 at 12:27 am #

    Your blogs keep getting better and better – thanks for taking the time to share this with us!!

  3. avatar
    sometimeanywhere in Tucson, AZ | 7 January 2006 at 12:46 am #

    steve, very nice to read this one!
    can’t wait to meet you again in san juan capistrano this spring!

  4. avatar
    Anonymous | 7 January 2006 at 1:13 am #

    Your blog entries are the highlight of my day.

    Pathetic? Sad? Wonderful?

    Yes. Wonderful.

  5. avatar
    paula | 7 January 2006 at 1:19 am #

    so sad,so happy,so melon koli.the final anihilation needs to come!break appart and reform into non linear being/not being.what if i said to u that war was the ultimate form of yoga.youd prbli say get off my blogi.but thought of in all onesty it is the most extreme form of the quest for openness is your yoga .your driving the happy yoga bus.tell the magpies,they re such sweet to you dear fellow frequent fryer!

  6. avatar
    esskayer | 7 January 2006 at 1:47 am #

    Ye Olde Steve: Now THIS is the SK I knew was lurking around somewhere. I love the other guy too (who makes fun of backpackahs and cracks us up with sublime observations), but this is the side of you I wanna read more of. Stuff about your dad brought a tear to my eye; and about being bullied in school–I WAS THERE, man! Nobody liked me either, and used to get beat up regularly. (But we both know they were just jealous and felt woefully inadequate. The bullies should be pitied, not hated). I’ve still got issues with it (being bullied), even today. Hard not to feel bitter sometimes, “if I could just go back knowing what I know now”, etc. Somehow I’ve always felt a strong affinity with you Steve, like we were two peas out of the same pod. Don’t confuse this with being a fan (which I am), no it’s something more than that. You “get it.” You get ME!This blog entry was like looking in a mirror, like reading a prayer from my own (conscious and subconscious) memories. One day I hope we will meet. If not in this life, then without a shadow of a doubt in the next one. Blog on, sweet brother.

  7. avatar
    Anonymous | 7 January 2006 at 2:29 am #

    FINALLY a blog that was blog worthy from Steve Kilbey…finally…feck, it’s been a long time coming

  8. avatar
    Anonymous | 7 January 2006 at 3:24 am #

    Mmmmmmmmmm how I would have loved to have walked that path with you listening to that dreamy voice and those words……..

    Thanks for sharing your memories of your dad. You too have absorbed his great paternal traits.

    Love your blog

  9. avatar
    Tony Pucci | 7 January 2006 at 3:30 am #

    I really enjoyed this one, Steve. Thank you.

    Your blog has had the interesting side effect of my imagining legions of kilbey blogheads attending Church shows in black t-shirts with “YE OLDE SK” printing in big, thick, white, olde world (germanic) font, sort of half-jaigermeister commercial apparel/half kiss army. You could market your own brew! We’ve all been sucking it in ethereally for years anyway…

  10. avatar
    Anonymous | 7 January 2006 at 4:10 am #

    I love the way you write!
    My cat’s wondering why I’m sitting
    at the PC crying…

    Love, Peace and Joy!

  11. avatar
    Rob S. | 7 January 2006 at 7:33 am #

    I’ve really enjoyed the whole blog thing since you started, but this one really hit home…I lost my father recently and reading your memories seemed to open mine again. Since he passed I can only seem to remember him in that hospital bed, wasting away, memory fading, not knowing where he was or why he was there, but probably knowing it was near the end. The cries of pain…
    But after reading the memories of your dad, it was like opening a door just as the sun rises…the memories flooding my mind as the light would flood the room…I am really not one that is affected much by the written word but this just really is amazing…thank you!


