The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

oh you lovely fiendss
its monday
1st of may
isnt there a song
“when we were small
and christmas trees were tall
blah blah blah blah the 1st of may”
by the bee gees?
gee ya gotta be ancient to remember that one…..
and isnt it when the “workers” march in europe
i guess i dont qualify for that one then
when do the “loafers” march…?
well we wont march tho
we’ll amble
we’ll stroll
we’ll fucking take our good time

been havin a lovely few days
rpk n mikey h came round for din dins satday nite
nk (being an american) cooked up vegan chilli n tacos n guaco
rpk enjoyed it, didnt ya?
must be that mexican blood on yer aunty lous side…
then sunday morning we all go for a surf
down the norf end
where there having an iron man race
complete with sausage sizzle
(aurora “its so disgustin”)
and a aussie wally on the pa system
blasting all over the beach
in accents that make kath n kim
sound like the queen
“here comes bluey hobbs, whatta good lil runnah
cmon give im a big cheer, just behind wazza dickson…etc etc”
blasting my tinitus with his nasal nonsense
when i just wanted a swim
evie n aurora play the usual game
of jump on daddys back n drown him
as i try to body surf
after lunchy
we all go down another park and play kubb
complete with a persistent little boy
who keeps running over and kicking our stuff down
i dont say anything and just stick it back up
on the third or fourth time he runs over again
our eyes lock
and we have a battle of wills
jesus hes so determined to ruin our game
but hes only about 3
males just got this thing for trouble n strife i guess
finally he retreats after ive given him my sternest
i wouldnae do that agaain, sonny jim look
and we continue our game
oh such a beautiful park we play in
with its groves of figs palms n oaks
secluded n shady
we are very lucky to enjoy these things
and i wish everyone in the ye olde worlde
coulda hadda nice day with the fam like i did
but sadly most people in this world
were probably scramblin’ just to eat or drink
so we must always appreciate our good fortune
cos it dont always last forever..
tonite i play at the starfish club (no relation)
with jon z, david l n hamish s
its gonna be loverly i hope
nothing like my shambolic newt town giggle
this will be the bees knees
so be there
or be square
but im gonna be doing jazz odyssey fer sure…
marty has left oz to put the finishing touches
on our little euro tour
and i already miss his “steve?”
as he rings me up to hear about my latest
self inflicted catastrophe
man us 2 have been thru some upsa n downsa together
so many adventures, triumphs, arguments, disappointments etc
thru thick n thin
we been there with each other
mwp you are a gentleman and a scallop
not a badde guitar twanger neither
a very funky bass player
AND
a powerful n virile drummer
(hes not that great on crumplehorn tho)
i am surrounded by great musicians and technicians
imagine the sliding scale from fernando n rock round the clock
and playin with jonny z or peter k
or workin with simon p
these guys are the best there is
and its like the difference between a horsen cart
or an e type jag
the good players make it so easy for ya
so easy on the ears
and they make it look easy too
peter k looks like hes putting hardly any effort in
yet theres a huge wall of sound flowing from his fingers
a gentleman player, he is….no sweat.
mwp is the opposite
he cant help himself
i guess im somewhere in the middle of them…
(of course)
blog blog blog
blah blah blah
what else…?
i dunno
last day of hols for the doodle gurlss
back to school tomorrow
back to the human sausage factory
what can you do?
look what it did to me….
ah it aint so badde
its a lot less draconian now…
i used to get whacked on the back of the knee
with the stick end of a feather duster when i was six
boy did that hurt..
and then in high school the cane!!!
ooooh fiendss…thatsa weird pain
right down yer arm into yer spine
like getting kicked in the balls
nasty stuff ladies
but always a good last resort
if no aint meaning no
if ya know what i mean
bloody men
theyve ruined this world
if only the women were more in charge…
the women who they get now
are just surrogate men inna mans world
condo leaser rice etc
maggie thatcha
theyre not real women

