The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

i lost my voice last night
it was cutting in and out
i couldnt hang round and do encore
and the whole gig being filmed……
so bitterly disappointed
only once before have i lost it
yes
i had manuka honey
lemon etc
no good
toby from youth group says try whiskey
i did
nonetheless my voice clapped out
whenever i needed it
in wide open road it would not hit the notes
instead a woeful raggedy distorted racket
graham lee donged himself in the mouth with a guitar
(thats rocknroll! says cheeky mick harvey)
at the end i whisper to him
i cant sing field of glass graham…
ok he says
go home and rest
while he dabs at swollen mouth with hanky
today
today
will try not to talk
almost have no voice at all right now
why?
another couple of days it wouldnae have mattered
ah human frailty
killer, you starting to fall apart
and so much to do
so much left to do
praying to roman god of voices for smooth sailing
but i fear tonite could be more of the same
im so sad
damn it!

second night with triffids already last night
my voice going going almost gone
there is an art to “belting” i obviously havent mastered
my brother jlk leaves phone message today
good….but now yer voice is shot…..
yes oh dear hes right
my normally resonant voice reduced to a husky croak
last nite it failed me
i would go for the big high powerful note
which i know i can hit and….
my voice would disintegrate before my eyes
first my ears
now my voice
i tell thee verily my children
take nothing of thy physical body as a given
things will and do clap out
today i will try to talk as little as poss
but my olde larynx aint happy with me
but i guess
i cant control myself
went for a swim today in the foggy misty rain
its been raining nonstop for 2 or 3 days here
its lush and green and delicious
this summer rain
in the sauna i hear a ridiculous conversation
between some fat hairy old git about my age
and some handsome well toned but slightly vacuous youngman
who vaguely had something of the faun about him
with his curly hair n pointy beard
he was saying
“havent you ever had ecstasy oh wow
oh everyone should have it
oh not that im advocating it or anything”
and the old git saying
“bloody drugs whos gonna pay for yer livers
whats wrong with a bit of booze
dont talk to me about drugs!”
all punctuated by my sudden guffaws
as each side trotted out its cliches
the pool was crowded
and i got pissed off n climbed out
ive read some good reviews of triffs n me
but now am worried bout voicey voice
tonite will be filmed
vishnu guide us through this night

strange days indeed mama
singing with the triffids
3 or 4 of best songs ever written
by anyone
how weird it is
i sit backstage and wait
backstage backstage
3 different dressing rooms
the triffids sit in their room with their families
mick harvey wanders in our room
phew! he says as he cops a faceful of my reefer
uh oh contact high!
i meet the real mccomb brother tonight
john mccomb oh a lovely gentleman
he gives me seal of approval…its important to me,understand?
i want everybodys blessing for this
as each person reassures me further and further
i throw myself deeper into these songs
im telling you if you aint heard born sandy devotional….
its one of the very best
it aint glam rock
it aint new wave or new romantic
it aint showbizzy schmaltzy dollops neither
i dunno what is that word?
some kinda intense authenticity
one of them old fashioned geniuses
you know young hotblooded prolific
doomed to die way too young
born sandy devotional
and im out there in those landscapes
the flatlands, the pines, the lonely stretches
anyhow
eventually my cue is given
in which mr miller the mc spins some yarn
hmmmm….
i go on
and wide open road starts up
that exact drum machine as on record
(and it doth sound good!)
the band kick in with that first big chord
the road opens up before me
i see it all the blue sky
the dark asphalt highway moves away into the distance
heat shimmer
feeling of revenge retribution
feeling of loneliness
i dont sing this one as well as i’d like to
whats stopping me then?
its just that….well…i dont know
nevertheless the crowd love this song
who wouldnt?
i dont wanna draw attention to myself really
i am there as a hired gun to do my job
which is
to sing these fucking songs in the spirit they were intended
namely
with passion intensity and (dare i say it) balls
balls as in no namby pamby malarkey
better to sing wrong notes
than to sing these numbers
with a limp wrist i guess
tho of course thats my own take
anyway the audience seem to like w.o.r(despite me)
next up
the band hits stolen property
the audience gasp with pleasure as they recognize the intro
i sing this one better
oh its a beautiful song
convoluted confused brilliant song that it is
a dialogue with himself?
