The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

neuman tramped along between the trees and ferns
it was a cold damp day ; already rain was spitting softly down
trees with the girth of small houses decorated with vines
boston ferns and elephant ears, fly traps and sweet red orchids
scraggly weeds caught half-heartedly at his feet
birds called somewhere faraway …he could never see them
on one side a hill studded with trees run up to the grey wintery sky
on the other a valley ran down to small clear creek with yellow sand
he thought he saw eels darting under black rocks
he thought he saw some small creature drink from the swirling waters
in front of him his brother max walked along
greying blond hair and a navy blue coat
neuman just walked and walked
seemed like he’d always been walking along in this place
he asked himself how he felt but found that he couldnt answer
he asked himself where he was going and he didnt really seem to know
max…he called out
max turned around slowly and stopped
he leant against a great moss covered green rock
which extruded from the undulating land
he brushed away some midges
rudy….? he said
max you can turn off the satori lounge now…he said
thats a good one… said max chuckling
no i mean it man said rudy becoming angry
turn it off max, turn it off now …he said
i cant turn it off said his brother rubbing his eyes
and i wouldnt even if i could……
neuman looked at the forest
he looked at the clear creek and the grey sky
at the lianas which curled and crumbled and strangled
he looked at the dark brown mud of the path
and the green and yellow stringy weeds
he looked at the dry dead ferns that crackled underfoot
and the serene pines that also made their home in here
what did this all mean…..?
this isnt the satori lounge rudy said max quietly
now what do you mean by that ?said rudy
i mean its not the satori lounge….thats what i mean
neuman thought bullshit! to himself
cmon max… he started to say
but his brother shook his head and started to walk
walk along through the trees and ferny hands of the forest
walking where and why?
just following on and on behind his brother in the gloom
he thought about the satori lounge
he remembered it did have a forest option on the settings
funny he’d never used it though
funny how the damn thing always had something new up its sleeve
max did you ever fiddle around with my alpine?
its not the satori lounge rudy… he shouted back over his shoulder
you did though , didnt you… neuman persisted
its not the satori rudy…….
did you or did you not fuck with my alpine settings?
max stopped
he turned around still shaking his head
he was blushing
i did i did play with your settings…
you little bastard…began neuman
but even though i did interrrupted max..this isnt that..
neuman was incensed
you imbecile!! he spat
thats it then ..said max throwing down his gloves on the path
thats what? said neuman incredulously
you find your own way out my dear brother this time said max
no you tell me what you did to my alpine
and i’ll know how to turn this off…
rudy this is not your fucking satori lounge….
no?
no…rudy…this is…errr…a forest…
what?….where….why….what do you…..
max got angry now :..dont ask me…im the imbecile remember!
they both stood there next to the green lichened boulder
that had rolled from who knows where
and who knows how long ago just
to be sitting here on the side of a hill within a deep forest
max had a flask of hot chocolate and a tiny cup
dont ask this imbecile for a drink he said to neuman
cmon max…i’m sorry ok….?
bullshit youre sorry rudy..you just want some hot chocolate…
he poured neuman a cup ….there you go old pal
neuman tasted it and made a face
awww…
i cant believe youve got the gall to complain about my hot chocolate!
..and i cant believe you fucked around with my alpines
after i explicitly told you not to! neuman replied
this is not satori lounge said max
then pray tell me max…what is it?
well rudy the truth is we are mixed up in some russian civil war
a few hundred years back
and we are deserters fleeing home…
neuman felt dizzy
he asked the question again into the still air
what did you do the alpine settings?
and once more max neuman answered him
in a cold steady sane voice
the voice of reason and truth
rudy,
this is not satori lounge!