talking of which
(ha!)
saw a doco on the witch trials lassa nite
i said to nk before we watch
this is gonna make us angry
and it did
midwives
healers
old ladies with a bit of herbal knowledge
young girls
anyone
tortured n burnt
by the sick woman hating fucking church
up to its eyeballs
in blood
debauchery
corruption
and anything else ya can think of
the helplessness of the victims
their innocence
the barbaric trials
dip ya in water
if ya drown…ya innocent
if ya dont..ya burn!!
not really my idea of justice, fienddss
whoever gave these sick n twisted little bastards
the power to run around burning women
quoting JC to justify their outrage
beelzebub has a devil put aside for thee

so please dont be disappointed
if im not so jazzed on the catholic church
i reckon theyd do it all over again if they only still had the power
power corrupts
people get power
they wanna use it
you give someone power of life n death
sure enuff
sooner or later
he gonna use it
and its always the worst ones who take it
look at em
hitler
napoleon
the kings n queens of europe
the kaiser
stalin
the bushs
howard
blair
weak cowardly turkeys
who never stand in the line of fire themselves
but can always dream up a reason why you should
if bushs twin daughters were called up in the army
and were gonna be sent to iraq
you reckon he woulda been so eager?
no
i reckon hed be calling for patience
“oh ah…lets wait a little longer, no hurry…”

anyway
theres my rant for today
cut it
collect the whole set
remember me
when they put me away for sedition
i love ya
sk

gorgeous late autumn sunday morning
i sit at my kitchen table
with aurora justine k
shes drawing flowers n fairies
with the doodles new glittery pens
(im having a bit of a fiddle with em myself)
the air is crisp but not at all cold
australian birds sing outside in the different gums n palms
compared to dry old cold canberra
bondi is a tropical paradise
red n orange n crimson hibisci
white frangipanis the most aromatic flowers
ones with slight pale yellow
or rosy whorls becoming maroon near the edges
thousands of flowers i couldnt name
a passionfruit tree with pink autumnal blossoms
and the strange mixture of trees
the figs
the ghost gums
oaks
twisted strange native trees
paperbarks
scribbly barks
its all still
silent
except for enos on land
which is playing softly on the kitchen counter
i can see evie lying in her bed
looking at the ceiling
letting her mind roam with miraculous freedom
that only children and madmen and geniuses understand
its funny with twins
they usually do their imaginings together
me….ii lived in world i had sculpted and formed
in a crowded part of my mind
it was made of
playing cards
(to me the diamonds and clubs were the good guys
just check out the jacks…
the hearts and spades, those jacks,
they look like cads n ne’er do wells
blackguards
while the ds n cs
their jacks (princes..?)
were sensitive kind and usually without
the horrible little moustaches…
then as i am talking about cards
i think who or what do the aces represent?
hmmm…well…
theyre higher than kings
but are also sometimes the lowest….the one
they represent the point where absolute power
either coagulates into the all powerful ONE
or devolves into the singular lonely one
they are the link
where communism meets fascism
where beauty n ugliness collide
the interzone
the apex
and the nadir
consider this fiendss
and look at the cards next time you playing
hmmm most blokes i know
would laugh if ya asked em to play monopoly
or even draughts
chess
but cards
ahh
lotta people love the cards
i do
im fascinated with em
and five hundred is my favourite game
but i can turn into the sinner when i play…
)
other things that informed my daydream
were marbles
(once again joycies spatial clout came in handy)
but although i was good
i was never the best
and i lost lotsa marbles
i had a personal relationship with
(a white one with a yellow ring round the centre)
we played “follows” in nsw
where you just shoot for the other guy
catch as catch can
in victoria we played big ring n little ring
where you shoot the other guys marbles outta a circle
but without your shooter getting caught in the circle
except i think in big ring you wanted to get in..
in the a.c.t it was holey
and only holey
this was my favourite game
and the one that got me totally hooked
its a form of gambling
i justa realized that
youre staking something you love
something that is intrinsically worth something to ya
and when you lose
ah…the sick despair
the bruised ego
the struggle to smile
or say something
the need to repress the shout
“you bloody cheat!!
all the bad chemicals that come with losing..
losing anything
money
yer lover
or marbles…
but the winning
mmmm
oooh lovely ego rush crush acquire
to defeat your rival
collect his booty
“kilbey, youve cleaned me out”
moaned a hapless boy in my back garden in canberra
we had a perfect back garden for holey, baybee
rocky sandy soil grass all terrains are us
you dig a hole
you say how many yer wagering
“how many up, kilbey?)
“ten up, mate
“ten….no way, im only playing for 5”
then youd say
no pots or grannies
this meant that the other player could not invoke
any arcane rules
to get himself outta a jam
it was a clean game
then youd get to the nominated distance from the hole
start shooting
(theyre was even a special and the only legal way
to shoot and that was to flick with the hand laid flat
alongside the marble and catching the forefinger
under the middle finger
you lightly flick
now the strength and subtlety of yer flick
was the very essence of the game
like golf or pool
except in those games the balls represent something
but are nae of importance of themselves
in marbles the balls are the prize and the wager
what an amazing twist
anyway in holey you won
by sinking the last marble
that means when theyre all in the whole bar one
if you have a go at sinking the last one
and you just miss
then youre opponent can easily sink it
and win the lot
so theyre was a very elaborate endgame
trying to have potshots at the hole
but hard
so if ya missed it would go off away from the hole
of course sometimes it went in the hole n bounced back out
sometimes it would go round n round the hole
and roll back out
sitting right on the rim
where the other kid could just tip it in
and your heart would sink right thru yer boots
yeah i cleaned em out
and they cleaned me out
and it was like going bankrupt
you hadda hit yer parents up
to buy some loathesome new marbles
now theres another thing
the beautiful rare n valuable marbles
you could never buy em
they were in circulation
but you hadda win em
ya couldnt buy em
all you could buy were these dull common “guts stickers”
average green flecked things
sometimes if you wanted an americano
or a tom bowler
or a bottler
ya hadda stake a number of the gutstickers
so getting wiped out was tragic
and addictive
wow
marbles my first addiction
anyway now im outta time
i love ya
sk