what a pleasure to sing something like this
then lonely stretch
i go totally “off”
better than all other road songs put together
yes you can go to town on this
a lonely lo a lonely stretch
i exit stage right
yeah a big rounda a plause
after all these are 3 of the best
wait around a bit more
all hot n sweaty but no where to go go go
finally its encore time
we do field of glass
i go totally nuts in this one
shredding my larynx
not used to being rudely used like this
my throat sounds shot
what they hell
i put more into it
and it rasps and splinters like an olde time blues guy
oh
is this how its done…?
i was just trying to sing it like dave and um….
it came out like this/that
never mind
everyone seems to likey by crikey
seals of approval
cool
i split immediately
lift home with chris n ann marie
who are valve bouncing on the show
wow they really loved it!
wow
my second hit musical festival thingo in one week
if only life was always like this
ok
onwards
to
night
two

killer wakes before dawn
a wild night
sydney has turned cold and deserted
the wind bite bite bites
it comes in unexplained
all night long
the triffids songs go round in my troubled dreams
somethings got me so itchy
standing in the warping auditorium
im all mixed up
its all mixed up
im singing the wrong words
im leading the wrong life
it almost seems right and then…..
strange day the day before
took evie starr and the woofle to the beach
the sun is irradiating out there
oh ocean is soothing cold clear
i catch some little waves
woofle (looking more and more like dr seuss creature)
the woofle plays in the sand on the shore
in her pink zip up swim suit
occaisionally a wave reaches her and she breathes a ooohhhh!
she asks lotta questions all the time
dad whos that?
dad whats this?
dad where ya been?
shower ok , dad?
shops, dad, back soon?
last nite i held the woofle on the balcony
she’d been annoying the other 3 trying to watch something
we looked at the moonless sky
moon gone hinda clouds dad ?the woofle almost says
i start to sing moon river
she leans back away from me
and gives me a poignant meaningful look
like
oh that song….of all songs…!
then
she clings on tightly tightly to me
he face pressed dramatically into my neck
her chubby little arms squeezing for all theyre worth
scarlet is a super senser of anything marvellous
she acts like we’re an old married couple
and moon river is “our song”
i must admit i do a nice croony version of it
out there in the foggy night
wider than a mile…im crossing you in style, one day
something dave mccomb might have written almost
why does the woofle carry on like this?
shes been here before, baby
oh you cant get like that at 2
shes sentimental n nostalgic for times long past
she still feels her memories
buried deep deep down
she aint no first time arounder
(none of us are presumably)
anyway we stand on the balcony in the night
with the chalk and the little toys i keep treading on
with the withered vegetables in planterboxes
and fleshy shrubs
towels hanging on railing
kids swimmers carelessly hung
the beautiful white flowers in the garden next door
the diffused lights of sydney
my little woofle childe like a baby beethoven
her wild hair
her broad forehead
her deep blue eyes
that look out at you so knowingly
woofle i couldnt bear anything to happen to you
the rehearsals have been going well
im getting on very well with everyone
ricki says that everyones happy with me
oh i like that
oh i do like it when everyones happy with me
oh i want to please the triffids and the audience
mick harveys a lovely bloke and a good singer to boot
chris abrahams on piano
what an amazing piano player oh how i wish i could be like him
and he is
the sweetest nicest most ‘umble geezer
melanie oxley singing beautiful versions of daves songs
sister to jeremy n peter from sunnyboys fame
again a nother lovely person
toby from youth group
a big triff fan
a warm mellifluous voice
rob snarski a real singers singer a creamy voice
his brother mark deep and resonant on bury me deep in love
the triffs emselves are an idiosyncratic bunch
they are each perfectly apt on their respective instruments
graham lee running the show plays exquisite steel n lap guitar
jill on keyboards plays in a very triffidy way
she steps out to sing occaisionally
and raining pleasure is a show stopper
“in your arms i believe its raining pleasure”
marty on bass now in bad seeds with mick h
wow
a propelling bassist who drives the entire band
he just plays n plays n plays
instantly recognizable style
hes borrowing my bass cos its so good
alsy on drums is inventive thoughtful and unique
rob mccomb is just right on guitar violin n a mean harp
ricki is cramming cramming cramming to learn everything
im trying to take too much in at once he says
nonetheless hes coping well
mick harvey jumps in on the xylophone or vibes
its a small orchestra
a tall thin suntanned weathered looking geezer
prowls around snapping shots
i get it in my head that its the other mccomb brother
he checks me out occaisionally
steve miller from the moodists is there
as an m.c. i guess
a few people at rehearsals are surprised by my dedication
and the way im throwing myself into these songs
steve miller is one i guess
he enthusiastically shakes my hand after i belt out my numbers
“youre…..youre…..(grasping for a word)…good!”
