The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

fiendss
im gonna confess
im a little sad and beaten at the moment
my back has locked up
right between the shoulder blades
and im an agony ant
my back IS 2 beasts
hey i thought yoga wassa sposed to make me immune from this
its gone from a throbbing ache to stabbing pain
yeah yeah
im gonna see my acupuncturist tomorrow
thatll fix it fer sure
i know
acupuncture is amazing stuff
it can reach stuff that the other methods cant seem to touch
ya know
i mustnt complain too much
ive hadda relatively pain free life
except for a couple of things
like ten years on the olde gear
and my broken and rebroken arm
my back has occaisionally played up
but i know a few olde fellahs like me
who got it permanent
i remember one day when i was 18
my dad said to me
“you dont think that you’ll ever be 50 , do ya”
and you know what fiendss?
i really didnt
i thought i’d be 18 forever
i wouldnt fritter away the years like my dad
i wassa gonna be an eternal teenager!
anyway
if youre young
and youre not looking after yerself
may i humbly suggest that you start
cos a bad back
or a fucked knee
is gonna slow ya right down
take the wind right outta yer sails
anyway
one thing to avoid is the gear
do what you like
but dont get on the gear
it wont make you a romantic aesthete
itll make you a whining imbecile
it aint glamourous
it aint fun
it aint worth it
i…..
for me it was a jail sentence
10 years of hard misery
yeah
i lost my possessions
that was the easy part
but its like being possessed in itself
an evil spirit took up residence in my soul
and whispered its bile in my ears for ten years
forget all that lou reed and keef richards stuff
those guys had a lot more money than you or me
plus
sooner or later
youll wind up in rehab
or jail
or
a coffin
i did the first 2
and i aint anxious to try the 3rd
and when i do
it aint gonna be smack that lays me out!
i hear a lotta bullshit about the gear
no one knows what the fuck its really all about
except us ex junkies
and all we can say is
dont fool with it!
the western govts headed by the u.s.a
have made this stuff some kind
of unmentionable evil horror
surrounded it in illegality and prisons
and in their typical fashion
made the whole thing a million times worse
than it had to be
ya see folks
once a ponna time
all drugs were legal
in 1870 you could enter anywhere ya liked
pockets full of dope
nobody fucking cared
then someone in the states in the early part of the 1900s
realised if ya made drugs illegal
you could disenfranchise the blacks and the poor
and get em back under the govts control
why are drugs illegal?
why is there a war on drugs?
because there so bad for ya?
cos heroin is such a killer?
ha ha
you buy that?
fiendss theres a billion things you can do
that are worse for ya than smack
and there all legal
war, for one
what if they made drugs legal
and war illegal
what if the word war
was met with the same horror
as the word narcotic?
cmon
they dont give a toss about ya
drugs are illegal to control ya
not to protect ya
ciga-fucking-rettes have killed more people this month
than smack has killed in its entire history
but ya can cop a pack of cigs anywhere
and frankly fiendss
i’d rather o.d.
than die of cancer or emphysema

just remember
the govt has not made drugs illegal to protect ya
if so
why is pot illegal
they even recently hadda huge inquiry into it in the states
the govt gives money to scientists
doctors
“please come up with somethin’ badde on pot”
they couldnt
the “anti-motivational” syndrome
yeah, like, um
i dont wanna die in yer fucking war
or
i dont wanna be a “straight” and have a “job”
any way these scientists come back and say
“although pot is bad for yer lungs
(any smoke is)
it appears it actually contains many anti-carcinogens
that actually have tumour deactivating properties

i bet all those guys lost their job!!
its all a fucking lie
the whole drugs thing
they dont want ya to change yer conciousness
unless with alcohol
cos thats what they use
and thatll keep ya nice n quiet n
(unless ya beating yer wife or getting in brawls)
and drinkers aint usually thinkers
but folks taking pot or hallucinogens
theyre a different kettle of flying fish
they dont buy that fucking war so easy
they dont believe in the 1950s and cold wars
and witch trials
and nuclear bombs and smart bombs
and collateral damage

the olde western alpha male style governments
were so concerned about the plight of the junky
they gave em methodone
oh whatta nice safe name
methodode
its got method in it
the govts helping us, right?
oh yeah
methodone
formerly adolphine
invented in germany in ww2 during a morphine shortage
now fiendss
i been on methodone too
and let me tell ya
i’d rather get over 100 heroin habits
than one methodone
if you wanna feel bloated empty and depressed
if you wanna be hooked forever
on a synthetic poison doled out by the govt
that ya can never ever stop
methodones yer drug
jims on heroin
OH NO
its ok, now hes on a methodone “programme”
oh, thats good
hes making progress
god blees america and methodone
ha ha

if i tell ya to stay away from smack
stay away from methodone 100fold
itll make ya live a half life