  12. avatar
    esskayer | 7 January 2006 at 8:05 am #

    Emerald Honda in Overdrive (my parents’ car)
    Nightmare descent into Oakland, California (murder capital of the world, at the tyme)
    Drumkit moon hovers in sky.
    The year was 1986, I’m 18.
    My fave band at the time, ECHO and the Bunnymen, playing a gig at the Henry J. Kaiser Convention Center
    Support groop: The Church
    Hmmm, never heard of ’em
    I walk into the concert hall, feeling awkward, alone. It’s just me here tonight. A sea of black clothes and bleached spiky hair can be seen for miles in here. I did wear a black sweater and put some mousse in my hair to try and fit in…but I still feel out of place (as usual).
    Lights go down and The Church hits the stage.
    I think the opening song is “Myrrh”. Man, these guys are really good. And they just keep getting better. I notice the bass player goes almost into a trance during “Tantalized,” trippy lights swirl around the auditorium as the song throbs into an ecstatic swirl of sound. Singer introduces final song as “an old Church number.” It’s “Is This Where You Live” (as I found out, it wasn’t THAT old!) Can’t wait to go back to school next day and tell my friend Teresa (another outsider like me into The Chameleons, The Smiths, and soon to be The Church) about this band.
    Echo and the Bunnymen finally hit the stage. Too much dry ice, man. Can’t even see ’em. They seem bored. No passion. They play their songs production-line style. Mac says two words to the crowd (think all he said was “thank you”) Totally let down, the bubble burst. My spiky moussed hair had wilted. Was it possible that a previously unknown group of Australian rockahs could blow my heroes off the stage?? Yes, it was true. Thus began an obsession which has been going strong for 20 years now. I will cherish the memories and never forget that night.

  13. avatar
    Andreas -Italy | 7 January 2006 at 10:47 am #

    You’re a giant…
    I have the feeling that somewhere within me, all the memories of my own past, and the way things shaped me, are there, but I just cant recall them as vividly as you can… we just live projected towards the future, always with some senseless aim to achieve, and then boom it’s all gone… and we keep forgetting… since I started reading your blog, I also started to live for the present. That’s the big thing you gave me, and I thank you from the deep of my heart for that.

  14. avatar
    Anonymous | 7 January 2006 at 11:31 am #

    SK you’re absolutely lovely. You are someone extraordinary. No wonder your loneliness is pleasant. ๐Ÿ™‚

  15. avatar
    timetunnel | 7 January 2006 at 12:44 pm #

    Steve, many thanks for these very intimate thoughts. They just catapulted me back to my own school time and people I lost, and to the moods and feelings belonging to that. There’s always a special mood conneted with wandering alone and letting your thoughts just go where they want. Just like a Church song, which can be quite melancholic but very relaxing and happy at the same time.

    Ewige Blumenkraft

  16. avatar
    captainmission | 7 January 2006 at 2:38 pm #

    can’t believe i am sitting here wondering what to write with a tear in me eye, thinking, far out man, your words are kind of beautiful tonight, it’s been a long journey, i watched you on old annie nightingale’s whistle test 25 years ago, i had to phone her up to ask to play it again and i saw you at Town and Country club and various venues around the western world and now i live across the bridge from you, and i read your words and they still profoundly move me, and i go see the band and they still have the power to trancend, and here I am, reading yr blog with a tear in my eye as some memories of me own float up to the surface, my dad, T-Rex, Marc and Bowie on tv together falling down, Marc introducing Hawkwind to teenieboppers all over London as they did ‘Spirit of the Age’ with RC and his stuffed Hawk on his shoulder, the funeral at Golders Green a short time after and my own horror of school bullies, teachers and english comprehensive school.
    And I think it’s kind of funny, you walked along hoping to meet some one extrodinary, yet you’re that magickian, the mystic, vishnu, the witch, the wise man, the fool, the lion and the wardrobe.
    Tis a beautiful blog and I love your art, spirit and sense of humour to, and I better get outta here before ya pull the plug.

  17. avatar
    Gavgams | 7 January 2006 at 3:01 pm #

    Your bass lines are cool, Steve. Really herbal.
    I know what you’re talking about, and felt… and so do so many others – witness the comments. Those experiences are there in the songs. Beautiful melodies transfiguring… eg Authority, Paradox, Roman… so many etc-er’s.
    Sart distinguishes between living a life in good faith and bad faith. I think the straights (or “spines” as we used to call them) are in the latter cartography of souls.
    No t-shirts please. Just general opulence. Paisley is a password these days.
    David Sylvian’s alleged instrumental incompetence makes for an interesting by the by.
    How about a blog entry on the “Guitar Shop” scene with all the wankers spanking the plank?

