The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

lovely spirit
now i ask you
how long?
sea shell eyes
and pearly hair
your lagoon
fills with the incessant tide
a child went missing long ago
where is she?
“she lies at the bottom of my pool
but she is not dead
she dreams of whales and
great leathery green turtles
and sea serpents coil about her
in the cold dark depths”
lovely spirit
give this child up to the open sky
spirit
show us mortals your mercy
“but never i say!
the child is at lovely peace
and she wanders a greater world
eels light her way
and flying fish and salmon eyes”
we who keep the vigil on these forsaken shores
we who toil on the mountainous ocean
and dredge its depths
we who sing the elegy
we ask you one more time
give us back the child
” no no no
oh you should see her
her sandy hair waving in the water
her hands weave to and fro
her little toes are nibbled by tiny fishes
and her coronet is of coral
as the light makes its long way down
where shipwrecks snore
and the sharks impatiently swim
where un-named things are
silent green cold things
mouth that drinks rivers dry
black eyes shining in the blackness
a thing that feeds on giant squid and killer whales
down there
where you never thought
and now the child
keeps the monster pleasant company
whose heart
your mournful song
can never reach”

‘ere i am, then
waiting for my old age wisdom
munday morning 7 am
aurora gets out of bed
still half asleep
she looks like a giant rabbit
she tries to sit on my lap
sorry, girl
but im writing my blogg
she shrugs n goes back to bed
outside the omni-present mynah birds click n whistle
i imagine theyre organizing their days
(in an avian new jersey accent)
ok
we got a get a few birds down to the front garden
and sort out them pigeon mofos..frankie..you and beaky
take care of it
and…
what the fuck lenny…? those freakin’ seagulls…
i mean im sittin’ home in the nest last nite
eatin some worms, takin it easy
and my brother-in-law, peckah, comes over
and he tells me that some sea gulls just
got the last of that pizza we found….!!!??

anyway enuff of that
yesterday was argy bargy day
it wears me out
waste of time
i have been the most argumentative bastard ever
but now
i avoid em like the plague
like cigarettes or drunks
ya see when i was younger
so much younger than today
i thought that seeing
as i had a fast mind n i knew lotsa words
what better use to put it to than to argue
argue argue
argue-ments which usually became personal
but my nasty self loved to be let out of ‘is cage
and once he was running amok
it was hard to get him back under control
no i abhor arguments
i detest em
i loathe em
i try to walk away
i try to….
but i get reeled in
i get caught up in my own self righteous blather
my sly back-stabbing adjectival clauses
you wanna be taken apart n feel worthless…?
oh fly those winged words , never to be forgotten
those words you gonna live to regret
(kilbey pauses, eats a bunch of grapes
and ponders the pointless damage inflicted by
wagging tongues…his own, naturally
at the front of his many confused thoughts)
ive said so many stupid things..
so’s everybody
i guess
i wish i could hold my tongue
i wish i could speak always in constant measured quiet tones
i wish i could refrain from quick n nasty rejoinders
i wish i could ignore all the little implied insults
i wish i could heal rifts
i wish i could always think of sumfing fucking nice to say
or hold my bloody tongue if i cant
but yesterdays argy neither about or caused by me
i’s just one of the civilian casualties
caught in the fallout of an explosion of frustration
and a fallout of unresolved old malarkey
boo hoo
poor olde killer
hes too olde n tired for arguing anymore
and he wants out
but you dont walk away from king bicker like that…
so today
maybe
ah
its beyond my control
i’ll be contemplating the blue of infinity
behind my grey eyes
and thinkin’ of better times

people been writing that they enjoy being here
on my bloggepage and reading each others comments
i feel guilty cos that was never an intention
it accidentally happened..
while i was just mucking about with an online diary
probably aimed more at self aggrandizing than anything else
such is life
good things can come of bad things
as well as vice versa
if i write a song to make my self feel clever
or to make money
or just as an exercise in songwriting
and someone genuinely loves it..
what does that mean?
i used to say i took no responsibility for my songs
and i think thats still the case
what is a blogge
if not a long song
with no sound
and the words dont rhyme
and…
ok
i guess theyre completely different
i am thanking my subscribers
who put their money where their mouths were
and paid their olde pal
your contributions are appreciated
and i will keep trying to
keep you
satisfied
who knows
i may even do omething good…?