i am ether pirate
i am copping this airspace for nothing
ho ho ho
how long before im cut off…?
this is my 3rd attempt at blogging this morning, fiendiess
twice already today
i have lost the lot
if i go off the air again
im just gonna cry

anyway
received glenny benny from the undies
new lp yessaday
starstudded line up, ladies n gentlemen
stephen cummo
grantley maclennon
adalita from magic dirt( nice one!!)
sarah blasko
angie hart
gianna lee from andromeda
phillipa nihill from the unders
but the whole thing holds together
in one continuum
every other singers done a lovely job
on their track
bennies music remains superb
just like the curchh
hes getting better n better
he is himself and no other
he picks up his giutar or synth
and he is gb
and being yourself is no meen feet
thats the hardest thing to do
to turn into yerself
i wasnt myself for ages
like a pot of cold milk oats salt n sugar
i was just sullenly floating about
just a bunch of influences n ideas
i didnae even notice it at first
but one day i guess i turned on my old 4 track
and out stepped sk
an instant geenius
like athene
falling formed from zeus head
there i was
me, at last
all the olde skin shed
i had my own take on it
i had my own spin
i wanted to include
trex
bobdylan
dylan thomas
bowie
beatles
stones
patti smiff
v. undieground
be bop deluxe
the doctors of madness
twilight zone
sci fict n fant
rimbaud
surrealism
impressionism
futurism
all of that and more
i threw into the process which created me
an ya know what fiendss
i aint influenced by
nor do i wanna be like any o the following
rem
u2
coldplay
the byrds( well, very little)
echo and the bmen
grunge
emo
rap
disco
country n westin
none of those
if ya read a revue
and it mentions any thing on the a list
ya know they got it right
anything on the b list they getting it wrong
we are nothing to do with the 80s
anymore than you are
we lived thru it just like you all did
thats it
if you wanna bark up the wrong tree go ahead
you ever see a picture of me looking 80s
(you probably seen one where i looked 80, tho)
nope
we are not about movements
eras
nostalgia
youth oer
olde age
we are musicians trying to describe
something sublime
and we disavow being a part of anything
i dont care who ive influenced or not
i dont care what the critics say
be it love or hate
i only care what you fiendss think
and even that
will not sway me from my lifelong need
to plough this furrow
and i’ll plow it
even if i reap success or indifference
and pat yerselves on the back if ya like
what i/we do
in the simple terms of rocknroll
we strive to stretch it to its limit
and yet it still has to be us
thats a dilemma to be hammered straight fiendss
it can take a quarter of a century
its a slippery slope
easy to go off one side or thother
its a marathon
the race doesnt end till yer die
and then ya come back and start all over again
and you gotta learn it all over again
unless ya remember
and then they call you a prodigy
and i know its not easy to keep on track
so i thank ya for ya patience
thats understood
i will continue to explore the othertime
and the empty place
now i been off the gear awhile
and i been hitting the pool n the y. mat
breathing in the prana-chi-love
my mind clearing
ideas come to me
unbidden
unhidden
there is no work in this for me
my fingers glide over my bass
like flames licking the wood
they work independently
my voice sings
words arrive in my mind
i do nothing
my blogg is dictated to me
by the saint or the sinner
sometimes, often
they share it
anyway
im gonna proclaim my belief in god
i call him vishnu
call him arthur if you want
let him be whatever you like
but talk to him
ask him to reveal himself
it takes so long my lord
my sweet lord
no instant grat fiendss
not here
sorry
on monday nite at 9 15
im playing a gig with 2 of austs
finest jazz players
real musicians musicians
i already rehearsed with em
and let me tell ya these cats are magic
jonathan z on double bass
hamish s on drums