  18. avatar
    Anonymous | 7 January 2006 at 4:00 pm #

    it is to be a privilege
    to read your blog
    thank you for sharing

  19. avatar
    Handyman | 7 January 2006 at 4:32 pm #

    Thanks for this trip and illustrating such wonderful places in time. It’s great to read this. I love where your going….

    A novel is next, I’m telling you!


  20. avatar
    Martin | 7 January 2006 at 8:20 pm #

    Aw Steve,

    I’ve been reading these on and off since you started the blog, but these last two have me near tears. You’re no cynic.
    I’m feeling that adoration again, like Heyday, like Unearthed, like Warm Spell when I pictured you all crowded in a Sydney bedroom. You’re rare and precious and thank you so much.

  21. avatar
    Ian | 7 January 2006 at 8:36 pm #

    Beautiful Midnight,
    Your silence speaks louder than words…
    Thank you..


  22. avatar
    Anonymous | 7 January 2006 at 9:34 pm #

    It’s just because you’re an ‘aging rocker’ — you can wander through your memories as well as make us feel you might delete our comments — that this is working so well.

  23. avatar
    eek | 7 January 2006 at 10:26 pm #

    My sister asked me “Why did you get into this band?” I was kind of stumped for an answer…if she couldn’t figure it out from hearing the songs, what more could words say?

    This gorgeous entry — well the entire blog really, rants and all — so completely answers the question. It’s you, but so much of it could be me. It could be me remembering my parents, my school days (and I thought I was the only one who tried the “I’m sick” trick — oh how I hated facing the mean kids at school), the isolation, loneliness, quest for meaning, peace, and even the ranting (ok, I actually do a lot of ranting).

    Unfortunately, I still don’t think she would understand.

    But it means a lot to me. So thank you.

  24. avatar
    matt davison | 7 January 2006 at 10:53 pm #

    The Real sk stood up!
    he showed the world the true man
    behind the lyrics, behind the bass
    behind the art
    behind the poet
    behind the beard
    A loving son
    A loving father
    a man of peace
    a friend to us all
    nothing that special
    just one of us…
    SK you are special, but no more than the earth we all walk on, but your light is an aurora…
    big.. spacial, cosmic..
    Its a vast an tiny universe SK
    The Choich where the marriage of earth and the man come together
    the minister that is steve.

  25. avatar
    Ed | 7 January 2006 at 11:39 pm #

    You are

    Thank you

    for what you have given



    Back with Two Beasts……

    pandemically infusing.

  26. avatar
    Pale Rider | 8 January 2006 at 2:58 am #


    That post was really good. I hope you stick with the blogging thing and keep putting things out that are original and thoughtful. As difficult as it is to go back thirty years or so, it’s a very worthwhile piece to read.

  27. avatar
    Jnfr | 8 January 2006 at 3:52 am #

    This blog of yours, such a wonderful vessel, for you as well as us.

    Imagine what it’s like for us, who’ve been seduced by your words and music over these years, to be able to tell you directly – thank you and how much we love what you’ve given us? It’s one form of thank-you to put a bit of static electricity to the visa card, but quite another to say it directly to the person responsible for many of our inspiring (and any other -ing you can imagine) moments, feelings, deeds – thank you. It often feels like an honour to me…


  28. avatar
    Anonymous | 8 January 2006 at 3:55 am #

    That is so beautiful.

    On this warmhotdry arvo im off to taste more words and music and drink melodies and share that space with other people….

    as i always have, since those early church happenings…..

    Love & Peace

  29. avatar
    oldchurchfan | 8 January 2006 at 7:13 am #

    I loved it ess kay. I loved your affinity with what you do, with PK. I’m glad he’s back and I’m glad your’re still around. You’ve always struck a note with me, then and NOW. I loved the sentimentality. It is worthy to be sentimental at times. It made me sad but it struck a note as it would with others, I’m sure. Keep it going.