now just think
all that crime
all that misery
all that suffering
that drugs cause
and most of it caused by its illegality
and punishment
it doesnt have to be like that
look at holland and switzerland
yeah yeah i know they had their problems
this is no easy thing we talk of here
like looking after the aged
or any other social issue
theres no easy fix
but treating drug takers as humans is a good start
why lock up junkies and potsmokers
what possible fucking goode can that do
fiendss the moment i was in jail in nyc
there were guys selling every drug under the sun
making connections
consolidating their “criminality”
how can guns be legal and drugs illegal
would ya rather a drug user
or a gun enthusiast move in next door
do guns kill more people than drugs?
are guns more dangerous than drugs?
theyve somehow brainwashed ya into thinking
that drugs are “un-american”
but guns are yer birthright
ya know gw bush was a coke fiend
even possibly a dealer
oh but thats ok
hes now born again
the man who leads the free world
is a certified drunk driving
coke snorting
draft dodging
cowardly s.o.b.
who says his most proud moment of the last 6 years
was catching a big perch in his own lake
yet he is the 1st thing ya see
when ya arrive in la
and they start searching ya fer drugs
now that i gotta little record
they always take me apart
treat me like a fucking crim
when the guy whos a 1000 times worse than me
looks down from the wallk with his idiot half grin

but no one can even attempt the legalisation of drugs
such is the mc carthyesque hysteria surrounding the subject
eg
the a.c.t. was gonna have a trial heroin programme
instead of methodone
they were gonna give a small number of addicts heroin
just to see….
just in case…..
like i switzerland where they find that
people given the gear in clinics
stop stealing pawning etc
and return into society
and manage their lives
surprise surprise!
but when australia had the gall to try this plan
on a small scale within its own borders
the u.s. objected
theyd do this n that
they wouldnt buy our morphine…
why?
why should they fucking care
if some canberran junkies got some govt smack?
why indeed?
cos its so badde for ya?
ha!
cos the stuff is inherently evil?
ha!
so they could maintain their hegemony?
yes

cmon
heroin is a bad deal
we all agree on that
you aint ever been thru anything like a major narcotics detox
or have ya
you wont believe that life can be so hellish
and yes
it was all my own fault
i aint asking for any sympathy here
but the current treatment of addicts
and the western attitude to drugs is a farce
i remember in sweden in the paper one day
i saw a guy who murdered a kid get less time in jail
than an exstacy importer
whod ya rather have next door fiendss
an ex dealer or a kid murderer?

i know im reducing it to simplistic terms

just dont believe everything they tell ya
question their motives
and ok heroin is nasty stuff
but why the fuck is pot illegal
they try to tell ya its intrinsically evil
like god would put a “bad” plant on this earth
but did ya know
that there is a receptor in yer brain
that will forever remain inactive
unlessit encounters thc
now thats gotta mean something
we were meant to smoke the herb
maybe not as much as i do
but its part of being a human
its a potential you can explore if you want to
what you do with yer brain is your business
no body should be able to boss ya round
if ya feel the need to alter yer consciousness

they got ya fooled
theyre manipulating ya
take their drugs
valium
we know that fucks ya
methodone
we know that fucks ya
alcohol
we know that fucks ya
sleeping pills
we know that fucks ya
hmmm pot, acid, mushrooms, hmm
we cant seem to see what they do….
maybe theyre bad for ya
but we aint found any hard proof yet…
ok THOSE substances should be illegal
for yer own goode
the nice olde govt is protecting ya from yerself
thanks guys
now im drug free
i can go to iraq
and be a useful cog in yer machinery
gulf war syndrome…
no problems
we got some goode govt drugs for that
(fiendss, the other day i met a little boy
covered in eczema, 3 years old,
diagnosed as inherited from his grandfathers
(an australian soldier in vietnams)
exposure to agent fucking orange
horray for the goode guys
hooray for l b j and bob menzies)
yes the sins of the grandfathers are visited
on the children
you trust these mo fos, fiendss?
you believe anything they tell ya?
you wanna tell that little suppurating oozing scratching kid
about the fucking domino theory
and communists and caterpillars?
cmon
surely smokin dope is the least of any ones worries
this world is a joke
we are the punchline

a war on drugs?
as will self said
you might as well have a war on tables

grantley, im still missin’ ya
when will this stop?
sk

morning fiends
how are ya?
obviously im still pretty broken up bout grant
and all those regretful things that happen
when someone you love dies
like something i didnt tell ya
after grant and i were reconciled last year
a couple of weeks later
grant called…
hi steven, im down here in sydney
oh dear not a good time for me grant…
i gotta do this…
i gotta do that….
but ah, thanks fer callin’
give us a ring tomorrow or something..
grant sounded sad
i knew he probably wouldnt call tomorrow
he hung up sadly…
ok steven, i’ll speak to ya soon…
and that was it
of course
now im not gonna beat myself up for it
how were either of us to know…?
i had other more important things to do…
(yeah, right….what was that…yoga? painting? shopping?)
i missed a last opportunity to hang out with my friend
people always ask me when i play in brissy
is grant coming?
will macca be here tonight?
“ah, i dunno…i didnt call him….maybe”
you see i thought i had all the time in the world
just like the last time i talked to my dad
“sure dad….i’ll catch up with ya later…im a little bizzy right now”
yeah procrastinate
hey we’re all gonna be around forever, right?
now i know that grant, wherever he is
understands and forgives

but ya see where im going with this, dont ya?
if theres someone ya love
and ya feuding…
fer god sake make it up NOW
dont put it off
ring em up
say
“lifes too short, i love ya, lets get together”
cos it could be them
it could be you..
be smart, my fiendss
call em now
whattya got to lose?

