The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

i feel betrayed
i feel lost
i think about my blogge
that got sent to magnetic heaven
my poor unknown unloved blogge
that i laboured over with love

fiendss i hadda nice nite lassa nite
i took a cab over to sunny newtown
with george the wurldss brainiest cab driver
hes fuckin’ discussin’ the subtext n semantics of rocknpop
w/me
and its apparent influence on left or boho pollytics
oh yeah
olde sk enjoys this stuff a lot more
than
hot enuff for ya?
or
how about those fuckin’ roosters?
george is one of those guys
who you gotta ask
why the hell is a intellectual giant like this
droppin off guys at the casino in a cab?
george you always gonna be mah driver
in the nite time
(glenny havin the solemn honour of daytimes)
these kinda guys make traffic jams fun
in fact i got into such a heated debait
about something
that i was surprised when i finally realised
that i wassa sposed to be going somewhere
and that i’d actually arrived (baybee)
anyway
i was at the vanguard
where i did a soundcheck for hi fi mike
cos i wassa gonna singa coupla songas thatta nite-ah
great songs
the long way home
and
a new one
i only did the words for
the nite before
great music
sorta euro dancey trancey nancy blah blah bjorky stuffy stuff
i dunno
i hate labelling stuff
cos i hate it when they try to do it to me
what the fuck am i n the chchru?
ive had
mope rock
indy rock
alternative rock
pscychedelic rock
paisley underground(puh-leeze!)
any way hi fi is a cool dude
the whole album is great
buy one cos i’m on there, fer sure
but im shore ya gonna dig the whole cd.
after soundcheck
i went down to arch boheemian artiste n culture vulture
davey c n his loverly wife jeonga c (she from silver korea)
hes made this horrific horror film
it must be excellent cos i can hardly bear to watch
its making my flesh crawl
it is a brilliant film, thats fer sure
but i donna lika feeling this feeling too much
sort of anxiety as soon as it begins
total suspension of disbelief
(or even dat belief)
im also gonna be doing the soundtrack
and its gonna bee nasty
(i hope)
not necessarily my cuppa tee
but i can do it
and i sometimes like too
now dc and jc
theyre pretty arty filmy types
live in a warehouse in gothsville
hes seen more arthouse movies
than youve had hot dinners etc etc
i wondering to myself how could he have escaped my blogge
so long
so there ya go d and j
you boheemian hipsters have finally been recognised
but remember
ya start out hip
you end up hip replacement
thats the way it is

anyway we had vegetarian vietnamese
delishus
we smoked some jazz cigarettes
we hit the vanguard
(naughty old sk had a double red bull n voddy)
i met the other luminaries
who were guestsingers like me
inge liljestrom
connie mitchell
and a guy called iota
who tim po. has just produced
who has a very mellifluous voice
he came onstage in a black long dress
fishnet long gloves n stockings
a big pair of boots
a fur collared jacket
and a lovely red velvet hat
(i think my auntie doris had one like that
at russells christening in 1963)
but
the dude can sing
i was pretty goode i guess
(as per fuckin’ usual)
the clapped
i said goodbye
bade my fond adieus to dc n jc
fled home
n
here i am today
i love ya
sk

i wrote a really long and involved blog
for you today
and as it was publishing it
the system went down
and i lost it
and it aint anywhere anymore
and i feelso bloody sad that that happened
another second sooner mighta been ok
an hour down the drain
its all gone
sorry
bye
ps eks op now tuesday nxt week
sk

strange days indeed
isolated in our heads
like ants deep in the earth
we assume everything
we know nothing
we stumble on fragments
we shout
look
now we know everything
we measure
we assign dimensions
we gauge value
we assess meanings
we search n search for a truth
already discovered
we dig in the dirt
next to a towering diamond
we kill the creatures who are us
in disguise
we cause and we become the cause
wickedness flaunting itself, as usual
same as its ever been
we cry out
how can god permit this?
we are swallowed by the years
traceless we go under
down n round
round n down
we determine meaninglessness as the prime
completely fucking blind
to the ballet of the clouds
the symphonies of the birds
the paintings of the forests
the drama of the seasons
you want meaninglessness
you get meaninglessness
and you get wickedness
science as uncontrollable anxiety
as bill nelson said in futurist manifesto
medicine races along side
half right, half wrong
just like all the religion
like a thousand little angels
on the point of a pin
theres no point in describing
the place that theyre in
like a filigree diamond
filched from a ring…

it isnt what youd thought itd be
we cant imagine what it really is
after all
after all that

you need to be constantly conscious
where?
aware!
look at it all carefully
watch yourself
what are ya doing?
why are ya doing it?
challenge the assumptions
demand the fuckin’ miraculous
but go easy on em
at the same time
hiss at the villains
if you like
remember god
imitate christ
do yer best
man
its so simple
it takes so long
we need it so bad
insist on the stuff
thats had love put into it
thats what ya pay the big bucks for, fiendss
the love
and you thought it was for free?
everything contradicts everything
its a gordian knot
cut thru the ritual
call a fucking spade a spade
if we all did that we wouldnt have to bear
the great weight of loveless mediocrity
suffocating us

im playing with el laney tonito
strandgatan baybee
well
thats enuff for today
i love you
sk

imagine all space is within your head
imagine you contain me
imagine that my memories are yours
its easy if you try