thank steve i hope so
these songs are some of the best ever written in rock
we do field of glass the ten minute epic
including weird spoken n screamed passages
thats right scream
i turn into joe cocker spaniel in this one
after i finish field of glass rob jill n marty say good job
jesus… daves were big shoes to fill and i need encouragement
when i sing the songs however
something takes over
i get sent
“sent” a word my dad would use in humourous awe
when he saw a muso or singer going off his head whilst performing
“look slim, hes been sent” hed say n we’d have a laugh
now im getting sent with daves songs
i walk around trying to get a look at the “3rd mccomb”
he looks bit like rob n dave
but he looks like a wizard too
i see him deep in conversations with various triffid alumni
i suddenly deeply need his approval
oh i hope he likes how im trying to do these most important songs
then unexpectedly we’re introduced
steve do you know….i cant hear his name over music
the guy smiles his strange smile
he makes me feel like a kid
hello he says and shakes my hand
have you met before ? says someone
how could we ? says the guy
we only just got introduced!
he walks off
i still dont know who he is
is that another mccomb brother? i ask
much laughter
it turns out its bleddyn butcher
legendary
i do mean legendary photographer for english NME
he was photographer du decade in the eighties
hes writing a book on triffids
he took loads of pix of em back in the day
when they were feted as superstars in england
too much wild acclaim n too much record co pressure
their calenture record an equivalent of our gaf
all drum machine souless n underdone
fighting against idiots in record co etc
wow bleddyn butcher, huh?
gee hes an imposing kinda lookin’ character
anyway
various peoples approving of my field of glass
including mark snarski sending me up a little
cos i was overdoing the “satchmo” stuff
thats right satchmo
and if ya cant beleave yer urbane olde hero
is singing like satchmo get yer bum down the metro
sydney, nsw aust
thurs
fri
sat
sun
darling wife coming on sun night
should be real good by then
oh jericho!

orlrite you bloody lot
people’ve been bashing me bloody door down
people been accosting me in the street
the letters requests postcards emails telexes telegrams etc
never stop
give us steve kilbey live!
give us steve kilbey live?
give us steve kilbey live!
gw bush says gimme steve kilbey dead or live
ok
its a veil a bull
stevekilbeydvd.com
go ahead stop reading this blogge
and order a few dozen
get em while theyre hot
forget that absolutely terrible accoustic n intimate
this is the real deal
this is the one ya want
this is the one ya need
a real vid
with camera angles lightshow special feet-chas n everything
stevekilbeydvd.com
have that credit card ready and get ready to spend
youre gonna wanna loada these babies
this is not a cheap shonky vid like a+i
which went out before i’d seen it
when i saw it i stopped it
it is not a cheap but good vid like church 1992
which i like by the way yes i do
its rocknroll
anyway this is nice visually
a few jokes
a few songs
about 19 or 20 songs or something
you see me in the bath
you see me getting arrested
you see me being assassinated
you see me being embalmed
you see the hot juicy stuff they dont want ya to see
including the famous nude fat lady bicycle pump incident
youll see sk in all his glorious opulence
aboard the nz pms yacht sniffing coke with nuns
absailing in amsterdam
white water rafting in drought stricken victoria and laughing
sit around at kilbeys table as he entertains napoleon elvis n ricki maymi
watch kilbey write under the milky way again
youll see interviews with kilbeys ancestors in dark ages england
youll see kilbey trading riffs with beethoven mozart and fiery liszt
youll be amazed….or youre a total wanker
youll be absolutely satisfied 105%
or somebody somewhere
might
refund you
probably
(name and address)
zip
thats right
nothing ventured
nothing back offer
quite frankly
i think steve kilbey live
(hmmmm whatta great name for a vid!)