lassa nite i listen to snow job
the second frosties album
(grant always called us the frosties)
so different to that first album
the levity has faded somewhat
but with tim powles drumming
this one really rocks
if you do hear this youll notice i dont sing so much
my voice wassa pretty shot with drugs by then
and i was so uninspired i could hardly be bothered
but grant does a great job
and by christ
these songs fucking rock, baybee
listen to grants grreat guitar solos
a lotta pentup energy and raw emotion
he was a sensitive guy who could shake it!!
theres some beautiful songs here
i will no longer avoid this record
the aviatrix, a song about amelia earhardt (spelt wrongly?)
listen to the layers of guitars at the end as they peel off
before polinskis beautiful ambient section….
running from the body
we watched a doco on the mamas n papas
and we both identified with john phillips drug hell
and we were taken by their harmonies
we tried to incorporate those harmonies
intricate…
angela carter
a song about one of my fave authors
grant sings sorrowfully as hed known her personally

you dont know
i wrote the music
grant came up with the words and singing
“you dont know what life is
you dont know where life is taking you…”
sadly prophetic

empire
i love this song
once again i did the music
grant the singing
another message to ab?
“i just wanna know how long
ya gonna keep me locked outta yer empire?”
i just couldnt believe hed come up with lines like that
straight off the cuff
but that was his genius

weightless and wild
wow i actually sing this one
a lonesome fucked up song
“watch me run a crroked mile” i sing
while underneath grant sings
“youve lost the world”

haze
listen to the string of images at end
memories from grants early days
the country doctor going blind
i only just found out grants dad who died when grant
was very small
was a doctor

grant was haunted by his dead father
i guess he never met
i remember one night in new york when we were playing
grant came running into the dressing room
youll never guess whos here, steven?
who grant who?
he got a strange look in his eyes
“our fathers, steven, our fathers are here…”
mmm, i’ll never forget the way that made me feel
for a second i wanted to believe it…

that was grant
funny and sad at the same time
he wasnt a saint and he had some wicked putdowns
and sometimes he could seem a little snooty
he could nae abide swearing
nor did he like dirty jokes

i dunno
i dunno
i dunno
his funeral is on friday in brisbane
how am i gonna see lindy and amanda and robert
without completely losing my nonexistent composure
i dont wanna go to grants funeral
i wanna go up there
and see him appear
glass of red wine in his hand
grin on his face

grant was on the front page of the sydney morning herald yessaday
i KNOW that woulda given him a kick
just like i said once
youll become immortal on the day that ya die…

anyway ya gotta say he went out onna good one
he beat the chchur to win his aria award
(we beat streets of my town in89)
he had some money from his emi deal
he was doing pretty goode
i wish id come across him at “rics” in new farm, bris
drinking his ice teas and smoking his stuyvos
i’d wrap my arms around him
and say
grantley, i had the strangest dream…..

but now thats too late

if there is someone in yer life like that
let em know
sk

further thoughts on grant mclennan

i cant believe hes gone
in the weeks before this ive been doing some solo shows
i always play providence
but ive been doing ramble and thought that i was over you
and bye bye pride
amanda brown came to my last solo show at the icebergs
grant has a new song on the gb3 record (brilliant)
i been thinking about him in lotsa small ways
listening to jack frost
remembering olde times
grant wasnt some minor talent now gone
and everyone trying to make him into something more
believe me, he was the real deal
he picked up a guitar and sang
and you hadda original
no mistaking his voice, his songs
i saw on amazon they gotta few copies of the 1st jack f record
do yerselves a favour
if you aint got it, get it
im so proud of that record
the only record i made (other than solo)
that i actually hands on mixed myself
every hour god sends
a lament about the iraq invasion in 1990-1
thats me on verses, grant on choruses
i was horsing around in the studio
saying
“oh that grant, he works every hour that god sends, that man”
a standard lament i would hear as i was growing up
but grant turned it into a threat
everyhour god sends…some wings
everyhour godsends …some stones
all that wild electric guitar…thats grant
he wasnt always thomas hardy ya know
he could fuckin’ rock on the guitar
and
he wazza great bass player too
birdowner
when i first met him grant said he had
thousands of songtitles ready to go
i asked him for a couple
the first title he said was birdowner
we wrote this about a witch who turns men into birds
we wrote all the lyrics together
in a park in balmain one cold morning
on a bench smoking a spliff
civil war lament
grant had already written this
i loved it and i got to sing it
he could knock songs like this off
like most people write shopping lists
i liked the ambiguity of
“and all you do is carry on”
to grant this meant that she continued
to me it had other connotations
we thrived on this kinda ambiguity
geneva 4 am
again i sing the verses
grant takes the chorus
i guess no one will mind me saying now
that grant had amanda b in mind when he
wrote his bits for most of these songs
he always seemed to get it back round to her
i was imagining a bunch of lowlifes round a bar at an airport
grant turns it into pure longing
“i look for you everywhere
but i can find you anywhere”

trapeze boy
we had a little bit of tape left
we doodled and noodled on it
i said to grant
putta poem or story on there
he said i will
he did that first take
i, in the control room, was stunned
“funny how someone you never met, manages to stay with you”
yes , grant
a lotta people feel that way about you now

providence
one of my fave songs ever by anybody anywhere
obviously you can hear grants bits and my bits
so sad
so much sadness in this song
“remember when we were lovers, the things we used to do”
it always gives me goosebumps
so romantic,
so lost.