tomorrow
how heyday was recorded in a ukrainian village in 1820

hey cats did you hear about the soul merge
they just released their second album on omega
the singer was put into orbit for possessing some glass
they were also behind that coup in sigh-am
they chained the lava-lover to the earthcrack
they nailed the skymaker to the starburn
they even connected the short-fuse without the octopamine
i know
youre saying slowdown killsy
what are you talking about…?
ok let me explain…it was like this…
(the screen goes all watery..a foreign city appears)
the deal with the memory board could never have happened…
rudy neuman knew that even as colonel daedalus signed the docu-tab
the prussians had sided with thrace during the leagues second convening
that left antarctica and armenia and algeria together
the triple a
the blockade of moral truth
somewhere hiding the youth serum.
neuman strode from the dr hans chrysler dome like a gazelle
neuman was dressed in gunmetal grey camo-suit
with a fake vinyl attache case and a shirt that changed colours
he buzzed open the portal to his ford aurora now modified z solar
he slid a cd into the slot and his favourite music started up
i am i am i am…..sang a voice….
i love this old stuff neuman thought to himself
as he accelerated down the zeitbahn towards cologne
he leaned forward and turned up the multi-screen
the image of a man surrounded by vegetation faded up
around the man blazed skulls while eyes watched out
the night has a thousand eyes thought neuman
white hippy moses like an aphid in the roses sang the voice
the bass guitar was hitting the speakers like a giants pulse
neuman turned up the volume
and a surge of distorted radiotronics filled the car
jesus h schmidt they didnt write songs like this anymore…
the weather was gloomy for july
fuck the climate… read a billboard..we’re building another earth
another said : unreal estate agents and smallgoods , grimm bros
a bmw dart zipped past like he was standing still
some future… neuman sneered
the song ended and another began
like a filigree diamond filched from a ring sang the voice
as neuman sucked up memorial drive past the vortex plant
he smoke a damiana cheroot and guzzled some arctix
he wondered what kohlhaze had done to klemmer
worse than murder….he laughed bitterly
as he turned into his driveway and down into the garage
neumans apartment was warm and still
luxury at every angle
each cranny filled with nooks
every space was empty and every object near solid
shadows waved gracefully and silently on the walls
the curtains were classic…
gossamer textile woven with fibre optic seemless
gold statuettes of the hindu pantheon with neonized eyes
carpets embedded by botticelli floors
windows trammeled in silverstitched leviathan
thresholds of mahogany rush
he’d been waiting all day for this
the satori lounge!

tomorrow
more of the fucking same!

