posted on May 28, 2009 at 6:56 am

the dead here
the dead see
dead calm
dead of winter
out of the pink sky
in a better universe
nectarine by gb3 is number one
lovers all over the double globe
the very sound of something coming on
something strong
something washing you away
something taking you with it
that lovely reverb drenched chorus of female ahs
we come to the climactic chord
we anticipate its orgasmic thrust
a slight ostinato klunk a micro second
and then all heaven breaks loose
oh it hurts…..nectarine….sings the gb3
and the guitars fizzle n crackle n sparkle and burn out
and the music is so simple
and it hurts…nectarine
the drums pound like your runaway heart
your heart as you lash out blindly at the fruity world
you struggle in a barrel full of peaches
you swim thru a sea of honey still breathing it in
youre a big fat worm boring into the teachers apple
youre a love child of the high priestess and the gardener
electric guitars
howcome only glenn bennie can play like that
what does he do to supercharge this simple stuff with such love
gooey teenage heartbreaking love you all
now youre crushed…baby whats the rush sings the voice
and you just wanna hear that song
and they say adam sang that song to eve
and the cherubim burned and hovered
and the fruit was heavy on the vine
and phil spector appeared
shooting at his wall of sound
be my be my baby
be my little baby
as it hits the inevitable minor chord
a million superstars finger their guitars
overdosing live on stage
tripping out on that lingering distorted blast
the drums fucking pound on regardless
the bass is a regulated squirt of speed
it remains behind mopping up stragglers
the bass niggles away insistently rubbery and black
and it hurts ….nectarine…..
the song plays for the 3rd time
the parallel universe with the best taste in classic pop is vibratin’
you never close your eyes anymore when i kiss your lips
the sun aint gonna shine anymore
and it hurts….nectarine…
i hope that jehovah got my uh telegram
and ronnie spectre appears on yer tiny blacknwhite astor screen
dont worry baby everything will turn out alright
on the porch the songs have brought summer
and the kids make out in the darkness
will the wall of sound / crashes all around
heavenly shades of night are falling
i saw her standing there on blackberry way
with the leader of the pack
(down down down)
and let me be yer shelter
and the guitars travel in yer bloodstream if you really love her
and if you could only get yer hands on a guitar
youd show her
youd show everyone
voice in another song : youve forgotten the xylophone
oh yes the xylophone is always twinkling above the song
indicating the fickle incandescent nature of the lyrics crush
twinkling like dumb little stars
reminding you
somewhat obliquely of naked 1950s women in bnw mags
and some new york traffic jam
and times square in the snow in 1954
and phil in-spectre drowns george in reverb
and the drums pound away silently like may even
and the teenage moon blushes pink in the candyland sky
and the cymbals tongue kiss the vu meters into the red
and glenn bennies got all these backwards loops
and snippets of guitar all working against each other
like thoughts that go round in round in yer head
like your underground, lover
like its left you blind
and you rush rush rush rush on by
and you think
the music all turned up in brightness so thats its going into white
and adelita singing hes a thief thief thief thief
and glenns guitar burns up in our atmosphere
and its the way he plays
this man is a pop guitar genius
a creator of dazzling arty-facts
the guy from the sydney morning herald today said
the underground lovers yeah..they never did one bad track!
and everyone nods in agreement
and it hurts….nectarine
and the acoustic guitars strum away like spanish romeo
climbing up the rose bush
and the song shudders to a halt
but i just want to hear it again
its contagious
its addictive
and it hurts…..

not available in this universe for some time

31 Responses to “the dead see nectarine”

  1. avatar
    Anonymous | 28 May 2009 at 8:26 am #

    holy mackeral…
    i cant wait …and its still a ways off.. that whole thing i go through knowing every second inches me nearer to the bliss/fix
    only to have to let it go such a short time later ..they boys are comin and i love/hate it…peace old bean

  2. avatar
    Anonymous | 28 May 2009 at 9:49 am #

    Im writing this so you dont feel lonely tonight
    Have decamped the
    viscious swamp
    female factory floor
    where we
    heel the sic
    off to reclaim my
    self a safe place
    in a better futurist
    (or woman of steel
    off to
    fight another day)

    4 days off the ciggies
    hold the line
    (straight is the new stoned)
    Jen x

  3. avatar
    Anonymous | 28 May 2009 at 10:22 am #

    ooooh baby give it to me

  4. avatar
    Freddie | 28 May 2009 at 10:41 am #


    not available in this universe for some time “

    Oh… it hurts…it hurts.
    Wicked boy!!!