i think steve kilbey live
is the bees knees
its the last word
its the nail in the coffin of the rec biz
its a show biz miracle
its delight as a round shiny disc
its cooler than liq oxygen
and hotter than summer on mercury
kilbey talks
walks
he gives you tips on how to win millions
he explains how he got where he is now….THE TOP
he plays all his greatest hits
ju ju bang bang
hippy dribble bop song
mango womango we allgo
ungritted momentsworth
hoppy knock knock polka dot slot
ooma booma bonga bong bong
that ones by loo read ….oh i forget
he reads extracts of malt
he reads from his new book of recipes “vegan blechhh!”
he discusts his latest sandal foot bawl becks n posh n josh the pike
he implodes in slo mo and is reassembled out of kurts shank
matty d conceived directed and touched this vid
from an original idea by matty d
from an inkling by matty d
during a daydream by matty d
almost an afterthought by matty d
previously in matty d subconscious
matty d appears courtesy of matt davyddson ltd (wales div)
kurtains shank appears without any courtesy at all
paul lightfood appears curtsey of P inc
dutch pierre appears with courtesy of bondi police wanted doc
i’d like to thank new zealand film corp for the crisps
i’d like to thank my mother for the christmas pudding
i’d like to thank all the pests still continuing to bug my spam filter
i’d like to thank the ungrateful bastards who said i was washed up
jesus…you guys were right!
i’d like to shove this video up all the idiots who said i was
“a useless talented old wrinkled bore struggling to string 2 chords
together a voice like fingernails scraping on yer teeth
a face only a “mother” could love etc”
even though it was all true…
i’d like to thank rolling schtone maggyzeen
who said
“we did not review this junk
but if we did we’d probably ignore it”
anyway
hustler mag said
“unless kurt slips us a few k
or matty d stops painting all together
we think its rude!!!”
anyway
stevekilbeydvd.com
see what all the fluss is about
listen to it
watch it
love it
eat it
make love to/in/under/over/on/beside/all over it
yes
you gotta have it
steve kilbey live
OUT NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

erase
delete
put it outta its mizaree
you need garage poet
latest medieval caper
the worldy world all wordy and woolly
oh i flaunt it if i can get it
shackled in a tin of brimming dims
trackless shadow we have hunted
girls take off their close
the trees above
the trees below
blank stump
close to it now
youre getting warmer youre getting cooler
rain all day drizzle drizzle
in a bedroom she takes off her close
in a dull light
her white skin is revealed
laying down across the bed sleeping like a stone
the violet pricks in the grey sky
the holes where the creatures have abodes
the moles and mice and bats and pangolins
the fruity fruits the angel fruits the angels laughter
the juicy stain
the mark of cain
a god moves in a mysterious maze
vishnu appears as krishna
satan comes as a man of peace
jesus comes awalking on a water
i come knocking knocking knocking
blocking out all light
my profile cast suddenly against an oilskin screen
i send your delerious trash to mag. heaven
plus a copy to my lawyer
cos soon im getting nasty
the drizzle is so so softly soft soft
it lingers and hovers and floats and it dithers
it appears
in the thick air
in the holiday magic air
in the hotels and sex afternoons
in the wine and cheese informal dos
in the brothels subdued lights
in the surgery glare
the stern judge with his vacant eyes
the dead stars who would have clung to life
on mornings without any time it drizzles
in long evenings that become soaked
drink drink drink
people fall asleep one by one
lights go out in their eyes
their streets are one way
no limit beyond this point
no point beyond that
obvious things are hidden too
none of us sees things the same
i wanted i wanted i wanted
what did i get
what did i say
king john was right
im sure
after all he wassa kingright?
that goes without slaying
a bayou tapestry
look i am everyman
i am
i am every every every man
the every brothers
i am a man i am
a man a man a man
i was there
i saw it all
i was a fly onna wall
i coiled in bosoms nursed
the worst
a mean and hungry crook
a leaning plunging sook
hooked on a drug called hook
drugged on a dream
minding a seam
seeming to mind
behind behind behind
the times
the crimes
the erstwhile rhymes
ju ju bang bang
kilbey sang
azzee gonn mad they grinned
cos he sinned n sinned n got singed n winged
wingless n wild he fell from the sky
and exploded on ‘itting the ground
till he dyed
and then
they all
simply cried
what a hide!