thought that i was over you
what can i say about this one?
everybodies felt like this
i dont think he did really ever get over her.

threshold
jack f gets funky
my music, grants lyrics n singing

number 11
grant n i imagined we were lost in a plane crash
i know you can keep me warm
beautiful, grant, beautiful

didnt know where i was
our 1st song we wrote together
sorta velvets-y i guess
” a damaged doomed charles bronson, stumbling on this earth”
who else could write stuff like that
boy, im gonna miss him

even as we speak
i wrote and played the music on my own
grant walked straight in
and sang it
and made the words up on the spot
how could he instantly come up with something so poignant?
his words always fitted the music so perfectly

ramble is my song
grant was showing me the chords to
streets of your town
i said lets get another song outta that
he played the electric guitar
and you can hear his distinctive
“its coming on again”
it was all coming on for him again
all the time

everything takes forever
our music
my verses
grants chorus
you can sing with accordions
you can sing with violins
we even put an oboe in there
just in case ya didnt completely get
who this song was addressed to

making this record wassa sheer delight
grant n i were equals in every way
he laughed at my gothic dark side
i laughed at his country boy romantic side
we steered a course right down the middle
pulled each other into a new place
this record is one of the best records ever made
you wont find more personal poignant love songs in rock
sweeping windswept landscapes
anger, jealousy, memories
grant was my dearest friend
a real gentleman
i wouldnt say so if it wasnt true
there was no one else on the planet
who i wanted to work with more
he taught me a lot about songs
and songwriting
it was a fucking privelege to work with him
i loved this man
i will play providence and other jack f songs
till the day i day
and i hope that when i get to fucking heaven
grant is waiting for me
his guitar strapped on
“now, steven, are ya ready for our third album

grant
i dont think i will get over you
vale
my dear dear dear mate
sk

good morning my darling fiendss
last nite i received some terrible news about a dear friend
as i havent confirmed it yet for myself
im hoping against hope that it isnt true
that theres been a mistake…
so i write todays blogge in that spirit…
i first met grant mc in a bookstore in new york
he and amanda b and bobby f. were playing a gobetweens gig there
so on a freezing cold december n.y.c. night replete with snow
i stumble into the blah blah bookshoppe
a real old style nyc bookshop, my little pigs
not a boreders or barnsey and knowable
i stand around for a while
i dont really know a lot about the gobees
they gotta lotta mora critical acklaim than us
and i’d kinda tuned em out
i’d filed em under too soft in the backa my mind
anyway they come on
(well…on, i mean they came out in the middle of the floor
on a tiny little stage)
there were about 60 people there
they were stupendous
the harmonies spot on
the acc guitars inventive
amandas fiddle incredible
they played a few songs
grinned sheepishly
and finished
the crowd loved em
and were stunned to see something like that
playin in a bookshop somewhere
later i met em
robert was kinda statesmanlike and seemed aristocratic
looking down at me with an imperious smile
amanda was nice
grant was different
he was vulnerable, thoughtful but he loved a laugh too
we talked of this n that
he went out of his way to make me feel at ease
and we both realised we could be friends easily
the next nite i saw em slay new york accousticall again
just the 3 of em
if you were there in the knitting factory, ny
dec 1988
like me
youd still be thinking about it
emotions i didnt really think rock could do
or could do without being soppy and maudlin
roberts distance and irony
his jokes at yours n his expense
grants open childlike strange songs
unashamedly australian
a sensitive new age bloke with unexpected darksides
a sweet melancholy voice
a gentle lovely guitar style
(but with rock)
they killed nyc
i was smitten
i got all the albums immediately
couldnt believe i’d been avoiding em so long
i liked both the songwriters
(they didnae write together)
they coexisted well within the one band
(like the you know whos)
about 2 years later in 1990
i gotta call from grant
after we met atta party one night
he hadda plan for forming an aust supergroop
featuring him, me, neil f, and paul k,
we never got the others really
tho we had lunch with paul ….
so grant n i formed a pared down soopergroop
jack f
(ha)
so i go over grants place for our first writing seshh
boy o boy he operates a lot differently to me
1st of all hes got all his songs
written out in one big exercise book
that he musta had since high school
he never really let me look at it
but i guess you woulda found cattlen cane
or bye bye pride
or anything in there
i thought that was quaint
he was a strumm em out type writer
not like me..
constructing stuff in my 8 track home studio
anyway
he then proceeded to play 10 new songs to me live
each one preceded by a preamble
explaining whatta “beautiful” song it was, steven
(always called me steven,never steve)
he finished with a song about jesus called
“the man that died in rapture”
he sang this most lamenting melancholy achingly lovely song
all with his trademark off in the distance look
his eyes slightly unaligned that made him seem unfathomable
his soft voice filling up the sunroom of his bondi junction flat
so please dont forget…the man who died in rapture
i was moved and surprised
i felt like i’d seen a man bare his soul
grant finished
good lord grant that was amazing..are you a christian..
no he says
i wrote that for a competition..
eventually that day
i was allowed to pick up my 12 string
and we immediately on 1st chord
wrote didnt know where i was
off jack f.
grant seemed to have a way of opening up his mouth
and singing instant choruses
hed plucked outta the ether
words flew to him
he walk with melodies at his beck n call
we wrote a few more that day
then we started having days where we would write
20 or 30 songs inna day
all of em great
they were all on cassettes
where are they?
who knows
we werent that careful with em
we couldnt believe we could keep on writing and writing and writing
i never wrote songs like this before
me n another bloke strumming along
i rented a house in surry hills
and me n grant would just walk around strummin and writin all day
laughing because it was so easy, baybee
we did the first jack f in a studio in balmain
that was bit by bit being repossessed
cos they hadnt paid the bills
we’d be halfway thru a song
and someone would be carting the limiters away
we didnt care
we were high on our creativity and our record
it was interesting to see grant working my way
constructing songs..
if ya listen to the record
you can hear the constructed ones and the 2 guitar strum ones
grant loved a drink and a smoke
and by the end of each night he was on fine form
never drunk or boorish
but always merry and mischievous
tho sometimes hed sink into a distant melancholia
where he couldnt be reached
hed split up with miss a.b. by this stage
and a lotta those songs carry a genuine ache
that is tangible
grant n i wrote and played the whole thing together
a real 50 50 deal if ever there was one
i brought my recording techniques and song strategies
he brought his melodies and lightness
the record is a masterpiece
it did pretty good
arista even released it
and we did a short tour of the states
just acc guitars n little places
grant taught me so much about everything
he was a great guy to be on tour with
i think the audiences liked it
at the same time grant was working on watershed
which i heartily recommend
for sad lonesome songs
as well as his colloquial stuff