what if everything……?
i mean…..
i been wrong so many times
about so many things…
in fact, i aint hardly ever been right….
and now
now its sunday again
the twillies gone 5 days now
yesterday the rest of us go to balmoral beach again
i swim my laps between the jetty walls
evie swears shes sees a sting-ray
(but ya never know with evie)
baby bumper not so keen on the slightly cold water
we have lunch on the grass
nk has schnapper n chips
i have veggy bugger n chips
doodles have chips n muffin (how nutritious!)
bumper has a bit of everything
its a warm overcast day
sks flavourite kinda day
a storm threatens but never arrives
a dark day that holds you like a lover
we have peaceful relaxing time
theres a cricket match going in the distance
i ask the doodles if they wanna know the rules
they watch the tedious carryon for a moment n say in unison
no thanks, dad
scarlet keeps runnin’ towards the match
n i have ‘orrible visions of her being brained by a cricket ball
(which are effing hard!)
so the doodles keep rushing off and tackling the baby
when she wanders too far
(evie a little too enthusiastically)
we have a nice ride back
over the bridge to bondi
we get home
do a bit of yoga
read mums book
(very entertaining)
we’re about to emmy-grate to OZ (as she puts it)
pretty brave leaving blighty for the unknown quantity of aust
and if theyd stayed in england……?
but they didnt
and here i am in the middle of a strangely cool summer
(delicious tho!)
lassanite last nite of play for a while
oh i’ll miss that crazy bunch of thesps n bohos
also must mention the bricklane workshop in bondi
at last some culcha in bondi
a real place where it feels like somethings happening
oh i hope they can keep it open
(zoning restrictions?)
andrew h is a true bohemian artist
living it painting it
trying to make it groovy for ya
lucien savron is my bohemian idol
a man who does it coz he loves it
and the money is the last thing on his mind
and his jobs never done
even in the audience i hear him laughing the loudest
sucking in his breath and clapping madly
all at stuff hes seen a million times
hes like a very proud father when the shows a success
(and on its own terms the thing is a mega success!)
theres a review promised in the smh even (wow)
oh and thanks to bonsa for their review
we may do the play some more
we may move around
i also must thank seb goldspink
for being a brilliant actor
and another guy whos main motivation
as far as i can tell
is the love of it
jerry i read yer blog and its hard to comment
i tried but i went into some weird limbo
but ah…you gotta be a bit more eloquent than that
and the tech crew matt n richard
and the musos gav n svet who maybe deported back to bulgaria(?)
bulgaria? he says…theres nothing there…
well maybe the zoo story will ride again
its another ticket in the lottery for me
along with everything else i do
i mean
i just need some bigshot to discover me
take me onboard
remunerate me handsomely with an annual package + bonuses
i can still be bohemian n rich
believe me
i know i can do it
i dont mind being poor on my own
but when you gotta big fambley its very frustrating
i mean me in a caravan by the sea on my own….
well i could enjoy that
but me n doodles n twillies n bumper in caravan
would be rather…er…arduous, i’d imagine…
oh god sometimes im so sick of myself
being locked in this skull with all my familiar tricks
anyway
i maybe rehursing with the cretch today…or not
some new argy bargy looms…so im uncertain
i gotta finish my book n its cover v.soon
essays on rock….mmm brilliant title, olde noggin
theres so much bullshit n yibber yabber in the book
that i thought the title could at least be simple n “straight”forward
ok {{“.”]} …you better let me know some name i can put ya under
for the pretenders in melb. ok……?
doesnt haf to be yer real name or nuthing….
still
everything remains up in the air
a feeling of incompletion
a worry i cant focus on
something in the periphery
trying to hurt me
trying to get at me
never just easy
always something
something missing
something you want
where does it end
what can i do
is it up to me
this is all illusion
remember that n beware
if you take it for the real thing
(and i do constantly)
youll get burned
you get addicted
youll get dependent n co-dependent
youll try to get things you shouldnt have
and theres a good reason that you shouldnt
(kilbey takes a gulp of ricemilk
who is this sermon aimed at? one wonders)
i just thought by the time i got to fifty fuckin’ 2
i’d be a bit more….uh…together
still the stupid me i always seem to be
despite everything
all the accolades or whatever
why aint i comfortable in this skin?

the theatre n its bubble
ok….
here i am presented with a strange task…
to review myself….
i mean
how do ya review yourself…?
i guess i was alright
i ever so slightly muffed a cuppla lines
nothnig major…
i just didnt quite get em right
actor schmactor
i been acting all my life
playing a child
ah….
that was a tedious part
to be the co-star in my own life
to a buncha adults
and i, a mere kid
smarter than all of em too…
frustrated by their shenanigans
now im a daddy-oh
my kids all think theyre smarter than me
and im frustrated with their shenanigans…
and im acting
acting
acting
when i do an interview
who will i be today…
a modest if eccentric olde aussie
a bitter cynical olde pseud
a wide eyed idiot savant
mr normal
mick jagger
or a million variations i got up my sleeve…
didja ever meet me?
nice, isnt it?
do ya think ya got the real me?
fuck, i cant get the real me….
ive players acting the players
my life is an elaborate out of control play
i have concocted out of scraps
and i need yer applause
to fill in the gaps
i need yer attendance to hold it together
i need my audience to be
would i write of this for no one?
you you you
i congratulate you for choosing me
in this mundane problematic world
we have each other
close the door
and lets say
what the helll is going on out there
and fiendss
when somebody bigg discovers me
and i finally cash in
when im playing golf with my “attorney”
and bickering wth my “p.a.”
when ive interpenetrated some org.
when im on the inside..
im gonna still be yer guerilla on the frontline
shocking people
BY GIVING EM SOMETHING GOOD!
yep
im the one of the guys whos putting love n intelligence
into his creations…
and they can dress me in my grad gown
as i accept my honarary phds n nobel prizes
but ya know im still that scruffy spacerocker
that you admire n warship
and those ceos n kings n queens n prezzies
better not xpect me to stop smoking n carrying on
and dont try to…
whoah olde being..
you runnin’ away with yourself a little olde druid
yes yes but we hadda full house plus..!?
it was a little workshop/gallery in friggin’ bondi!
but they loved me….?
they loved the other guy, killer…you just sit there mostly
well i sit there with….panache n aplomb
even if you do say so yerself…….
well who else will?
exactly!