plus
david lane
whos playing i love
esp in this context
at the icebergs club
bondi fucking beach fiendss
be there!
and
maybe i’ll even be worth a revue this time…..
(sigh)

sk

amplitiude
inexact measurement
positive
negative
unsatisfied externals
shadow dimension x
strange menace moving in the past
witch trials
2 gods
uncertain ratio
sudden voltage in the night
electrical disturbance
antimony
acheiving the exact opposite
secretion of object
fake medium
the houdini factor
steve kilbey,51
match
set
point
in the distance
new world waits for discovery
darkest america
colony
governors pleasure
her majesty in blue
sharks
absolution
les n joyce buy their tickets
shift
sift
gears engaged
doesnt matter if you shooter or drinker
mania
powder
rush
pain
the awful ache
god remove this
please
remove this
septembre 13 rolls around
at last
echo beach faraway in time
fraud
bribe
3 coins in the fountain
paid off
laid off
thankless task
vishnu appears by the ganges
inner vision
out of body
terminus
full fare
subsonic
miracle st
need to learn spanish
ive got my password
set up
ready to glow
burn it for me
make a copy
make me smile
the bleeding oblivious
taken for granted
undine
spirits
disappearing point
fine

i waited fifteen minutes
before i climbed out of the chrysalis
so this was the world of men…!
other than the enveloping fog
nothing had really changed
the soft moan of the shells was audible
even in the asian gardens
the centres sprinklers system had malfunctioned
the cameras became damaged by the water
the film exposed revealed hidden shadows
lurking in the velvet black
lamp black
chinese white
a crumbly powder
i wondered what that was used for
people appeared behind curtains embracing
a sooty grimy city night fell down almost at once
black cats criss-crossed my path
the marshes bayed for human blood
mosquitoes as big as swallows
built nests in that stagnant thinktank
once a library
now home to book worms
devouring your autobiography
living your life in negative
so this 2006
how futuristic
forever young
forever beautiful
forever surfing the present
into this future
which parts for you
like a vein red sea
until you are deep in deep time
then it slows down around you
you wake up sleepwalking
in the enemy camp
you are now so far gone
youve rebounded off infinity
and youre staggering round this neck of the woulds
you quoting poe to the sikh parking inspector
you wearing crimson in eden
you with the cute snarl
well thats the way it goes
i guess
im not prepared to expect anything much
its a hot/cold day/night here
suddenly im empty