in the dark
i stumble n lunge for cockroaches
i stand in kitchen n eat chocolate n sip soy milk
in the wild windy night
when everything becomes still
as the night contracts giving birth to the stars
spirits are abroad soaring through these skies to you
wailing wondering wonderful spirits
spirits of the dead
spirits of the stones you walk upon
spirits of the wood you burn
spirits of the nights you seed
spirits of the open wound
spirits in the distant hub
travelling underground along songlines
yes they sing sing sing themselves to you
like trains on astral tracks rushing towards you
the night is not white
no the night is not white
the night remembers oh it remembers
so it sighs and it moves through the curtains
and it mentions your names and the names of its gods
who are the winds gods you ask in your lovely way
tell me their names that i may chanta chanta chant to them
tell me the blames i must recant to them
tell me of the shames i have to rant to them
tell me of the games
tell me how the night will always love us so
tell me how the night will never let me go
go into it now go
the whispery nighty night night with its branchy fingers
the oozing night with its vanilla-y thrill
the groping night with its hands down your pants
the enveloping cloak of velvety eve
evening star shine and it breathe
pulse they do yes they do
yes they do
and they do and they do
the mercury stars in their tinny olde style
the warrior stars in their arrows n spears
all frozen and distantly scattered
as if it mattered where they fell in the black deep
at the bottom of the sky where they sink
into depths we never saw
leaving trails of comets and civilizations
before this after this you name it
you name it
you you you
you fool youre a genius
you clever dummy youre the brightest spark
youre the one one one
nightworks blackout darkcrumble hoofbeats raindrop brambledown
hawkstrike ripcrashing unenlightened beast-among-you
warren burrows rabbit run run run
go nights creatures in the meadows hide for godssake
run for cover
down your shelter
night awaits you
silent night creeping sleeping keeping on
violent night howling round the mountaintop
night ache-multiplier-magnifier
night writes this line
nightline straight from 2 am
woke me up up up
to talk to darkness
who can seldom say whats going on
i wait in wakeness weightless fateless
the night neither cares nor cries for you or Is
trust me the night is so cruel and sleek
like an eagles beak as it streaks behind your head
its talons tearing tufts of sweet baby curls oh no oh no
thats the night for you dont say i didnae warn you
summer you out there call the night by different names
but its the same olde night n its the same olde shames
clock tick tick never tock that clock
footsteps sssh listen frozen in fear you are a childe again
a horrible face you think you see watching you and me
ah thats just the moon ah thats justa sky
ah thats justa asteroid deep inner my
ah thats just lord vishnu with conch and his mace
and his lotus n disc n his beautiful face
aah thats just sweet nature with a smile honour face
thats just the trouble and time with this race
all of the people all over the place
as they run and they fall and they drift inter space
as they crash crush n rumble n tumble with grace
who scatters these stars all over the place
and the nightwind caresses the place on my back
where the chakras align along magnetic track
that leads to my headveins which pump endless black
and the seat of my soul at the back of the shack
where the skull at its deepest and ‘lectricity cracks
as the thoughts come together with a thump n a whack
clicketty clicketty clicketty clack
yeah the night is behind you
yeah the old night is back

ah
thank you sun-herald
a good review in the home town
today n yessaday rehearse with triffs
well you aint heard my voice like this before
i aint heard my voice like this before
the triffids #1 fan in sydney gives stamp of approval
band seem quite happy
im gonna sing 5 songs now
including epic doors-like field of glass
band are very nice calm types
everyone very friendly
enjoyingmyself
mick h from bad seeds
chris a from the necks
ricki from all those things he does
mark dawson from b.e. susans n ed koopa
killer from the whatsanames
yeah
its a big gig
im singing my heart n larynx out
stormy in sydney tonight
the triffids are great to sing with
god its exciting to sing these songs
fucking classics everyone
its worth ruining my throat for
how did he sing like that every night?