  5. avatar
    princey | 28 May 2009 at 10:45 am #

    The kinda song that makes ya weep to sleep…..GB you meek’n’mild genius!!!
    and the words, those words, who could write like that, only the one and only sk, is he human or machine:))))))
    love Amanda

  6. avatar
    Anonymous | 28 May 2009 at 12:15 pm #

    hex gets prime space. love that. and all those delicious collaborative projects.
    infused with love , ??


  7. avatar
    davem | 28 May 2009 at 1:01 pm #


  8. avatar
    Anonymous | 28 May 2009 at 1:15 pm #

    In other universes do you have a personal android to chauffeur you around in a mercedes?

    Are there many bands that play at ‘Heavens’, the central nightclub?

    Is Robbie Williams doing a cabaret where he has to sing ‘Rudebox’ eternally (just the one song for him).

    And do REM play Losing My Religion and Man on the Moon as they warm up for Joe Dolce headlining?

    Or have I crossed my wires in a Wireless world?

    But The Church play the VIP lounge, and I speak my command to the chauffeur -‘Heavens 2 merc-android’

  9. avatar
    John Garratt | 28 May 2009 at 1:49 pm #

    Just read the Pitchfork review for “#23.”


  10. avatar
    Anonymous | 28 May 2009 at 2:51 pm #

    You know when you hear a lyric and you not sure if you’re hearing it right? Well, I’m getting that with Operetta…Where’s the ladies dressed in white? (in the teaparks of the night)

    And you know what? I actually like the imagery of the ladies in white in the teaparks of the night, and I don’t care if it’s not that being sung!

    Are they gently twirling around, like in some synchronized 1950s kaleoidoscopic waltz, skirts billowing in the breeze, each holding their saucers and sipping from their dinky china cups just so.

    Yeah it makes me smile, and that’s a good thing!

  11. avatar
    restaurant mark | 28 May 2009 at 5:24 pm #

    another good one…imagine that…

    late yesterday afternoon sophia heard her first album…her first music really. untitled #23 of course. she was just laying on my wife looking very peaceful and content the whole time. amelia just said wow, that’s really good after every song. and i know i’m late with this, but it really is one amazing album steve. at first upon just hearing clips on itunes i thought, sounds good but it’s mostly so down beat…tempo wise. but after really listening to it all the way through the first time i was just blown away at how strong each song is…i could care less about the tempos. each one is it’s own separate sonic journey, and as whole so cohesive and paced perfectly. a lot of times with records i feel the running order could be different…this one should be here, this one should be at the end, etc. but this one is perfectly laid out. the whole trip is connected seamlessly. and i could go on and on about the vocal melodies, the spiderwebs of guitar parts, the groovy basslines, and tim’s brilliantly placed beats. but i’ll just stop and say well done sir…you and your bandmates have achieved another musical high. thank you.

    take care

  12. avatar
    Brien Comerford | 28 May 2009 at 6:17 pm #

    Even though the PITCHFORK review of # 23 was positive I did not care for it. It also referred readers to a “Beside Yourselfreview which was better. Good aspects of the reviews were praise for Powles, MWP, SK and Priest=Aura. The reviewer underestimated the excellence of ” After Everthing Now This” and did not bother to reference the spectacular “Hologram of Baal”. Plaudits for his apprecaition of Uninvited Like The Clouds. He tried but I don’t think he has a mastery of all the 1994 to 2009 Church Cds.