went round jlks lastnite
singing on the 1st new GB3 track
short but very sweet
2 and a half minutes of guitar thrust with soft singing
this kind of ripple shoots down the music
it just pounds away straight ahead
glenn bennie is the guitarist and co writer
from the underground lovers
they made 6 or 7 amazing albums
literate melodic powerful original
i implore you to check them out
then glenn formed GB3 and i sang one track on their second lp
“emptiness is our business” (a line from my song)
the album is a real beauty
look i’m not just saying this
buy anything glenns been involved in and you’ll be happy
up there with caino n kennedy as a dude who can sling a track together
all of them unique…..3 very gifted writers
anyway i’m gonna sing all the songs on this one
except for ms nihill who always sings a few tracks on each gb record
(a lovely sad voice she has too…)
i’m very excited by this record and we’re off to a great start….!
start saving your shekels now…
and whatever you do
dont mention the esoteric music club….!
july is here…our midwinter….but today is sunny n warm-ish
got a bad cold and cough so no swimming
did yoga yesterday morning on my balcony as painkiller pumped
wow! its a rocknrolling record
it aint polite and it aint bashful neither
it throbs and it pounds
it doesnt stop to say excuse me, ma’am
it comes round yer house n it throws its feet up on the chairs
it smokes dope in front of yer granny and it uses rude language
it drives a souped up ford futura with skulls n dice
it drinks hard liquor and pans for gold in mexico
it dates fast women and it has a dagger concealed
it sneers at schmaltzy glitz n the olde trad thing
it throws things at boy bands
it falls asleep at the controls n you end up some place else
it wears olde style levis with hash burn holes
it wears velvet waistcoats and floral cravats
it wears board shorts with a tab of E in the pocket
it hangs around in beach shacks and chrome lined offices
it reads books by mozart and van gogh
it sounds like the roar of the ocean
it looks like the most desired thing
it smells acrid and sweet like opium smoke
it cant still still for olde fogeys or young pricks
it doesnt dig the hyper-bullshit media , no way
it doesnt watch its life away on some soap opera or quiz show
it plays guitar or hangs out near a dead volcano
it dreams about ancient crete and remembers lemuria
its masc closing in on fem
its plus moving into minus
its ying yang ding dong
baby its coz i love you so much
its everything minus nothing or vice versa
painkiller is a rubbery bass guitar in yer rear vision
painkiller is a kick up the ass with a buddha stick
painkiller is ricappoodly and a fandoogly
painkiller is the winner of this years cup
painkiller to defeat the all-blacks
painkiller at wembley n superbowl n mega-dome
painkiller involved in drive-by love-ins
painkiller involved in disappearance of tyrant
painkiller for nobel prize and playboy centrefold
painkiller invents cool
painkiller writes a book with kerro-whack
painkiller marries yoko ono
painkiller jams with alfred the great
painkiller all over versaces winter line
painkiller snorting blow with che down in bo-livia
painkiller faking moon landing
painkiller going to neal genges place after school
painkiller knows your girlfriend better than you think
painkiller reads your mind …so mind!
painkiller stole your sunglasses at the pool
painkiller hotwired your corvette and took it for a spin
painkiller is a transdimensional bleeder
painkiller sleeps under a she-oak
painkiller oh cant you just wait
you need it so bad…you can almost hear it
listen
theres outbound
its starting up
its all systems go
hang on to yer knickers
we are leaving this world today
painkillers in yer system
painkiller keep this pain away
painkiller soothe me soothe me
king painkiller deliver me
painkiller so kind and suave
painkiller you sophisticated primitive
you electronic organic