you see
thats the trubble with me….
yesterdays blogg
what a vile rant
bilious poisonous tripe
that stopped being funny
about a second after i typed it..
oh yes my wise brother
who appears on these pages in different guises
warning me when i go too far
judge not lest ye be yourself judged
(now mr p. savant
as eager as you are
to stick it to the manne
just take my name off that rant
and you can go do whatever you like
with it
especially if youre in the taxation dept
try not to stick it up on the noticeboard
in the vip bathroom
but i sympathise with ya
i really do
the security sucks you under
but it suffocates ya at the same time
there will be more on my
misadventures in the ps coming soon)
but back to 2 things
which puzzle me about my self
why cant i get control of my evil twin?
and
why canberra?
why does canberra haunt my thoughts
now fiendsss have ya ever noticed
theres some silly man putting some olde
and dreadful lyrics up on the comments?
are they supposed to embarass me?
(jesus, they sure do)
but what is the real reason?
cmon, unmask yaself,
i gotta pretty good idea who you are
or put some new ones up there
gee it gives me the creeps to think of ya
sitting in ya office typing that same olde
nonsense everytime
and cmon
if ya really know me
as i assume yer insinuating
ya must have some worse ones up ya sleeve
than those tired olde turkeys

but why do my thoughts turn towards canberra
when i have been so many places since then
ive done so much
ive been up
ive been down
i seen places that i never thought id see
(yeah kilbey, like the inside offa u.s. jail)
i been to one of the most northern cities on earth
the guy who put the gig on was worried that the
good ice- hole fishing was gonna ruin
the walk up for the gig
now thatsa problem
you dont have in sydney at least
i been to rio de janeiro
like a wild lawless sydney itself
thatssa a wild place fiendss
they got everything there
anyhow
despite having done all the stuff
and not having lived there for 30 years
the place niggles at me
it makes me laugh to think of a few olde codgers
who hated me when i was “on the canberra scene” man)
who now dine out on their stories
how they knew me n pete
and how
blah blah blah
(insert yer own baby grande anecdote here, boys)
anyhow
some score is unsettled?
what does olde canberra want with me?
i thought itd be sweet revenge on ya
when i become a huge olde rock star for my
fifteen minutes
but to tell ya the truth i did never think
of ya at all in those days…
now dont get me wrong canberrans
i love so many of you dear thingss
kathy n kon up in harkett
these people fill my heart with tenderness
i cant believe how nice they are
no animal products either
sometimes i imagine myself walking
thru canberra on a hot
(always a hot canberran night
the smell of the pines)
night
i walk thru the suburbs
to gaze on the people i know
and knew there
my uncle ken and aunty irene
speartackle…how are ya?
the saga bouys…it was my fault, lads…
itsa ok
i was a real ratbag
the noisy one in class
just like now
i couldnae control my evil twin
who looked just like me
except he had a horrible way
of pissing everybody off
im sorry
i thought geniuses were allowed
(supposed?) to act like that
im sorry to all the guitarists
bass players
drummers
singers
who i criticised
rudely loudly obnoxiously
yes dave studdert kicked me outta his groop
hell baby grande kicked me outta my own group
im sure the hcruhc have entertained the thought
if you think im obnoxious
you should see how it feels to be me
remember the lady called hel
one side beauty
the other rotting corpse
thats like me
half sinner
half saint
so i guess i got some unfinished bizness
with canberra
but when i go there
i can never find what it is
it has evaporated over the years
leaving only the congealed crust
of some nagging feeling
russell n i hadda look at our olde house
theres no nostalgia here
i say to him
its a mansion now
all our memories are gone
same with the school
me n russell go down there sometimes
only once
on a warm dusk in december
did we make contact with the past..
aahhh….
its all comin back to me

anyway
baby grande was pretty rough
you dont really wanna hear it
i dont blame the others
they were my stupid songs
it was right they should be banished
to obscurity
you see
i think its wherever you are
between childhood n adulthood
it weaves a spell upon ya
throws a glamour on ya dreams
somewhere inside me
is an eternal canberran adolescent
going round this world
looking outta my eyes
and going wow
and then
typing rants lika yessadays
can i come more cleen than that?
sk
happily ever after

monday morning fiendsss
snap to it
get in yer carr
drive to work
etc etc etc
ya know how i told ya i never werked
a day in my life…?
that doesnt mean i didnae have a job
yep i hadda job
in the public service
but i didnae work…
if only the real workers knew..
the guys in the factories
the policemen
the firemen
the truckies
the tradies
the bus drivers…