hmmmmm…
ok
2 days off now
must learn words
must learn words
must learn words

spent avo with ricki my-aim:me, yessaday
running over triffids songs im doing
funny i never broke the songs down into parts before
i never realised what happened where in arrangement terms
i didnt know all the words as such
nor did i care to
when” lonely stretch” came on
i was transported to the place
i was in the song
the words and music flew past outside the dream
i was with mccomb as he realised he was lost in that bush
oh the australian bush
oh the west australian bush
lost
getting cold
gotta be running out of petrol
whats out there
a crisis of faith
memories collide in the trees
in the pines
d mc n g mc
now both gone
i hit a lonely stretch
now i gotta sing this song
a wild ride
this song is one his very best
one of the very best
maybe you have to take that lost ride
through the scrubby trees and the dead wood stones
its like davids life is always passing before his eyes
in all his songs
hes lost in the bush
but he was lost before he found the bush
no one else would have ever written this song
any way i have to learn to sing it
i heard it a hundred times
but i didnt know the words
or recognize all the things that happen in there
after doing triffids all avo
we drop ricki off
and go to state
nk has not seen the show
we share some pre show nibblies
i get called off to a meeting
the director has some things to run over
he promises me that my cue wont fail tonite
isnt that one of the great lies of rocknroll …..
it’ll be working tonight……!
i say to very little laughter.
the show was a success
i watched drones from behind mixing desk……excellent stuff
i do my thing
i cant review it
in a way the odd man and song out
i am the most extremely european
i am outside looking in
i present london
for the ladies and gentlemen
i am the interpreter of carmodys words
i re-present them with a spin
i add my assent to his sentiments
i offer another way in to this song
my movements
my looks
my accent
my whole schtick
euro man
i echo his sentiments and amplify them
i show the audience another aspect
of kevs propensity for reinterpretation
i did my thing
people said it was good
i ponced around a bit
waving my hands about
etc
you had to be there
it was theatrical
greg weaver doing excellent sound for the gig
told me that as i waved my arms upwards
when i sang
these illusions
that a fluttery series of chorused echos was released
into the air around me
i had joked with him before
that i’d give him a hundred bucks
if he made me sound better than everyone else
i suppose you want that hundred now ?i asked apprehensively
uh-huh he said
everyone had a good night
i finally “got” the herd
i chatted to tex perkyns
and almost missed the grande finale
afterwoods
i waited for nk to appear backstage
she turned up n was feeling shy
and
suddenly
a thousand people
wanted to meet mr kev carmody
and his pals
so i slipped off into the night with my wife
we sat in a lantern lit park
and drank a couple of cold beers
nk had enjoyed my act
i get her to describe it over n over
pressing for arcane details
she enthusiastically recounts my exploits
and said yes
the drones were the best thing since the last best thing
and that the show had made her cry over n over
ah yes
it was the feelgood teary eyed musical hit of the year
good on ya kev carmody n paul kelly et al
uh oh
phone rings
the triffids require my presence at conservatorium
now

dear fiends and children of the knight
last nite a moving moving show
kev carmody that wonderful man….
everyone in tears
i was first to see kev in his dressing room after standing ovation
we just hugged and i cried…yes i did
i am only beginning to understand…..
understand what it could mean to him
a vindication
an aboriginal ghandi
a non violent man of gentle means
a river of tears 200 years
sk now has more invites to go visit
and hang out with these guys
stories of shape shifters and file snakes
stories of aboriginal bands playing unguarded moment
oh these people without guile
friendly generous
they go on forgiving even as the odds stack up
everybody in show fantastic
i had a slight glitch to my start
when my cue was repeated twice
i just stood there in front of 2500 people
like a spare prick at a prostitutes wedding
but then when i get to sing
i nail it
images of fucking london
kev has seen the dark satanic mills up close
that capital of strife and upheaval
and i turn it around to suit my purposes
i take his black words
spit them out of my white mouth
these images of london…these illusions
yes
these people who lived here before us
they were something special
they had a depth we can barely even understand existed
they care nothing for materialism
kev’d give ya his last ten bucks n not even think about it
whatta cryin’ shame
and the english
ah
we totally fucking ruined it
everything
im confused
i dont know
its a huge topic
its beyond my sphere
but last night
we struck a blow
swallowed our differences
we rocked for reconciliation
we honoured kev
and we honoured what he stands for
and we, as musicians, in our own way
we did what we could
and
thats all you can do
isnt it?