you guitar drenched monster tottering on a g string
you reverberating sturm und drang
you withering glance of destiny
you perfect panacea
take away this pain
HELP ME
PAINKILLER*

* available soom

between my deaths
moments in dreams realm
life upon life upon life
warm evenings with good companions
let the wine flow
let the smoke drift from our lips
let wounds be healed
let oblivion be negated
even sleep brings its best wishes
tumbledown houses in summer fields
the cuckoo calls in saxony
i must wander hither
yes this holy land of allemagne
her lovely forests
where there lies no danger to man
no crawling snake or angry beast
her lovely forests in summer which overcome me
her trees so full of spirit
her blue skies so gentle to the eyes
her memories of snow and ice
her castles and her rivers
her deep valleys so green and peaceful
i am a minstrel
i am a merchant
i am a man-at-arms
i am a bohemian master who paints the lord in gold
i am an old man begging outside the kunsthalle in koln
i am a woman gathering potent herbs in the moonlight
i am dr johannes cuspinian with my red book of spells
i am a man who works in the orchards
i am a student from berlin
i am a swan in an ancient lake
i am stefan zeitmann a travelling magus
i am gertrude weiss the jugglers wife
i am an owl in a barn
i am a deer in a hazy field
i am a bird in a sleepy copse
i am a fool for my lady’s love in the springtime
and we rove through the mossy glades and
carve our one thousand names in the white trees there
we drink red beer and eat black bread
we row a boat across the quiet waters at night
when the graves give up their ghosts
we see the heroes of old …siegfried and others
fafnir whispers the windless dark
july is a feast under the stars
our friends from the villages drunk and merry
this is real life, my comrades
drink to the distant moon
drink to love and its many songs
drink to the forest with its dreaming trees
drink to the river and its silver fish
drink to the roses in grandmas garden
drink to the wild raspberries in the hedge
i am a boatman on the rhine
i am a fieldmouse nibbling the corn
i am a dancer round a fire on a hill
i am the sound of a drum
strange towers on craggy peaks containing scholars
they trace the comets arc
they dabble in alchemy
they predict the weathers moods
they eat yellow cheese and drink purple wine
they wear robes and gowns
they animate a homunculus
they resurrected a hare from death
and translate arabic texts concerning sexual pleasure
the servants boy plays in the long corridors
he listens at doors as darkness falls
he hears the laughter and arguments
the lovers lie entwined in soft beds
they coo and sigh in loves delicious play
they speak soft winged words of delight
and children are conceived with golden hair and brown eyes
the lovers in the cities by candlelight
the lovers in the country by moonlight
the old ladies packing up their market stalls in the square
the inn bursting with workers who just got paid
the lovely and serene night walks abroad
my germany is content
all the wars are over
the king is kind and just
ruling in Christs name but remembering the old ways
the queen is beautiful and generous
she glides through the forests on evenings like these
she drifts through the glades in her raptured fog
she swims in the black lake naked and unattended
her husband watches unseen from the trees
watches her whiteness disappear under the surface
watches her loll on the still warm rocks
watches her move in her trance
watches the ripples race away from her feet
watches the water run down her back
watches the moonlight in her eyes
watches the clouds and the moons pink aureole
watches the cygnets sleeping in the reeds
watches the oak shiver within the acorn
watches the sunlight in the sap
watches the trout leap in the twilight
so sleep now
so sleep and dream of my germany
hidden in warm memory
softly packed in some longago summer
safely stored in my soul forever