  13. avatar
    davem | 28 May 2009 at 6:48 pm #

    Thanks for KK guys.
    I’m just loving it.
    It’s been a lovely, sunny day in blighty and I’m blessed with a smashing 300 foot garden full of stunning shrubs and missus m’s lovingly tendered flowers. KK has been the perfect backdrop.
    I’ve been off work this afternoon ‘cos the cats really not well and it’s all been kind of melancholy with the kids getting older and starting to fly the nest too.
    But then I’ve had this beautiful music and my relationship to enjoy…and it’s all good you know.
    SK, this collab is so lush and lovely. I love the way (exactly as with Isidore) that you sometimes have to stretch and elaborate or sometimes almost strangle the words to enhance the music someone else has provided. It gives a different angle to your inimitable ability as a lyricist. It magnifies it.
    Magical Steve (and Martin). thank you so much…yet again!
    I always wish I was more gifted with words so that I could thank you more appropriately, but I feel what you do in my soul. I really do.

  14. avatar
    CSTCoach | 28 May 2009 at 8:22 pm #

    Trying again to post re: U#23. It just occurred to me to post in two parts…

    Untitled #23, the new album from Australian rock legends The Church, may just be their most successful yet. After having risen to global acclaim in the 80’s with the hit single “Under the Milky Way”, The Church and popular music soon parted company. They chose the road less traveled—the road of constant evolution, daring experimentation, and uncompromising artistic integrity. Judging by the reviews of Untitled #23 (including a top-shelf 5 stars in Rolling Stone), those paths may have converged once again.

    I’ve had a difficult time writing about this album because each listen reveals another layer, a few new notes, a new interpretation. In truth, it’s what The Church has always done best. They defy easy categorization because the best of their music is timeless, existing in a universe of its own.

    I can’t help but interpret this new album as a continuum. I see so many threads coming together here, threads that The Church have explored over the past decade on several albums and side projects. They’ve all converged—quite magically—in Untitled #23, with supreme artistry and consummate musicianship.

    There’s the rawness that The Church began to explore on Forget Yourself (or really, as early as the Refo:mation side project)—the distortions, dischords, harsh sounds and rough edges. There’s the highly polished production and the wistfulness of After Everything, Now This. There’s the pop savvy and infectious energy of Uninvited, Like the Clouds. And Steve Kilbey’s lyrics echo the mystical insights, classical references and surreal impressions of his early career (Remindlessness, Heyday, etc), but with the world-weary melancholy and personalism of more recent projects (Isidore and Beside Yourself both come to mind). On top of all this, each band member’s mastery of their respective instruments is absolute, and Kilbey’s voice has never sounded better. All of these elements have melded alchemically into what may just be the perfect Church album.

    The structure of Untitled #23 reminds me of their most commercially successful album, Starfish. It’s got that same balance of the pensive and the vibrant, those vast layered soundscapes that cause you to float somewhere out of yourself, paired with the ability to hit intense heights of emotional build which no one nails quite like these guys (the sort of intense driving build that makes ‘Block’ from Uninvited, Like The Clouds such an amazing opening track). But perhaps the most impressive thing about this new work is how The Church can gather together from the four corners of the globe and lay it all down in just a week or so of magical jams. When four such talented individuals come together, you’d expect the end product to be filled with signature riffs, individual “show-off” touches of virtuosity. That isn’t the case with Untitled #23. Each individual effort is tuned to the creation of one unified, seamless vision. These are artists at the height of their powers, exhibiting absolute mastery of their craft.

    For lack of a better means of approach, I’d like to give my immediate first impressions of each track of this album. Quick, simple sketches from the hip…

    (to be con’t)

  15. avatar
    CSTCoach | 28 May 2009 at 8:23 pm #

    (part two)

    ‘Cobalt Blue’ – Strange chords—I would almost describe it as ‘dis-chordant’—shimmer in with an offset beat that immediately makes me sit up and take notice. The chorus sets the tone of where we’re about to be taken: “And its nothing/nothing you could know…” In this song and the next one Kilbey lays down a soundtrack of places I feel I’ve been: “Desert wind in a telephone box” and “Camp by a lake in the blackened lands”. It’s a personal landscape I could almost imagine was written for me. Kilbey’s magic is such that, like prophecy, any Church connoisseur must feel this way.