ok enough of me n back to …ah…
me
here i am
being here
here is the being
you love to hate to love
oh my dear {{(-+-)]}
(now you look like a koala!)
your story grieves me
could i put you plus one on a guest list
in melbjorn perhaps…
for pretenders or march acc show?
would bee my pleasure
and no trouble or cost either
imagine when you show up at ye olde boxx office
you: killer in the supprt band as put mee on the daw
impertinent whippersnapper: woshyorenaymthen?
you:its ms {[(-+-)]} + 1
i.w. : i cant see none of them…you aint ({[}]) are ya?
you : look here i demand to see the mannyja
chrissy b.hyndes(whos just walking past) : let that woman in!
i.w.: but but but
c.b.h(wjwp): did you dare to say butt butt to chrissy b. hyndes?
you(miserably): oh let me in…i can hear the cherch has started..
i.w.: no thats the cleaners hoovering the floor
you: oh…it sounds like space rock from here…
i.w. will i do hear they suck…but this is ridiculous
c.b.h.: i say…whats the killer like..could you introduce us…
i.w. : hes a grumpy olde bastard..
you: no he’s…oooh i dunno…he’s …just…indescribable
c.b.h: oooh…
i.w.: bullshit…!

oh killer
you should be a playwrite
god…is there any artistic endeavour you could not conker?
note to myself
i must seriously take on sculptcha n bal-ay
i must write a novel
i must pen a symphony
i must dream up an opera
i must paint with oils
n design a car
n invent a cure for dismay
n go back in time
n help all the underdogs
and answer all my emails, marty
and learn on my stops n starts, tim
n ring back all those answering machine calls
n thank my subscribers
and dangle my daughter on my knee
and trim my beard
n make my bed
and kiss my wife
n drive my car
n move into deep time
plucking notes
choosing colours
doing the breaststroke
plunging into the cold green brine
sittin in ye olde sauna
chat chat chat
hi steve..
hi steve…
hi steve…
i belong
at last
no i dont
im inside looking outside in
im outside your house right now
and im watching you
im already dead
or yet to be born
are they the same?
i wouldnt say so…
its all mixed up
sings poor dead ben orr
n his voice goes on n on non non
oh yes my play
can i act?
i been acting that im a musician for 30 years
i walk onstage n i act that im important
and that there is “significance” in what i do
and compared to fucking jet or brittnee or pat boone
or enid blyton or the oc or a footy game..
well i guess there is…
i act pleased to be there
and i act aloof
i or i act like im “sent”
or im sent like i act
or i dunno
i act like the real thing
so when did i become the real thing
whats real?
whats a thing?
whats what?
i peel off these layers
but theres always another veneer
just underneath
like this universe
like love itself
thanks to my lovely sister in lore amy s
for watching the doodles+bumpa
n letting nk see what i been doing with my time
me :do you think i can act?
nk :uh-huh…
well
the curtain comes down
the crowds disperse
the ushers change
the money gets counted
a smoke n a drink
goodbye
goodbye
into the warm wet night
laughing n joking
all the way
home

catapulted
insurrection
blood and sand
driven far and deep
scraps for the birds
meltpoint
arduous trek
the generals approach
hazarding a guess
spearhead grazes flesh
the fountain spurts
an agony of days
a wild wood
no mans land
no men land
the creeping sickness
a pounding head heart
deterring invasion
completely hidden
cloaked by fog
notch by notch
hemmed in
held down
the men they…..
crimson eyed
much vaunted strength
hurt
staggering
nailed
interpenetrated
no chance
among us
all around
they strike
flames
gas
anything
ladders fall
crumpling mess
collapsing structure
narrowing of path
closing of the doors
exit vanish
air bright fear
hack hack
shoot
hit hit
hit
im hit
missing
im missing
im firing
im waiting
blip blip
sign sign
white hot cold
the mud
the hospitals
the sleeping
window snow grave
flowers tears
more snow
thorns
starving birds
rusty iron thing
sunspot
roll back further
no, even further
no air here
who?
who…..
no