there is this vast body of pseuds
who turn up at their office every day
nothing really to do
nothing that matters anyway
i know cos i was there
i avoided doing any work
and so did most of the rest
public fucking servants
sittin around reading the gazette
cheating on their flexitime
having an extra day off every fortnight
sickleave
travel leave
blah blah blah leave
this lurk
that perk
if only they knew how easy these loafers got it
cmon lets have both barrels of yer vitriol
all you shiny bums sitting on yer fat asses
in some office block in canberra
dont come the raw prawn with me
i know you jerks are goofing off round the water cooler
having extended tea breaks
having 2 hour lunch times
borrowing the govt car to do yer shopping
and not just canberra
imagine
washington
ottawa
london
great legions of public servants
who knows what they do?
who cares?
i tell ya what fiendiess
i wassa a pub lick servant for nearly 5 years
tween the age of 19 to 24
believe me
yer average rockah does ten times the werk
of these lazy fat cats
embedded in the system
ya cant cant sack em
once theyre in
theyre like cold sores
ya cant kill em off
they just hang around
sucking on the system
they wanted to sack me
i was the laziest
i was the most rabble rousing layabout
i got there the latest
i went home the earliest
i spent my time and the govts money
writing poetry n lyrics
going out to hit the coffee shops
and import record shops
i flaunted my hedonistic snotty nosed attitude
and they couldnt even sack me
i smoked fuckin dope in the toilets
they still couldnt axe me…
just like politicians
theyve feathered their own little nests
empire building
getting more chairs n desks
filling in forms to order more staples n bulldog clips
making calls overseas w/ yer money
lookin at porno on govt computers
boozy friday lunchtimes
what a lazy corrupt buncha rogues
cmon
dont try and kid us any of ya are doing anything useful
you could sack 2 thirds of em
and theyd still be overstaffed
public servants
ha ha ha
goodbye
sk