one winter in early eighties
during a break in incessant touring
i wake up in rozelle
i guess russell is still asleep in his room
i have a pile….,
nay
a mountain of shirts
that sits in the middle of my room
this mountain is the fruit of my travels
round the obscure n remote op shops
of olde australia
the chchru drivin up n down the east coast
these bouys never bypass an odd town
nope, the make a (kil)beeline for it
raid the op shops
the st vinnie de pauls
the salvation army
the catholic ladies guild of kempsey shop
wherever a great shirt might lurk
there we were
often actually fighting each other
running in shops to be the first
to get the shirt
so there was at least 100 shirts
velvet
corduroy
paisley
floral
polka dotted
tab collared
button down
so i choose a shirt from the pile
a pink n purple floral number
pull on me everpresent black cord jeans (elephant)
pull on mah black suede boots
its kinda cold
i pull on my cord jacket as well
stumble down my stairs
last weeks gig at the tivoli still ringin’ in my ears
russell n friends last nite mix still in bowl
i donna minda if i do
(sound of a hippy wally smokin’ several bongs)
yeah thats better
(jesus, is it sposed to burn ya throat like that)
have my brekky
muesli n a hundred vitamin pills
and a cuppa tea
bongs kick in
mmm maybe another bowl of muesli or 2
need to hear my track of the moment
i always had a track i would play over n over
at full vol day n nite
they had been variously
my flamingo by nick kent and subterraneans
doot doot by freur
i am the cosmos by chris bell
back of my car by big star
this charming man by the smiths
ceremony n in a lonely place by new order
atmosphere by joy division
any way
todays track is hope by the mighty wah!
it goes on full volly
“you lied to me-ee i wish youd believe me”
the song does its trick
and i feel happy n sad all at once
russell staggers down stairs woken up by the racket
morning steven
he manages and disappears
into the shower
an ominous knock at the door
a dark shape i see outside
who could it be at this hour
i open my door
its markus
dressed in his customary black
tall gaunt n pale
like a cross between dirty harry n neil young n a ringwraith
with long black hair
and big yellow car his mother had dubbed
the marijuanamobile
he only spoke it cryptic whispers
almost inaudible for my ringin ears
wanna come up the coast steven
why not…
five minutes later im heading out of town
up to my friends hideout up in the hinterland
we drive thru early eighties sydney
the beautiful leafy suburbs on yer way north
markus is quite a character
totally anti-establishment
hes just waiting for some apocalypse
just round the corner
you better learn to use a shotgun n ride a horse
when all this is gone
he tells me
and we talk about all the guys who are
doing time for possession of one seed
or something preposterous
and he gets me all anxious
so we stop n refresh ourselves a little
we discuss conspiracy plots
the illuminati
jimi hendrix
finally we arrive at his little shack
hidden within a clump of trees
a little run down house
markus housemate is bill
a chinese guy with long black hair
who dont say nuthin
he makes markus seem boisterous
i get the grand tour
there are no, ahem, amenities
there is a trench
and near the trench in all their magnificent natural glory
half a dozen dope plants nod in the icy wind
and beyond that trip wires
which are connected to spear guns that fire a piece
of dowling on any who would trespass
the afternoon changes into a freezing cold night
it dont get this cold down in sydney
we all huddle round an open fire
markus stokes it n prods it
chucks on a few big logs
and soon we’re snugger than buggers in a rug
someone does a food run
mmm vegemite n toast n cups of tea
bill silently takes up his solemn job as bongmaster
and he jus’ keeps on handing it to me
and i just keep on smokin’
afraid i might appear rude if i decline
the wind n rain batter at the roof n windows
markus bill n i
silent in this fire illuminated room
only the crackle n grind of the wood
and the softly billowing smoke
i enter some eternity
this night is stretched out forever n ever
i am still there
somehow

love
sk

sitting here in a new caf
right across from the pacific ocean
a not so balmy afternoon
here on the eastern coast of australia
winter winter winter
oh youve been a servant of the evil one
i hate autumn n winter
maybe thats cos im in the winter n autumn
of my life
the cold cuts thru to mah bone
the wind rips me open
and my songs escape
the sea is dark blue
about as inviting as funeral parlour
whitecapped and turbulent
it hurls sandfilled waves
at the shore
the sky is filled with racing clouds
every now n then
the sun breaks thru
it still burns
and itll still burn ya
no matter how cold it gets
the place is quite deserted
the tourists musta fled
real fairweather friends i guess
marty arrives
i guess hes gonna do the books
or something
he berates me for my one finger typing
he says hes got something to run by me
i gotta finish typing this tho
i dunno where i was going now
the cold wind keeps blowing
id guess youd call this cafe the opposite of stuffy
kinda like onetime
when i checked into my hotelroom
in nowheresville usa
i walked into my room
hmmm
something different here
tho not immediately apparent
its very cold n fresh in here tho
must turn off ac
gee the windows are clean tho…
the windows….
hey hang on
(approaches windows and feels that there aint no windows)
exclaims
there aint no fucking windows in my room
ah…
but the air was fresh
and it was very quiet
sooner or later
if you stay around longa nuff
everything will happen to ya
even getting a hotel room
with no windows
it aint all glammer my fiendss
it aint all dancing on clouds
nevermind all that
a new season has come to bondi
summer is over
thanks for your lovely love
sk