good morning fiendss
another lovely day here in nth bondi
im feeling a little uncertain
about everything
the solid facts of my life
are temporary things
snatched away so easily by time
health
possessions
family
friends
even time together
all taken by time
am i really the time being?
what does he mean by that?
time crashes all over me
i am ultrasensitive to time
on my wrist the tatoo “no time”
in case of emergency
no time
in truth
in good time
as i once wrote
and again
only time separates us from the grave
as soon as time runs out
i say
gimme more time
another day
one more day of sweet life
one more day in my lovers bed
one more day in the sunlight
more time in the limelight
more time for laughing
more time for being
and
more of the time for the being
yoga buys me time
qi gong buys me time
meditation buys me time
swimming takes time but still buys time
love buys me time
the following deplete time
drugs, booze, argy-bargy
gossip, telly, anxiety
at the end of my life
i will ask for another day
just one more sweet day
oh the people are all beautiful n interesting
how i envy them all
outside this infirmary
all the people with time
playing round within time
now im almost outside time
what would you give me….?
time for this
time for that
time to do this
to time to try that
days accelerate
nights shrink
i clutch at the fabric of my days
i panic as it rips
as a day i grasp
unravels the seams of time
the seems of time
the fates hold up our slender thread
snip snip snip
people falling to the left n right
why do you go on…? someone asks
how do you stop? i reply
what do you want? they ask again
time? can i have time?
money over time? they say
time is money i reply
when will it be moneytime though?
never ever again?
or
soon, son, soon
bills accumulate
the rent is due
the seasons change
the dreaded phone calls
the knocks at the door
an idiot rings me up and says
killer why dontcha just chill
cant he see im freezing here…?
months elongate unexpectedly
the new moon
womens courses flow
babies are born
people are married
grandparents pass away
everything in its place
for everything
term turn term
the term of his natural life
where is the natural in my life
lookin’ sharp in my flats but no naturals
fate turns it all on right at the end
tick tick but never tock
goes my olde kitchen clock
my ears ringing more than this time last year
and that was a scream
2007…im hanging on to ya
i might let a little bit of january go by…
to give me something to hold on to…
but im gonna dig in the brakes
around feb
the brakes n the breaks
scarlet kilbey waddles in the room
and when she leaves shes in high heels
the twillies are women n mothers
the doodles become teenagers
they blossom and move out n away
i clutch again at short straws
my breathing becomes laboured
feels like i can never get enough air
the words on pages blur
the names in my mind fade
never to be spoken again
my voice dry
and then….
and then
i ask myself
what did it all mean
my life as sk
was a day
in the life
of all my lives
all the events n places n people
just trivial unremembered playground incidents
the breakthrus n failures
so what
and johnny o boogie was right
there IS nothing to get hung about
resistance is futile
but futility is futile too, baybee
jesus says we could move mountains with faith
if we but knew how
buddha says chill killer n take the middle path
krishna says nothing that lives will ever truly die
bobby dylan says
when i am in the darkness why do you intrude?
davy blowie says
we dont dance much, we just ball n play
then we move around like tigers on vaseline
jimbo says
lost in a roman wilderness of pain
n all the children are insane
cs lewis says
in the last days of narnia….
you dont wanna read that yer favourite place was in its last days..
i mean i dont mind the decline of the roman empire but..
everybody says nostradamus this…..
end of days we living in now
no more popes
(good fucking riddance)
no more wars for a while
a golden age of peace
or
collision with wormwood
the pit opens
666 on yer forehead baybee or no service
whose side are ya on?
good or evil?
aslan or tash?
if you worship aslan but call him tash, what then?
why does aslan permit tash to exist?
and time
time
time……
machine guns dripping with years
ya come
ya go
ya arrive
ya leave
steven, yer leavin’ say the doodles
n everyone laughs
n then
everyones gone
and the credits roll
i cant believe that was the last episode
i say to nk
as i turn off the screen with the clicker
and her chair is empty
theres no furniture
theres no walls
only
light

well
im sitting here
having the cry
i been needing to have
in 45 minutes
i gotta take the twills to aero-puerte
and i dont wanna say goodbye
after a million goodbyes
and i suddenly regret
all the little times during this visit
that i felt miffed or inconvienced by em
last night we have a lovely dinner
uncle john
z
matty c (now wonderfully given all-clear by his doc)
glenny glen-glen who cut my hair real short for play
and us lot
we played dictionary game
and minna won!
it was a lovely evening
and i wassa so proude of all my various daughters
ha
its so strange…
the 2 lotsa twins came to see a rehearsal
im looking straight at em when
jerry asks me about my children
all girls i say
jerry: but you wanted a son
peter: well naturally everyman wants a son but…
(i do believe the little twins thought i meant it)
anyway i gotta get the twillies up n at em
ah elli
elli stop yawning
clear blue morning
but im in mourning again
there is talk that twills are gonna live in aust for one year
this year 07
please god
make that happen for me
bless all you fiends
a special special thanks to my subscribers
sk