lost for words
the day comes finds me thinskinned
vulnerable and feeling queazy
got no more appetite
got no idea

i frighten myself
read the paper
wish i was as sure of myself as the writers
proclaiming this and that
the right prods the left
the left prods the right
sports…..YAWN…
music: daniel johns is a genius! yeah…sure he is
just like kylie minotaur obe (for services to music…
future generations will benefit from her huge advances)
(i mean…what a fucking joke!)
politics : sleazy and tedious simultaneously
religion :the popes coming…doesnt he smoke dope…?
the world : getting warmer…getting warmer..getting hot
piers akerman the human toad blathers on
piggy kyle handshandilands is getting married …
gee sweetheart make sure you get a prenuptial on that
obama sin laden
harry pottermus
whizz the human tiddlywink
is this a fictional world or what…?
prince charles……what an ugly bastard
i’d make a much better king than him
imagine me with a nice big crown handing out
my 20 cent tin medals to uh..danni min-ogre
or uh…brian mc fudgeon ..or ah…the veronicas
imagine me digging my spurs into some horses side
as i club the last remaining fox in england to death
with my polo stick
imagine me in balmoral sitting on my throne wasted and crazy
pumping out prose poems like a royal rimbaud
and hey lemme tell ya that nk would be a much saucier queen
than olde park ‘er-bowels…even tho shes american
hey i can talk in that silly accent chas talks in too
but i bet he cant talk australian like me …
imagine me …i’d have someone beheaded
i’d invite say robbie willy-ams over
hey robbie…its ah king kilbey here..
ah im dishing out some fiefdoms…yeah…want one?
then when the little rascal gets to the castle
you get the beefeaters
(whom i now name the tempeh-eaters)
or the coldsplay guards to nab him
sorry robbie …this is actually an execution, olde bean…
and give ‘im the axe
imagine me the king of england opening bridge games
and invading india again
i’d change the flag to an aum sign on a weed leaf
i’d set the corgis free and have dingos as the palace pets
i’d give the drivers the night off
and hoon around london dropping wheelies
pumping painkiller in the rollers great sound system
and crashing into traffic lights
imagine me in my kilt…oh my legs are a hundred times sexier
imagine me with my sceptre ….i’m gonna get fender to build me one
imagine me with my vassals and tassels
with my medals for wars i never been in
with my big gay epaulettes like a general in the olde days
rear admiral of the fleet fleet
vice captain of the regal scam
lord of the sinkholes
chairman of the board to appoint a chairman
custodian of cowardly custard
arch duke of n.bondi
prince of blends
king of diamond geezers
imagine me in the house o’ lords
with my krishna tshirt and my kmart shorts and my blunnies
man i’d shake those boring old bastards up
are you kidding me…?
imagine me in westminster abbey road
rehearsing with the c
and the boys clowning around in some old armour
imagine me at christmas time appearing on yer screen
king killers krissy message
instead of face-ache charlie
you got my lovely visage
I dont have big ears or a big nose or a big bald patch
I got gold earrings and a lovely white beard
like a king from days of olde
people wouldnt wanna get rid of the monarchy-malarkey
if they had kings like me
you know handsome olde and stately
a yoga doing dope smoking king
a king of love and sexy nights with the queen listening to the bjm
a king who tripped and rocked
a king who looked like a king but lasted all knight
a king who could write poetry and paint pictures
a king as high and mighty as you like
or as common or garden as you wanted
king of australia and canada too…hmmm
i’d be on canadian money dressed in a paisley shirt
a dope leaf instead of a maple leaf i reckon
king of toronto and lord of ottawa…gee
i reckon if i was king of ingland america would come back
back into the fold
they only bailed because of mad king george
if i had been king we’d all still be joined up
imagine that you english lot
we’d still have bloody america
elvis woulda been a pom and spoke like shaun ryder
bruce springsteen would have written his songs about cardiff
muddy waters mighta been a white guy
whose real name was roger snodgrass who was an accountant
abe lincoln could have joined the smiths
ben franklin would have invented electricity in middlesex
(fucking middlesex…i ask you!!??)
yes
its not to late
i still think
if i was made king
even at this late stage of the game
(overnight monarch…i can see it now)
i could still entice america back
at least most of the east coast
it might be harder getting hawaii
i’d just deal with em like the olde days then..
alaska….nah…you can keep that
and all the really cold bits of canada
and im putting an end to the parlay voo fronsay over in quebec
(which i’m renaming stevenland)
i’m putting coach murdock in charge up there
he can be my chamberlain
and he can biff any fruity courtiers
or any bishops with revolutions up their habits
im gonna put davem in charge of religion
the church of england
will now be the church of the church
archbishop st mullard arise
..mr humphreys will now kiss your mitre 10 times
in australia i’d get some women in charge
mainly to piss off all the chauvo-pigs in the biz
yeah maybe bring holly down
kick some sydney butt ohio-style
paul lightfoot will be gee gee of nz
with matty d minister for honey
i’d get polinski as prince of victoria
and make sure he executed at least 50 peasants a day
imposed unreasonable taxes
and took the virginity of all the fairest maidens
we need some old style kingmanship these days
no wonder the serfs up
no wonder the country folk are revolting
i could be king
the king and i
crown me quick i’m the regent being
king time
the royal mange and princely panther
the bass playing emperor over the seas
the jack of all trades
the knight of the oriental order of the dawn
the duke of hazard (lite)
the count yermoney
the marquis de muggles
the big bad royal daddy
someone get wise
put me on the fucking throne for godssakes
england finally needs me…as king
king steven the just (as good)
king steven the wise (guy)
king steven the hippy
oh ao ao ia iacocca
spread joyous tidings
a good king has come
hurrah hurrah
space rock for the poor
let water be free tonight
breathe all the air you like courtesy of the new lovely king
oh see him on the stamps
or back his falcon up some ramps to the amps
he can sing he can rule he aint no fool
go my people
spread the word
kilbey for king
kilbey for king
kilbey forking hell