years later we did the second jack f
this was recorded as a band with timmy p. playing drums
a totally different record
much had changed in the between years
my little problem was now a huge gorilla
pushing me around all over the place
i wassa innercity drug hermit
grant was never as bad as me
tho he was plagued with his own daemons too
the record captures the roiling boiling turmoil
of those days
i can hardly bear to listen to it myself
its agony is apparent
but it bleeds for you
and its a great falling apart record
a la sister/lovers…
tho it wasnt a pleasant experience..
we did a little tour of aust when it came out
that would be best forgotten
grant and i sometimes popped up
at each others shows
but our connexion was gone
and we drifted apart
in 1998 i saw em play in stockholm, grant n robert
just the 2 of em
the swedes were in love with em
they were better n funnier than ever
we hung out a little
grant never seemed to eat anything!
but always the constant coffee, wine and stuyvesant ciggies
after that
years of silence
a couple of years ago
ian haug from powderfinger gave me grants number n said
you should ring him….why not?
i did
and we met up here in bondi
when he was down doing something for the new gobees record
oceans apart
he played me 2 tracks
i played him block
oh steven, its a little too….autobiographical isnt it? he winced n grinned
we went down the pavillion where i had a veggie burger n chips
grant had coffee and cigs
we talked about the gobees, a.b., jack f, all the cool dudes
and all the fucking idiots we had met in our travels
at the end of lunch grant came and picked up my kids and met nk
he caught a taxi off to his next interview
and i felt well pleased
maybe there could be 3rd jack f record after all…
one of australias most beautiful singers and writers
an amazing human being
a poet, bohemian, adventurer
raconteur and nice guy too
grant, i hope it was just a rumour…
steven