a pack of yobbos has moved in underneath us about 3 weeks ago
theyve had 4 partys since xmas
last night
horror of horrors
the yobbos
(read young ignorant beer swilling people
possessed of little charm or grace)
last nite, monday nite
the yobbos have a little gathering of 20 other fellow yobbos
all talkin’ like kath n kim
and to my absolute distress n dismay
they now have a barbeque
under our windows
we had the lighter fluid
we had the thick black smoke of their disgusting altar
then
we have the rancid filthy stench
as they burnt their dead dismal offering
to some brainless beer-god
we have to close all the windows immediately
but the vile evil odours have permeated our home
like having a crematorium going outside..
plus brilliant comments like
“this is really good meat!!”
as they tuck into their tragedy
they guffaw loudly and slurp down such copious quantities of booze
that the glass recycler is nearly valve-bouncing
then the doof doof doof starts
it pumps solidly thru the night
up thru the flawboards
its inane uselessness finds me
music for people who hate music
a simplistic bang bang bang
for yer basic moron who loses interest
if there is a more than a one second gap
and fiendss
here comes the frightening bit
2 of these yobbos are girls
2 yobettes and their little brother
formerly of yob point
i knew i was gonna hate em
when i saw they had a fuckin parrot in a cage as they moved in
yeah yobette
i bet yer lil birdy loves doin’ solitary for life
yet committed no crime
instead of flying the burnin’ blue skies
hes prisoner in yer nasty little cage
people with no clue
people with no taste
i was gonna say
theyre not even “straights”
we had “straights” before and they were considerate
they were doofing once
i knocked at the door
and said the missus is trying to have a rest
and the doof ceased pronto
their only other problem was an
enormous surround sound war game machine
the floor would shake n shudder
and civilians would scream
i kid you not
we had only some thin floor boards
separating us from ww111
tanks blasting
rockets falling
the works
but theyd always stop at 11
or if ya banged on the ceiling
but lassanite when i finally
at 11 30
jumped on the epicentre of the doof doof
they stopped for 3 seconds
then it returned in all its moronic vengeance;
the unfailing thump of drunken yobbos.
eventually as their gathering winds down
they accumulate (like rubbish)
underneath our bedroom window
having their loud empty ha ha ha
blah blah blahs right outside
(you couldnt dignify it with the word “conversation”)
now i dont want to start that fucking idiot up again
in the comments section..
but the yobettes male friends
dont mind draining their beer-swollen bladders
just round the side of the house neither
now…..
well of course
next time it happens
(im always saying next time)
but next time
im gonna vacuum the house at 6 am
slowly and knocking big heavy things over
again n again
the doodles will be allowed
nay encouraged
to run n jump n doing cartwheels cross the floor
music which i imagine is anathema to the yobs will be played
(ie something nice)
at random intervals in random parts of the house
with my new bass heavy hi fi box
a’shuddering and a’vibrating right thru the gentle morning…
hangover?
im gonna induce the mother of all hangovers
when space ritual resounds deafeningly
in their cauliflower ears n confused alcohol soaked “brains”
NICE N EARLY
WAKEY WAKEY HANDS OFF SNAKEY!!!
and then….
and then…
and then im as bad as them
another irate naybour killing people loudly
with their badde fucking manners
and then things can get even worse
i mean it isnt actually open war yet…..
and i dont want that
believe me
i been living here for ages
its usually isnt TOO bad
kellys gone n everything…..
she did a midnite runner a few weeks back
anyway
she was a lot more exciting than the dullards downstairs
they are as close to generic yobbo as you can get
just the most uncomprehending kinda idiots
who depress ya just seeing hearing n now smelling em
nk is furious
im trying to keep her under control
the twillies at midnite lassanite
were spoiling for a fight
im going down there to fucking tell them
TO SHUTTUP OH!!!
yells skinny minni
marching down the stairs
come back here i hiss
not tonite…
ya see
i know enuff to know
that 20 20 something yobbos
with bellies full of grog n flesh
and a good doof doof going
well
they aint gonna listen to an irate vegeterian bi-lingual twin
from sodermalm stockholm telling em
to close down their cretinous festivities
and go to sleep
now what do i do?
i cant afford to move
i dont wanna move neither….
but what the….?
im in shock
please no” just chill”
thats what they’d probably say..
i dont wanna be this part im being forced into
the angry olde guy upstairs
whos trying to stop their orgies of ignorance
i dont wanna start a cold war
or any other war with em neither
i just wish theyd go away…
please somebody..
MAKE EM GO AWAY