    ‘Deadman’s Hand’ – An ‘Aura’ for today. Like that earlier track from the 1991 album Priest=Aura (which Kilbey has described as a vast, sprawling opium dream), it’s a dark tale of conflict (“On our way to crush the revolution…”) through terrain which could just as easily be a bleak desert land or the ravaged inner landscape of our own emotions.

    ‘Pangaea’ – The sort of thing The Church does best. This track floats, taking you off someplace beyond the veil until you forget yourself entirely, existing as pure music. Time, relationships, material success and lost worlds blend together and interpenetrate each other until you’re no longer entirely sure where you stand. And who but Steve Kilbey would write a rock song about a long lost supercontinent? The thing is, Kilbey knows Pangaea’s echoes are still with us today. We’re walking on them…

    ‘Happenstance’ – Kilbey’s cracked velvet voice at it’s coolest. Pure poetry as he spins images, not in narrative form, but as a series of impressions that come together to create the feeling he’s conjuring. Mysterious lyrics followed by an understated line—much like his signature plays on words (which flip reality inside out and cause you to see it from an unexpected angle), it’s what he does best.

    ‘Space Saviour’ – A ridiculously cool opening riff—upbeat and naïve— that slows suddenly as the vocals come in. The vocals are so heart wrenchingly earnest, and they build and build, but in the end he doesn’t release you—just like the love he’s singing about. This is the new SK, the naïve romantic who finally cast aside his cynical shoegazer cool and came into the open on songs like ‘Musidora’ (from Isidore) and ‘Jazz’ (from Beside Yourself). This one’s on heavy rotation at my place.

    (okay, con’t once more…)

  16. avatar
    CSTCoach | 28 May 2009 at 8:23 pm #

    (part three…)

    ‘On Angel Street’ – Perfect prose poetry. It immediately reminded me of Kilbey’s coolest spoken word stuff—‘Fall in Love’ from Narcosis +, ‘Saltwater’ from Isidore, or ‘Another Day’ (a one-off collaboration). Subtle touches of music—a few notes here, the raw peal of an anguished guitar—paint the landscape as Kilbey, in a few well chosen verses, captures the dissolution of a relationship. I don’t know how to express it except to say that it goes beyond words; the sum total of the music and the lyrics manifest as a colour. His tale ends on such a perfect image: “You should change the message on your machine/So sad, so strange baby, to hear my name” and then “And the line it just goes dead/And the trail it just goes cold/I guess that story’s told, anyway.” The deft musical touches as the song drifts off—a note here, a distortion there, some backwards guitars—are absolutely perfect.

    ‘Sunken Sun’ – Among my favourite sort of Church song. A fractured lens of several myths: Orpheus, Pluto, Eurydice (except this time Orpheus chooses love, casting aside his return ticket to remain in the underworld). And again, who but Kilbey would write a rock song that opens “I dreamed I saw the minotaur”? I love the spell this beautiful song weaves. “Eternity loomed in my garret room”—it’s this sort of writing which pegs Steve Kilbey as the greatest lyricist of this age. He builds such poetry and then immediately changes the tone with a clever, light double meaning (“I had a girl in the underworld/She was a spirited little thing”) which he sings with absolute sincerity. It’s never what you anticipate or expect.

    ‘Anchorage’ – One of my top Church songs ever. A perfect example of the sort of build only they are capable of. The verses drive you like a rocket, and each chorus incorporates another instrument or sound, taking you higher and higher, driving towards the ecstatic. Kilbey’s delivery is more and more urgent. The repeated images of ice spiral on like a mantra. None of his delivery or rhythms are predictable (the use of broken rhythm is high level martial arts—he’s a master of his craft). It’s the combination of those small artistic touches that no one else thinks to apply which puts The Church on an entirely different league of creative genius. This is The Church and Steve Kilbey at their absolute best.

    ‘Lunar’ – A fine little dream of a song. It’s compact grace—like a deftly executed miniature painting—reminded me of ‘Night Flower’ from Parallel Universe. A feeling or a mood, captured in a song.