kilbey here….
steve kilbey….
0007
license to blogge
7 17 on satday morn
all the gurls in my little house are fast asleep
was nk’s birthday yessaday
we had cakey and stuff
presents
happy birthday dear duckling happy birthday to you
me and aurora went shopping
i say to aurora howcome evie didnt wanna come with us..?
she says
(in a jimmy stewart accent)
well dad, ya know how me an evie are fraternal twins..?
uh huh
well ah…ya know how we’re different on the outside..?
yep!
well we’re different on the inside too…i dunno why shes like that
i see
i aint no mind reader, dad
ok
we get up to the biggest shopping mall in the southern hemisfear
(so they say)
auroras picking up everything
hey dad buy her this!
hey dad buy her that!
you know fiendss
i can do 2 ks in the pool no problem
not tired..
but 5 minutes in a shopping mall
and im completely fucking knackered
what is it with that?
i hate shopping
i hate buying stuff
i hate the fluoro lights and the rush
of teenyboppers armed with mummys credit card
i hate the bullshit when ya buy jeans..
me: these are too small
dopey shop asst.: sir, theyll stretch
me: these are too big
dsa: sir, theyll shrink..
mmm, ive always hadda thing about jeans
you see there wassa kid at my school
he was like the dictator of fashion
he was like trip fontaine if ya saw the virgin suicides
this kid, neal g.
he wassa the bees knees
he was handsome
good at sport
good fighter
he was smoking pot and liasing with girls
when the rest of us were still playing marbles
(i will resist the impulse for any naughty puns here)
he always looked great even in school uniform
tousled hair, tanned complexion, big smile
oh i wanted neal g to like me
think i was cool
but all i usually got was a
“what are ya, kilbey?”
now it may seem hard to believe but up until about 15
i thought jeans were jeans were jeans
but one day i come to school
and neals talking about levi-strauss
ya gotta have levi-strauss
not these horrible old jeans ya been wearing
i hit up my dad
dad, i need levi-strauss
i bought you some jeans a cuppla weeks ago son
but dad, i need 1o bucks for levi-strauss
(thats what they cost in 1970)
ok ok but this is it
now sooner had i got my l-s
(which fitted me atrociously, there was no boot cut etc etc
in those days , just this jodphur looking baggy things
that hung off my skinny frame ludicrously)
then neal g says
ah kilbey, levis are last years thing
ya gotta have lee jeans
uh oh
same process
dad…?
but son…?
i know dad…but..
ok ok but this is it
wow
i get a pair of lees
(hardly much different to the l-s
but what the hell)
same thing
neal g says lee?
no mate, ya gotta have lee cooper jeans
what?
dad?
yes son…
please…?
ok but this is it
ok, dad
by the way son, who tells you whats in and whats out?
never mind dad, ya wouldnae understand
ok ok heres 15 bucks…
so i get me a pair of pink lee cooper cords
but lo n behold
neal g the fashionista
wrangler are the only hip jeans
oh no
dad?
yes son
blah blah blah
ok
got me a pair of wrangler jeans
phew
im sorted
school social
got my wranglers
hip and cool
but whats this…?
oh no
a new boy at our school
has the last word in hip
a pair of bearcat jeans
fucking bearcat?
my wranglers are instantly passe
im a fashion disaster
next day i try to find a pair of bearcats
not in canberra i dont
after a little research i find out
you can only buy bearcat jeans in one shop in australia
and its in melbourne 600 miles away
and
they cost 22 bucks a pair
unheard of in those days
dad?
yes slim
(my dad always called me slim
i dunno why but he thought it was funny)
why dont we visit the rellies in melbourne?
you want to?
wow
i nagged my dad into driving to melb
ostensibly to visit uncle cyril and aunty eve
(who i named my daughter after)
when we get there
i track down the shop
borrow 22 bucks from my poor dad
and get down there
they only got one pair thatll fit me
a little on the smallish side
“nah, theyll never shrink
theyre pre shrunk !”
says shop asst.
get back to canberra
teenage dance soon
i’ll be unveiling my bearcats
how can anyone out trump me now
but
(you knew thered be a but)
joycie gives em a good wash for me
before the dance
oh no!
when i try em on
theyve shrunk half way up my leg
miserably i wear them anyway
hoping no one ll notice
but they do
“hey kilbey
why dont yer shoes have a party and
invite yer pants down ???”

oh the shame
oh the embarrassment
eventually i cut em off for shorts

these are the events that shaped my life
i love you fiendss
(pssst. wanna pair of cut off bearcat jeanss??)
sk

losing face with yer data base
what does that mean…?
hmmm..
sometimes i catch myself saying the darndest things
when i say this world and human society are absurd
i say it not from a position of superiority
but of wonder…..
mornings that come in the future
finding that im now absent
gone from our plans
sidetracks leading here n there
oh i just spent a decade up this petered out dead end
i was looking for something
that was so important then
but now seems so very hard to remember
why i thought it all meant so much
all things put together must come apart
that is a law of this universe
dont come crying to me anymore
by the time i return youll probably be gone
its a revolving door, aint it?
struggle all ya like
its surrender that you need
oohh sweet surrender
like learning to swim
you gotta trust that water to hold ya up
if you dont believe, down you go
to davy jones and mike nesmiths locker
are you still with me here, fiend
give in
its all over
believe in the water
believe in yerself
forget yerself too
thats right
thats what i said
get together
bake some bread
do what you like
thats what i said
maybe impressionism will help…….
insert own ism here
in those future mornings
replete with soft filtered sunlight
in the observatory
the gardens in the distance
fortunate sons
but i digress…

who was that person i saw you with?
the one in the cloak o invisibility and the ten league boots
the reason i ask is this:
one hundred years ago in a distant land
quite close to here
there lived a man
who dreamed that he was in a story
typed onto a computer in the year dot
if that could have had futuristic jollies attached
but nay, little pig
alas, this was not the case.
presently along came sir dennis swyne-bott
a big wig
AND
a vip
AND
a 4 wheel drive w/ own carpark
(on top of sacred ground, natch)
he immediately timelined a great scenario
which was lifestyle-enhancing and $$$friendly
as well as serene and convenient
which involved one years free trial offer
and a broken digital camera
“it doesnt work” said sir dennis’ secretary
as you scramble for a piece
an online dating service redirects you to an abandoned warehouse
on the outskirts of town
from here you can see for miles and miles
you blow the dust from the furniture
light a cigarette
hand on gun
billy franklin appears
and he wastes ya!
you go under screaming
you cant believe this is the end
franklin stands over ya grinning
blowing the smoke from his gun like a cowbouy
death is indescribible
what did you expect?
swyne-bott was behind it all, all along
the monopoly owns us all
the ship pulls out
the portal closes
cue music
film by the cchhru
the end