ps mishy
do you wanna come thursday?
sk

sorry fiendss
i cant bring myself to the seas
i mean, the Cs
i know i ppromised ya
and all
but
cmon…
its like real fucking work doing that stuff
like answering questions
like travelling in aeroplanes
like disciplining kids
like having to explain yerself all the time
like rehearsing
like having a drug addiction
like being a tilers labourer on a building site
or pumping gas at the Total servo in wattle street
or mowing the lawn
or wiping up the dishes
or cleaning up my toys
or trying to learn to walk
or being born…….
i know y’all are paying me to write
but as an act of rebellion
i say no Cs today
you see you like me a little bit when im unpredictable
tho you mayent dig it at the time
and well
i just couldnt be BOTHERED doing the Cs
i’d rather just goof off with something like this
or some free form thing..
a poem?

hanky pankow
was a dour lad
he eschewed the good
and embraced the bad

there…
see?
a poem for ya

lassanite
nk n i watched movie c@#sucker blues
about ye olde rolling stones
shot in 72
its a bootleg
the film never released
such an art movie
the film all grainy
it leaves afterimages of colour in b + w
the white corridors to n fro dressing rooms bleed into white glare
the stones are grainy cartoons
loaded on top shelf drugs
they ponce about
centres of their own universes
jagger gives an interview to 2 fawning journos
hes dressed in a little blouse tied at the waist
n either undies or swimmers
he sits up with his legs tightly crossed
and in a millisecond his face changes from
a young rockstar
to
a retarded girl
to
a petulant ape
to
a handsome rebellious brute
to
a petty old queen
to
a stoned moron
to
a frosty icon
to
an angry young man
to
a coked up gossip bag
to
a latter day percy shelly
back to
mick jagger
i mean
talk about a fucking chameleon…!
keith is mostly sleepy
everyone puffing on a never ending chain of cigarettes
keith chucks a telly out a window
it hits the floor 18 storeys below explosionless
keith giggles
jagger n bianca snort coke n mince abaht
mick taylor walks in on a rather ugly naked groopie
+ some roadies or something
she lies before him opening n reopening her legs
“ive never seen a room graced with such beauty” he snootily declares
as he gazes in disgusted abstraction upon her hirsute agenda
if yer looking for sex drugs n rocknroll
this is the movie for you
we see people cooking up
shooting up
gang bangs on aeroplanes
head jobs a plenty
naked scrubbers play with themselves
while keithy n mick bang tambos
8 miles high
a. groopie nurses a passed out keef
a black waitress at a roadie snort session declares
oh i aint never had it before…
i knew it’d be good..
but you know…
not that good…!
and the film slowly builds up an atmosphere of oppression
jagger argues with a road manager whos had a drug dealer
beaten up n kicked off the tour
jaggers slightly miffed
but his self obsession n narcissism never allow him to ever focus…
aware of the camera
he limply plays some counter culture cliche
“well man…er you can dig my trip..its not the bread man..”
as his voice drawls on n on in that affected lazy way
actually he comes across as a spoilt prisoner
within a sordid hedonistic bubble of froth n ego
the performances are all over the place
he barks his way thru brown sugar
marching up n down the stage like a brat in the school musical
then anothertime
he nails midnight rambler
every inch the quintessential rock deity
with his perfect bouncing hair
his perfect jawline
his perfect huge red lips
n
his perfect gymnasts body
jaggers sexuality is blurred here
where can i get my cock sucked
where can i get my ass fucked
he wails in the “title track”
and then indeed
in a crowded dressing room
jagger shrugs outta his get up
and we see his ass
and his cock n balls too
gee mick
you musta known the cameras were there
meanwhile keef snores on a plane
the roadies snort more coke
and root more groopies
and the stones stumble down more neverending white corridors
as if on their way to executions
the photographers
the screaming babbling crowds
the fans are driven crazy by the stones n their ginormous success
all the while on tvs the 1972 presidential thingos going on
1972 seems brutal wild chaotic
people seemed like theyd do anything
as they floundered in the void of the sixties collapse
the flower power dream had ended in the nightmare
of vietnam
yes children
the man was still pulling the strings
the “straights” were back on course
jagger n cronies
(we see hardly anything of bill w n charlie)
keiths companion du jour most times is bobby keys
the texan saxophonist
who hit the olde horse big time
theres one scene where
keefs sittin in a hotel room
hes in his dressing gown
and gone is his coleridge langour
and his sleepy bohemian i-dont-give-a-fuck
now he looks alert miserable
some lackey is on the phone
giving instructions n addresses in a serious tone
as if hes organising an invasion
“do you understand its 1205 blah blah st
and when you get there…blah blah”
i guess keefs run out of joy dust
and hes kinda anxious to get some more onboard
anyway
this movie aint covering up much…
the 2 stars dont come over too well…
you should see jagger twittering away in a car
smoking a spliff and ramblin on
“blah blah blah me me me”
he squeaks on as bianca yawns n keef nods in the backseat
if you love rocknroll
see this film
it aint pretty
its gotta be 10 million times better than rattlenhum
or any other rock doco i ever seen
its gonna disturb ya
its gonna haunt ya
where are all those people now
the rabid psycho fans
“they took my baby off me cos i took acid”
mumbles a sad ghost in the black n white wilderness
of a mid west stadium carpark
all the kids
that roaring screaming mass
all of em now late fifties or sixties
this is an art movie
make no mistake
the film flashes n pops n drops out
it flares out to brilliant bone white
it condenses into impenetrable black
it seemed to have all happened a million years ago
in some desolate clunky universe
(check out the telephones)
you see glances of truman compote
tina turner
andy war-hole
blah blah
etc etc
where glamour meets the visceral
where fascination n disgust collide
where hero n villain blur
how do you feel now?
ladies n gentlemen
the greatest rocknroll band in the world
plus very naughty bits