    ‘Operetta’ – A lovely, soaring closing track. A bit of the dreamy nursery tale quality of ‘It’s No Reason’ from Séance, paired with the understated intentions of ‘Song to Go’ from Uninvited, Like the Clouds. But this time the album doesn’t resolve. It leaves you on such a high note that you’re helpless to do anything but hit ‘repeat’.

    This may just be the best Church album in a decade, and a ‘second coming’ for an underappreciated band that absolutely deserves one.

    (there you have it – sorry to be such a windbag, but i really love this album!)

  17. avatar
    loolaabillions | 28 May 2009 at 9:02 pm #

    an undeniably

    yum d’ yum….xx

  18. avatar
    Anonymous | 28 May 2009 at 9:10 pm #

    sorry for changing the subject

    but another very important good review…this time from pitchfork


  19. avatar
    fantasticandy | 28 May 2009 at 9:15 pm #

    looks like iv’e been a bit ignorant of glen’s work up till now….
    busy putting things right……

  20. avatar
    Hellbound Heart | 28 May 2009 at 9:57 pm #

    oh yeah make it hurt soooo gooood i just love it when you rave about music like this……you are such a teeeeeaaaasssee
    love always…..

  21. avatar
    steve kilbey | 28 May 2009 at 11:08 pm #

    hey cst
    loved the thing about the broken rhythm
    yeah keeps them lovers n fighters on their toes…
    i thought pitchfork was tripe ! ….7?
    if i ever catch up with that geezer i’ll give ‘im fuckin’ 7

    jesus…cant they find a decent writer
    the review was the worst piece of namby pamby rubbish ever

    love to you all

  22. avatar
    Jasperina | 28 May 2009 at 11:23 pm #

    You sir through your magical incantation of words and sounds create a better universe. I am on my knees and completely undone by your words today.

  23. avatar
    Anonymous | 29 May 2009 at 12:48 am #

    to be fair sk, you are a much talented writer than most. You are a wise man and great communicator.I have no doubt in my mind that this stuff just pours out of you. To hold others to that same standard becomes frustrating. At the office today a co-worker told me he had emailed me the link to the pitchfork review. I said what’s a pitchfolk? Your blog entry was a lesson in how to write a review. ryan, not too shabby either.


  24. avatar
    Anonymous | 29 May 2009 at 1:46 am #

    now having actually read
    this pitchfolk review
    I have to agree with you


  25. avatar
    Anonymous | 29 May 2009 at 2:13 am #

    isn’t pangaea obviously about being in the church. blog song

  26. avatar
    Anonymous | 29 May 2009 at 2:42 am #

    OH MY LORD,;) ;0 xo

  27. avatar
    Matthew | 29 May 2009 at 3:45 am #

    Mr. Kilbey, if you read this, I want to make you a special offer when you visit the states – Washington, DC (or Falls Church, Virginia to be exact)- a midnight tour of Arlington National Cemetery…President Kennedy and 300,000 more in graves. No one gets to do this. I work there. I can take you and the rest of the band. Let me know.

  28. avatar
    Anonymous | 29 May 2009 at 3:59 am #

    haha re pitchfork
    take my word for it…an 80’s band getting 7 on pitchfork (the guy was a turd …he said that the album was really good then gave it a 7) good news. Usually its an excuse for them to act cool and give the album a 3 or something.
    …and that place is highly influential with all the young indie kids

  29. avatar
    Anonymous | 29 May 2009 at 4:04 am #

    Jeez,if you didn’t like the Pitchfork review you maybe didn’t come across the knobhead whose review was saying that The Church hadn’t ever done anything to surpus Unguarded Moment. Now that was pure unadulterated pish.

  30. avatar
    Hellbound Heart | 29 May 2009 at 4:35 am #

    well i’ve just finished my first listen to the k/k album and i must say that it’s perfect for a friday afternoon…..wonderful sonderful wonderful!!!!!!

    love always….

  31. avatar
    John Garratt | 29 May 2009 at 1:33 pm #

    Pitchfork even got the cover art wrong. How hard is it to get the correct cover art? In the age of such rapid information? Dumbass.

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