1st of all
why aint this goode blogge ever in the bloggs of note column?
ya see if ya come in the way i do
via the blogger.com/start thingy
theres like a chart
blogs o note
ive never been on there
why
why?
WHY?
theres always a readymade index to measure yerself
in the shiny bums you had your rank
im a 5 4th division
im a 8 3rd division
hes a 1 in the second division
in the musick bizz you got yer charts
and now
yer got yer blogchart
blogs of note
and just like all those other indices
i never rate
i want a position!
i wanna be on that ladder
getting a rating
i want my transactions approved by my financial institution
i want my name in the book
i wanna appear on a list
i want honours
knighthoods
(cmon if jagger why not mee?)
i wanna weild my influence
show my clout
muscle in
have my # on the V I Ps speed dial
i deserve this much
dont i?
god…….
maybe i dont…
maybe i am just an obscure needle in the haystack
pricking against the kicks
maybe no one cares
maybe its just russell pretending to make all the comments
and fudging mah ratings to make it seem like
somebodies out there……
god….
what if….
i…
am alone
raving to myself here day after day
all this love i put into my blogge
and no one….
nothing…..
no body…
never

anyway to my hypothetical fiendss
i been thinkin about art lately
art n entertainment
the difference
why john lennon makes me wanna cry
and why robbie willy-ams makes me wanna cry
and why henri rousseau makes me laugh
and why the turkey that won last years big portrait prize
makes me wanna laugh too
why do i so vehemently hate entertainment
specially anything to do with u.s. sitcom
copsnrobbers
(and ya know what ..? some of the pommy copsnrobbers
is worse than the yankee drivel)
why do we wanna see shows about imaginary police
apprehending imaginary villains over n over again
i dont see anything interesting in robbery murder etc
or the workings of police force
id rather watch a show about carpenters actually…
i hate oprah wind-free type shows…dr fill..all that
jarry schpringer
i wanna kill myself after five minutes of that
csi…gory morbid rubbish
they even gotta live with the coroner show
dissecting bodies..
oh we can tell by the swelling of the thorax that….
no fucking thanks
and they say the church is depressing
ah…
now herein is the difference
we make you sad to make you happy
but the other stuff just makes ya sad. period.
actually not sad, but disturbed and down
but no reward
thats entertainment folks
now art can entertain
and (seldom) ent can contain art
but its the intention
i am trying to connect with my audience
something that cant be said
something that is taking a long long time to say
a work in progress
a message never completed
maybe it sometimes entertains ya
i hope so
but thats a bonus
but fuckin entertainment
look what they did with “troy”
whaddya call that?
all that money
all that potential
but they didnt honour the art
they just tried to extract the entertainment outta it
what they saw as the active ingredients
and ya know what
people gonna read the illiad as long as there are people
left to read
but troy is already sitting glumly
on the reduced shelf in woolworths
they didnt honour the art!

sometimes art is a gambit
like seance
the hoi polloi didnae much care for it in 82
but its gone on
attracting new listeners over the long years
being a small part of a body of work
it was a sacrifice for the future
whereas something like troy
thats jus’ gettem in
gettem out
next!
whys it gotta bee that way
lemme make a fucking film
i’ll show em
we’re tired of the tedious tripe yer doling out, hollywould
yer a joke
you never suspend my disbelief
sack jennifer aniston now
shes hopeless
all those ashton kultures
all that crowd
yeah you know who i mean
the ones in the gossip rags
hiltin’
crooze
kidd-manne
cathy z jones
i dunno all their fucking names
they are anathema
get some extraordinary stories
get some strange
get some fuckin weird n wonderful stuff
jesus the guy who made tarnation did all that on i-movie
how come the hollywould turkeys cant do stuff like that
with all their billions
they aint gotta clue
all they think they know is bums on seats
thats entertainment for ya
like chewing bubble gum
nice flavour for a cuppla minutes
then they all taste the same
and if ya keep going
ya get sick n tired of it fast
blah blah blah kilbee
ya preaching to the con-verted again
so what
i dunno
boycott their rubbish
refuse to have it pollute yer mind
you have the choice i guess
you dont have to watch that stuff
i love you
sk

as you can tell was watching johnny lennon last a night
on the old pox box via a dvd
hard to get a fix on that man
the songs he wrote….
jesus, i mean
i look at a lotta songwriters
most of em ya can sorta figure out how they did it
but with lennon..
how the hell would he have written strawberry fields in 1966
even after 40 years this song leaves me bewildered
as he wrote it he opened up a huge new category
a new way to rock
a way of incorporating irony
weariness
surrealism
existentialism
distance
detachment
hope and hopelessness
and believe me folks
there wasnt any o that in rock before lennon
strawberry fields
walrus
julia
#9 dream
instant karma
come together
across the universe
l i t s w d
who knows how he did it
not me
i dont care who you comin’ from
tthis stuff is the creme de la creme
of what ya can do within rock
dark beauty
the invocation of another state
another way to see things
goodbye 1950s hegemony narrow suitntie
shortbacknsides
momsapplepie
these songs demolished that paradigms ability
to say “this is all there is”
with a song
with a pop song…!
everything on strawberry fields
the strings
the mellotron flutes
the guitars
the indian instruments
its an introduction to the 5 million other pointsa view
other than cold war pleasantville
it was anathema to the “straights” who were
going along on the beatles thing
“oh yeah…those lovable moptops…”
but come rain on the b side of pback writer
and then fields itself
all the mums n dads jumped off the bandwagon
“dont know why they had to go all strange….”
because strange is what we need grandma
in strangeness lies individuality
because this humdrum mundane world is an illusion
got some people sucked in
and a song like this is an invitation
to open the door to that 99% of yerself
where you never been or even knew was there
an artistic form of shock
i tell ya s fields sounded like it was being beamed in
from another groovy world
in 1966
a place where maths n headmasters n work
seemed ridiculous
the rah rah rah of the rugger buggers
the bullying
the jockeying
the pressure to BE SOMEONE
make money
cope with the system
john lennon offered a glimpse of an alternative