sk

look
i aint holding myself up as any great collector
everything here is incomplete, random and partial
i got a lotta holes in my collexion
(but not my complexion)
and quickly spruiking (shamelessly!) my play
friday 12 satday 13 jan, 8pm 15$ 10 $ concession
bricklane workshop 151 curlewis st
0439431114
oh and bon bon
i can put you on the door but i need to know
under mr or ms….
to other syddley fiendss
i imagine if you turn up at 730 on the night youll get a seat
we are having a nite for guests n family too on thursday at 8
turn up for that too if yer cheeky enuff :
tell em your my cousin…
anyway the play (now with musicians) is going well
i AM peter
an upperclass twit, kinda secretly gay, loadsa money
baffled to meet a real live hoodlum one day
in 1960
the guy who plays jerry the hoodlum is brilliant
he is all the restless smartass aggression of a new york psycho-bully
we got it going like a tennis match now
its very liberating
like know a piece of music
rattling it off efffortlessly
you can start to Xplore the tiny spaces
where you yourself lie therein…
enuff (shameless) spruiking
isnt that a kaydee lang album?
or was that r d laing who wrote knots?
ok
without a further do
bauhaus
who appear on my ipod only because of dark side of eighties comp
do ya wanna hear an extra silly version of ziggy stardust?
here it is…..
bbc orch does peer gynt
cant really argue with this one
in the hall of the mountain kings
the whole thing is suffused with mystery n brilliance…..
be bop deluxe
i only actually have axe victim on my pod
the other 3 or 4 waiting to go in…
i could write a whole blogge on bill nelson n be bop
this was a very influential album for most of us in churuch…
the beach boys
smiley smile/ wild honey
brain wilson…whatta master….for a while..he burned bright
i do hate the uncomfortable sight of some great awkward olde git
being carted around singing teenage lyrics with a fixed unibomber stare
while his fingers play piano parts in the thin air…
am i the only person who finds this at complete odds
with the original intention of the music eg sunny youthful etc
anyway good vibrations is one of THE true 7 wonders of rock
(a future blogge topic…remind me)
and the wind chimes here is by far superior to the other one
i hear this track n im back in surfers paradise with ploogy in 81
hot sultry nights in our hotel ploogy played smiley n petsounds over n over
i should have more
should have surfs up…..
the beatles
abbey road *****
help! ****
let it be naked ****
love *****
sgt peppers *****
what can ya say about the beatles
keep yer eyes peeled for my forthcoming book
essays on rock
the beatles are the prime movers
the originators
i havent gottem all on ipod…so what?
soon
the beatles music is the warp n woof of our western society
their contribution is enormous n evident
essential…….
bee gees
1st
odessa
i love a lotta beegees songs
jesus they had a run of hits everyone a bona fide clasiic
spicks n specks
new york mining disaster
massachussetts
words
how can you mend a lonely heart
tomorrow, tomorrow
i started a joke
i gotta getta message to you
i fuckin loathe the disco period however
no i dont find it kitsch or nuthing
odessa has got some of the worst pretentious lyrics
historical tripe about the baltic sea…more like bollocks,see..?
sorry about maurice tho…n andy….too soon too soon….
big audio dynamite e=mc2
i like mick jones…
this is pretty good..i guess..
big country
in a big country
(imagine if we’d been
the church “in the church”)
this is from nks collexion i guess
sad to think of this geezers lonely demise..
i think this schtick was good for one song
but i was pretty tired of the highland fling schlock
very very quickly…
big spaceship
this is the druid from all indias other group
kraftwerky electro-pop
its pretty damn nifty actually
probably better than anything the teutonic tin cans have done for years
good on ya martin…i really like this record…
big star
in 1974 i finally got my hands on #1 and radio city
then a few years later sister/lovers (in all its permutations)
big star loom hugely in the churuch world
whole careers have been based around one big star song
frinstance “kangaroo”
that song invented the whole falling apart thing
listen to it
buckley did it…its on a couple of his..
great god
i could write a thesis on the importance of this one song
thats why buckley had to do it…
its a seminal rock song
its an archetype
as good as its gonna get
if you want a sprawling decaying masterpiece….
bil withers
aint no sunshine
ooh mama…
sexee ladies man music…
this from nks collex
but i do dig this in a detached/partially nostalgic way..
mmm…sweet ladee…ahhh!