    The sad part is some may never understand but they all should.


  30. avatar
    D Gray13 | 8 January 2006 at 7:33 am #

    testing 123 blog

  31. avatar
    DGray13 | 8 January 2006 at 8:05 am #

    Sorry there’s a frog in my blog

  32. avatar
    Sweed | 8 January 2006 at 12:57 pm #

    Dear SK! That part about your father actually made me cry and Iยดm happy for that…

  33. avatar
    maggie | 8 January 2006 at 9:19 pm #

    Has this got something to do with worms?
    squawk, squaawwkkk

  34. avatar
    Anonymous | 9 January 2006 at 3:18 am #

    Parental advisory: explicit content. Drives the whole bunch at the office to supercolored tears before MEANING. So the woman in white suit concealing
    flowers tell their grotesque boss: “I found meaning while looking for MEMORY
    Inc.”. But this is not allowed. She moves somewhere in the wood where actress n woodn’t. There is the place where a coiling serpent can be placed. There is the story that never failed (to dream). Getting sentimentall makes you even bigger wear my eyes fear to thrive. Then there is no fear. The blessing of a father who makes you feel safe, the blessing of a mother who makes you feel lucky and our chests are light again. This is a feeling that can’t be repeated,
    reproduced, synthesized or even compressed in the most
    synestesic song from a synic sy-fi syren. It is gone forever and… I know what you’re saying, nowhere man, everywhere fruit.

  35. avatar
    CeciliaGin | 9 January 2006 at 3:45 pm #

    Te lo explico cuando nos veamos en San Francisco!

  36. avatar
    delfin | 9 January 2006 at 10:45 pm #

    For all the little laddies and lassies
    With the hide to persevere
    To haul tired bodies over mud
    Wet carcassies through rain
    Thirsty hulks a draggin’
    Cross a waterless plain
    Who thought it must be one long typo
    A distortion of the facts
    A riddle without answer
    In Nine Stanzas and Seven Acts
    For those who, lost, returned again
    (as if sniffing around the car park where their school once stood)
    For those who weren’t put off
    Put out, pissed off, enraged..
    Whose dogged recollections glowed
    and hung over the scribbled page

    A little flow of water
    A little summer kiss
    Something from an imaginary friend
    I never knew
    But knew I missed


    This is worth it.

  37. avatar
    Anonymous | 9 January 2006 at 11:57 pm #

    Uncanny that you are able to put into words what so many young blokes go through.
    I am dutch , grew up in a harsh environment in NZ, met a pommie bloke at school who was getting the shit kicked out of him – I helped him – we formed a band doing songs by Mudd & Slade, we gigged, broke up – I didnt talk with my friend for a while, went to Sydney for something different – saw this band at Gaslight or some fucking thing down in Kent St calld the Church – rang my mate in NZ to have a rave – wer’e still friends now which is nice , both play music but not together, both our dads passed away last year , his was 81 & his name was Jock , mine was 64 & his name was Kees.
    I guess your band was like a Bolantime for me & wre’e both still fans today & the best thing about this bloggin thing to me is that it gives hope to a generally shallow world these days that modern inventions can always be used for something real if you try hard enuff.

    Dutch Pierre

  38. avatar
    Damien | 10 January 2006 at 10:58 am #

    Steve, I accosted you and got you to sign my copy of Earthed in the backstage area of the Globe Nightclub in Perth in December of 2003. I share the same feelings as all the other people that have commented on this entry. There was something so powerful about this one that has motivated me to also ask you to give us more of this sort of stuff. It’s the SK we want to know.

  39. avatar
    Anonymous | 11 January 2006 at 4:07 am #

    Great blogg,

    Catching up on a few days backlog, this is the start of the movie script


  40. avatar
    sue c | 11 January 2006 at 11:46 am #

    Read this one yet again…beautiful SK. Love the sentimental you as well as the ranting and raving lunatic genius ๐Ÿ™‚

  41. avatar
    rubikon | 1 February 2006 at 1:17 pm #

    Pete is VERY tall! but all the bullies – well I guess they’re not so tall anymore.

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