i guess at some points it all went to his head
but who could judge a success on that scale
he put up with a lotta shit when he fell from grace
his life was routinely threatened
his wife was ridiculed and abused
he was fucking hounded by the fbi n cia
thats how powerful a threat his songs were
the “straights” turned on him
and they got him good
but he aint the first artist thats happened to
nor will he be the last
the gossip rags are turning it into an artform themselves
be all that as it may
i pay homage to the man
somewhere on a level with bob dylan
as to guys who created the framework
that all us other rock writers work within
but they can never be equalled
because they came first
with no precedents
and
that is rocks tragedy inna way
and that is why all those english rock mags
are always dylan lennon beatles stones
because an argument lennon had with his chauffer
is more interesting by far
than an interview with jack rockstar whos album
is number one this week
we all labour in these giants footsteps
thats just the way it is
you cant get bigger or better than those guys
thats a built in assumption
thats why it was all so silly with oasis
i mean
C’MON!!!
whats the point in pretending….
the gallaghers aint the beatles
they couldnt be

i still believe your number one saving grace is originality…..
to see if you can bend it
not reproduce it…
thats how the the big guys got big in the 1st place
anyway
i got bloggers cramp
adios, mein amigos

dont be alarmed
the things you see cant hurt you anymore
they are only potential
they only exist here on this little screen
youve been running and running
but youve realised that we are all one
and therefore
you were always running from yourself
and wherever you went
there you were
like someone trying to see themselves
in a mirror
or in a dream
or both
things getting bigger and shrinking
photowaves of disortion
subcuticular undulation
methodology suspect
in this case
abbreviated time necessary left
cram
ah….thats better
improving fluid days of love
try witch hazel or yohimbe
enter your bath humming strauss
shave your self and think smooth precise aqua glide
take down the chinese white towel
water evaporates like time
comb your hair
change your mind
complete the circle
abandon hope
out the door
the traffic in west ken grinds to a halt
shoulda taken the tube
shoulda been born a million years into the future
but youd still run outta and over time
christan wolf is waiting at the airport
the plane is in the hangar
virgo is rising
wolf takes your luggage silently
his car is warm and aromatic
ultc plays on the stereo
its spring, nearly summer
the countryside is superb
theres virtually nothing to worry about

the poem has already left the building

the mechanistic universe stops short of explanation
dumbfounded
lost for worlds
too tired to sleep
wandering down the corridors
starecases
at night starting up from its bed
bad dreams i couldnt explain
the stars themselves
the sun and everything dances round this
all held up
invisible hands
some understand nothing
when they are right
its for the wrong reason
white hot sword angel outside eden
keeping their prisoners out
miles and miles of starburn
branded on the hide of the night
the worms will wait
throw off that flesh n blood
weary travellers arrive
three wise guys
goldman,frankenstein and moore
there are no compartments here
everything is on the floor
no one knows anyone
its such a bother
its a short cut thru Inferno
its an all ghoul group
jenny taylor and the space needles
love missile f-1 11
sh sh shoot it up
wartorn sydney now bridgeless
the free world is now charging
you gotta subscribe
you gotta join the club
positions are available for the following positions
mavericks
novices (with experience)
pets(no pets)
seventh daughters of seventh daughters
inquisitors(should like people)
slaughterers(should like animals)
geniuses(should be cute)
slaves(good super!!!)
serfs in the net
assorted non specifics
send in your application by the silvery moon
use ink made from your tears
worship steel and glass
dig deep in the earth
hoard up the love
board up the window
shut down the sky
roll back the days
enter oblivion
pass thru its outskirts
dodge the flak
anticipate their movements
telecommunicate with me then!
random ninja stab
suzuki cars n guitars
all memories come on
show all memories
maximise picture
post it up
send it out
do it up
hit it up
pick it up
put it down
just like that
quick like that
and like this
like this stuff
want some more
make you think
make you dream
makes you wonder
the next day was preceded by a perfect pink dawn
i got up in time
i saw myself still asleep
i was across the road
asleep in the graveyard
i was in a hotel excelsior
in scandanavia
it was snowing
i thought this was in tasmania that time says les k
no dad you see ive mixed em up …its ok
this is a poem….
in the perfect pink dawn
the ripped out place where the sky was
leaks red star blood
i am awake early
i see myself as i was sleeping
i never dream this
its the pink dawn
all perfect except for the starblood
but at least
i am awake early
not sleeping or dreaming
across the road
where the sad vases of flowers are
where the angels are among the grass and tears
in the dawn
i awoke
it was pink
perfect
the birds were falling out of the sky
i mean, that was sad but….
at least i was awake
writing poetry in the dawn
in red letters on the skys empty hole
in tattered roman java script that oozed away
and wrote songs for itself to sing
a song that sang itself
the song was called
“who do i fuck to get my virginity back?
who do i see about my blindness?”
it was number one ooohhh for weeks n weeks
i heard that i wrote it
but i also just wrote that i only heard it
its all complicated isnt it
be much simpler when we get there
i’ll explain to ya
when we arrived