sometimes when im doing yoga
or sometimes when i smell a perfume
go by in the crowd
sometimes when i hear a song
or onstage
or driving a car
i am whisked off
into the past
when i was not me
i wassa buncha other characters
but i experience it all again
as this wiser older sadder me
teenage years hot canberran summer nights
riding in my car with fernando
he played “rhythm” guitar
(but probably couldnt spell it)
he went to the catholic school
we smoked galaxy cigarettes
they were sawn off but they were the cheapest
fernando n others would go into
canberras only music shop
fernando would distract the owner
who was a real grumpy olde codger
unaware of the magical electric guitars
he had hanging up in his shoppe
and while he was asking mr t
some real stupid question
we would bury our heads
pen n paper in hand
to pilfer the chords out of his meagre catalog
of music books
fernando (excitedly)my brother got the chords
for rock round the clock!!!
me(disappointedly) oh wow….
but what about the rolling stones…?
fernando:no the olde manne caught em at it…
chased em all out of his shop..ha ha ha!
we’d all plug into my one amp
god no wonder my ears are so ruined..
ive been listening to other dudes
blast me since way back when
different guys would show up
on different weekends
one day a guy turned up with a lectric 12 string
a burns i believe
i swapped him for my bass for a few weeks
but in those days without a tuner
it was so hard to get it in tune
and it had a whammy bar(!?)
some times we jammed down in watson or dickson
at this guy mark tolleys who had a drumkit
he was a great lookin drummer blond prince val cut
flannel shirt levis n thongs
he predated curt kaboom by about 20 years
he also had an older sister who went out
with the bass player in one of canbras biggest bands
so this was all quite exciting and authentic stuff
to me
tho im sure our music was woeful
(3 17 year olds bashin thru rock round the fucking clock
for a whole sunday arvo is not my idea of fun
and i was a part of the racket)
someone stuck their head in the door and says
whos winning?
sometimes thered be 3 or 4 guitarists
n me
all in my one amp
all playing the same dreary thing
over n over
how i longed for some like minded compadres
who hated 12 bar blues and foghat and savoy brown
and wanted to do something a bit different
but these guys looked at music
the way they looked at footy
it was for men
by men
and should be mennish at all times
sensitvity or originality were frowned upon
back in those garage days
after a while i answered an ad in the paper
to join a 50-50 band
that played gigs and got paid(!!)
boy what a unimaginative bunch of ordinary turkeys
they hired me but i dont know why
they decreed that we should all wore these lilac
safari suits with crimson velvet bow ties
i was already writing songs but you think
these wallies coulda appreciated me back there n then
did they realise they hadda 18 year olde bouy genius?
like fuck they did
i was a thorn in their side
these guys were only like 21 22 themselves
but they seemed like grand dads to me
mind you
we made loadsa money for those days
yep i was sometimes making 150 bucks a week
believe me that was a lot in 1972
i hadda a car some equipment the lot
i remember one night asking the diminutive scottish
drummer called dave why he was so angry
you….you make me so fuckin angrrry
he hissed back over his drum kit
the singer was called ron
and he hadda nice voice actually
my mum n dad didnt mind when this group
borrowed the garage on satday arvo
ooh steven hes got such a nice voice son
joycie would say
he can arf bloody sing said my dad
but these guys hated me
why? you ask, good reader
not fully realising the nuisance
the 19 year olde sk could be
to “grown ups”
but boy
before they kicked my mischeivous ass
outta their tinpot groop
we played a lotta gigs
gigs in tiny little towns like gunning
captains flat (a ghost town, fiendss)
narooma on the coast
bungendore
we played at weddings
christmas parties
wests footy club on sunday nite
where our piece de resistance
was ghost riders in the sky
yippee yi aaaeeee
yippee yi ooo ooo
the crazed rugby players and their sloshed mates
galloping round the room
whooping and braying
you can imagine how i was enjoying that, fiendss
sometimes wed back female impersonaters
hotly debating if theyd had the snip or not
sometimes ron the hilarious jack the lad that he was
would slip in “rude” lyrics
like in black magic woman instead of
might pick up your magic stick
hed sing
might pick up my greasy prick
that kinda thing
still it hurt when i sensed they were plotting
against me
and i finally i was axed in the carpark
one freezing fucking night
while i loaded up my amp
we been rehearsing with another bass player
ron told me
trying to put it in more euphemistic terms
why? i asked puzzled, not understanding
he just kept looking at me and smiling
gradually the horrible truth sank in
id blown it
id pissed these idiots off enuff
and now i was out
no more mauve safari suit
no more gigs 5 nights a week
no more 50 bucks a gig
the fat lady had sung for me
it was the twilight of my 50-50 career
(50 percent oldies, 50 current)
i was washed up on the canberra caberet circuit
i retired back to the garage
to plot my revenge
my olde band got bigger n bigger on the circuit tho
everytime i heard their name blasted from a
community announcement
saga playing tonite at the polish club
i would think dark thoughts
my resolve would be supercharged
i will form a band
that will obliterate all those
who doubted my true genius
i will eclipse all of their careers
i will form the cchhru
and baybee
we will ROCK!!!
sk
sunday 20something of april o6
bondi beach, nsw
2026

im sitting here drinking carmel pure grape juice
muscat
made in israel
mmm
oh whatta smooth drop
yer humble hero been drinkin grape juice
whenever he could find it for 30 odd years now
lloyds in australia do a wonderful grape juice
all the flavours all the grapes
sultana greenache muscatelle etc
you can feel the grape juice hit yer system
you can feel the body gobble it up
the immune system : i’ll have a bitta that
itll help against the streptococci in sector 5
the stomach : ah a lovely lining
the tongue : such delicious sweetness
the throat : oooh soothing
the larynx : divine lubrication
the skin :oh nice, i can repair that little rough bit
the etc : blah blah blah
whatta waste they turn it into wine
all that lovely grape juice…..

some hilarious reviews of ultc
a bloke to wife as he holds cd unopened:
this is me at my happiest
then halfway thru:
lets go for a walk

that i feel shows the true nature of disappointment
so much more eloquently than a thousand nme reviewers
furtively scribbling armed with their thesaurii
lets go for a walk…
from now on that will be my phrase
when something is a little dodgy or bodgy
or wanky skanky loada hanky panky
i heard sebastian rockstarrs new album
how was it?
lets go for a walk
saw the new harrer potty movie
yeah?
lgfaw

folks, as a diss its a winner
so the dude so happy
(at his happiest, no less)
he struggles to get the cellophane of the cd
(he is now approaching the peak of his joy)
he sticks ultc in player
(all down hill from here)
“i wassa downa inna city onna mirahkell streat”
(regret sets in)
the openin riff of unifried feeled blasts
(sadness a feeling of being tricked)
“i needa space kneadle baybee”
(disappointment hardens on his dreams)
“jussa lika the trype that they sell ya”
(exactly he thinks to himself)
“eeeezzzzy bay beee blah blah blah blah blah”
(lets go for a walk)
but harold thats by the hcruhc
theyre ya favorit band in da whirld
i said lets go for a walk doris
but harold you waited a year to get that cd
and it sounds just like all the others so why..?
doris i said lets go for a fucking walk!
but harold…
I SAID A FUCKING WALK!!!!!