biosphere
cirque
insomnia
man with a movie camera
microgravity
shen zhou
substrata
biosphere is norwegian guy
who makes clever instrumental music
its all very different
from ambient pieces
shards of ice cracking up
noisy
found sound
orchestral loops
anything
usually bril
recommend substrata
for frozen jollies
arctic rock?
oh this is lovely stuff…
hard to tear my self away…
black sabbath
(from darkside of 80s???!!!)
paranoid
i like this n the cover of the 1st album
other than that i find ozzy/sabbath
does nothing for my refined tastes…
blank n jones
relax 1 n 2
i never wooda hearda these germanic groovers
if i hadnt done a song for em called revealed
this stuff is cruisy dancey trancey chill out
whatever the fuck they call it this week
its like an endless summer night in majorca
the hot air
the restaurants overflowin at midnight
that sweet e washed down with the champers
and then
oh baby
oh ya hit that sweet groove
way down in ya soul
as the doof doof doof
and the flanging strings suck upwards
into the fragmenting spanish night
oh cmon baby….yeah this aint music for thinkin’ to…
blind faith
oh classic album
stevie winwood
clappers
ginger b
rick grech
cant find my way home, presence of the lord
both bona fide classics
instant nostalgia
back in my bedroom
cold canberran night
i have single strip heater that burns one little bit of ya
and leaves the rest of the room cold
like a pie my father made once which was
burnt black on outside n ice on the inside
(with vegemite gravy!?)
i ve just received blind faith from the record club
which was a post order scam if you got people joined into
the record club you got 2 free albums
and when they joined they got 5 free albums
anyhow blind faith arrived in the mail which is very exciting actually
when yer sixteen anyway
in the glow of my heater n on my portable record player
i listen in wonder to this record
i cannot now disentangle myself from these impressions
i still enjoy it anyway….
the blue nile
i have walk across rooftops
i love this one
like music from a broadway show that never was
weary intelligent romantic songs
do i love you?
yes i love you
but it its easy come
easy go…
all this talking is only bravado
bo hansson
lord of the rings
magical musical interpretation of ring saga
this is superb stuff
innovative sad music channeled straight from middle earth
a billion times better than celtic schlock in movie
note to peter jackson:middle earth aint the emerald isle..
if ya love lotr
or ya love strange beautiful instrumental music
get this get this get this
i saw hansson on streets of stockholm
now twilight mysterioso…
boards of canada
the campfire headphase
awful title boys but super good album
i like b o can
clever instrumental stuff a bit pro toolsy..
8 out of ten easy..
bob dylan
blonde on blonde*****
infidels****
pat g and billy the k****
slow train****
street legal*** and a half
time outta mind***
what can i a mere mortal add to the
over notated mr dill-on
the buddha to lennons christ?
he wrote the book…
absolutely essential listening
where are desire n blood on the tracks both *****
????
must sort that out…
bonnie tyler
total eclipse of the heart
from nks collex
im listening to it now
its…..horrendous!
bow wow wow
from darkside of the eighties
go wild in the country
rubbish!
bread
it may surprise you to know i love bread
dont know why
i just love his songs
sorry
they make me feel good
they bypass the cynic in me
and i just enjoy em
a guilty pleasure
i now come out of the bread closet
i am a bread lover
ha ha ha
brian eno
another day on earth ****
another green world*****
before n after science *****
bell studies***
discreet music****
here come the warm jets****
i dormienti***
kite stories***
music for films*****
on land*****
eno is an original
a giant in thought n deed
again worthy of a whole blog
its hard to say now enos impact at the time
one of my heroes
all his stuff is different
give it a chance
its some of the best..
brian eno n david byrne
my life in the bush of ghosts****
eno n jpeter schwalm
drawn from life ****
eno n harold budd
plateaux of mirror*****
the pearl*****
brian jonestown massacre
and this is our music
bjm demos 91
i like the bjm
they frustrate me sometimes but i like em
better them than most of the other tripe out there
and this..is a great record
and i get a mention(!?) on the cover…
bruce springsteen
18 tracks**
asbury park****
the wild etc****
born to run******
darkness on the edge*****
tunnel of love****
another massive subject
youve seen my rave on about my fave boss tracks before
he sits only at dylans feet as a giant rocknroll figure

thats it
c ya tomorrow!

killa