we need more badde reviews like this
less of the he cant sing and the lyrics dont make sense
(and…?)
more visceral physical stuff
eg
when i heard the opening note of this record
so sickened by it was i
that i tore it from the player
and ground it to silver dust
against my kitchen floor
i have , however
loved all their previous work.
or
the music on this record
causes birth defects in lab rats

oh by the way
we gotta good review in the english sun
4 stars
saying we’re too goode for the h. polloi
oh our curse
of being too goode
too fast for you baybee
its a high n lonely destiny
being the worlds forgotten (olde) boy
being the best
but most uncredited
i mean we get reviews like
yeah the church are great heres another great record..next?
good band, work hard, f

well if ya thought the hcruhc were obleek
mimesis is finally finished
a double album of atmospheres
dark beautiful music
words from dreams
ebbing flowing receding washing
coming on again
stronger stranger
music so full of sound
hidden things
things fizzing and squirming
falling and shivering
distant contraltos wailing
pianos crashing thru icy surfaces
double bass deep in the earth
the stories like life
that dont lead anywhere
you think
all things in a circle
all opposites reconciled and drowned
in each other
black n white become pains grey
(thats a painting pun)
anyway mimesis art imitating life
its fucking brilliant
and if any smarmy little bastard
gives it a slightly badde review
i’ll be donning my bricklayer gear
and coming round yer house
and bricking yer fucking door up!
doris: oh ya got that mimesis cd at borders harold
harold:yes im most happy before i put it on
doris:oh do lets hear it dear
mimesis comes on
(a gorgeous distant drone w/lovely tinkly sounds
sk begins to intone “a long and deserved holiday..”
harold:lets go for a walk
doris:but steve kilbeys bricked up our fuckin’doors!
anyway fiendss
its saturday morning here
im gonna go out n have me some ye olde funne
visit the markets
score some tat
do my block
blow a bundle
bit by bit
thanks for your attendance
sk

nothing is real
all is in flux
everything is happening at once
i invented time so you could understand that.
music comes to me unasked
words fill up my head
i sip my nepenthe
the ichor in me rises
i begin to vibrate
i feel the hands of the muses
and the fates
each with their equal claim
music comes to me unmasked
it stands naked in my fingertips
it will slip unclothed into your void
in to your emptiness i thrust my music
for safekeeping
like a long walk through the snow
like a night under a lake
beneath the surface tension
of our little society and its rules
you will have my music
to keep you company
to endure the lonely watch of wee small hours
in your triumph and your shame
music will take you home
music will draw your bath
the sound of my singing voice
will hold you in place
will hold you up
when your velocity falters
like little children
songs enter the world
hang around for a while
grow up and move on
in the glorious spring of our masters eternal youth
music will lead you over hills
through the woods
the elementals
the spirits of the trees
music oozing out of this earth
unbidden music
strange music
make mine strange and weird
my music that tries to envelope you
my music youve never heard
the music i keep for my self
the stuff that would break your heart
the notes that fall like tears
the words that are too much to bear
the songs you know are but a shadow
of the secret music
that undresses and caresses you
and leaves you sleepy and unsatiated
the music that borrows a thousand crowns
and never repays them
the music that was made illegal in new north wales
and kingsland
the music that was heavily censored by the romans
the music that jesus whistled when he was a boy
the music that was the last thing dad played
on his piano before he died
the music that i heard deep in the ground
the music that bees hear in the flower
the music vishnu dreams as he sleeps

dip your fingers in the cold current
you sit on the prow of our small boat
as we glide through these underground caverns
take up your instrument and sing
as i row row row my boat
gently down the stream