look
i listened to coldplay yessaday
i was at space junk 3 working on the c
when i said to tim
a whole lotta fiendss been saying gwynnies boy
been borrowing our groove…
the thunderous though diminutive lord of percussion
swung around in his chair
by some chance the album was lying on the floor of the studio
we bunged on the track “yes”
nothing so far…hmmm
we look at each other
suddenly
uh oh
we gotta severe case of church-itis
or is that how he hasta sing when hes down low?
tims eyes were widening
good lord its like a cross between 2 of your melodies he said
as his voice goes up into his normal range its obviously young christopher
but when it sinks down its…its..its nevets yeblik
well there you go
did any one here ever hear this record where these guys took utmw
and set different words to it….was it shed seven…oh ha ha ha
now i have read a few reviews of coldplay where the c has been invoked
i never really thought it myself until i heard this
i mean, c’mon , if that aint me, then blow me down with a feather
look i dont mind em
i like some of their songs
i’m glad hes gotta bit of me in there at last
wait till you hear the churches new record
i imitate every great singer there is
all in the first line of the first song
i’m flattered and i’m happy
he can lay a million quid on me and i’ll be even happier
funny though aint it i said to timbo
this record which sounds not unlike us will get played everywhere
while our record which sounds not unlike us
will probably never get played nowhere
thats just the way it is
a station who flogs this song would never play us
and thats just the way it is
and we have mega fans in high places
and they cant help us
and thats just the way it is
i see people asking why we never played a peel session
peel didnt like us one bit
and thats just the way it is too
its too late now
we are old and obscure
our last hit was 20 years ago
our only hit was twenty years ago
there are no “shoulds” in rocknroll
theres only the fickle finger of fate
the ebb n flow of popularity that no one may track
lets never forget this
i fucked it all up for myself
ok
take a deep breath
and say
(it may be hard to …but do it)
steve fucked it up for himself
there…lets get it out there in the open
gold avo fix was an ok album
when what we needed a decider…
we shoulda given em priest =aura next
but i lost focus
i lost concentration
i was duplicitous
i was too caught up in arguing and theorizing
i was arrogant and pig headed
i just went along with stupid ideas
i let people who didnt understand run the show
and finally i got into the gear
which exacerbated everything a 100%
i had my chance
how many chances you think they give out?
i had my chance and i severely n thoroughly blue it
none of this has much to do with actual music per se
gaf was mediocre
priest was a towering masterpiece
you want the “big music”?
you want wide screen wall to wall rock?
of course the idiots at the time hated it
funny enough people say to me edder veddie likes the church
and grave dohl too
two of grunges leading lights
people say radiohead too
hey im sure they listened to all the guitar bands just like us
me…?
i try n sing like a mixture of johnny winston o boogie
and louis reid and david jones and bobby z and these days
nevets yeblik coming to the fore
i dont begrudge coldplay their dew
hes a talented bloke aint he?
hes a good n proper singer aint he?
yellow was good wasnt it? i liked it n so did the doodles
reserve your ire for the truly worthless
(insert their names here)
(i dont dare in case i meet em)
ok
im gonna end on another case of instant fucking karma
im standing there checking out at the hoity toity hotel in melb
a mate of mine was checking out too
no party for you olde bean ..he asked through his hangover
nah i said i didnt wanna get stuck talking to….
my mate filled in the sentence for me:
…some awful biz type like…um…roger kaputnick..ha ha!
oh yes roger kaputnick! i laughed tho i had never met roger at all
we both had a good laugh
roger fucking kaputnick ha ha ha oh tee hee hee!
i stride across the foyer
a man approacheth me its…no..why..its..
oh..ah hello roger….
steve? i just wanted to say you were really the bees knees last night..!
he shook my hand warmly and walked away
damn! when will i ever learn..
then
my hungover mate lost ‘is bloody mobile phone…aawwww!
guess who found it n returned it to him?
roger kaputnick!
thats right
how did you think i felt then?
foolish!

chance rains down in little whims
attracting and repelling luck
like everything its relative
i hate a bad haircut says the whispy haired geezer
i’d love a bad haircut says the bald guy
i hate my stupid husband says the pretty wife
i’d love him thinks the plain old spinster
i hate broccoli says western brat
we will eat it say countless african children
i dont know who to envy
i cant read my luck anymore
i can decide if i’m lucky or not
i’m lucky to be alive
i’m lucky to be around still
i’m lucky i’m not crippled or misshapen
i’m lucky i can cope with this system
i’m lucky i grew up in a western land during times of peace
i’m lucky i grew up and was never persecuted or hunted
i’m lucky my parents were both good and kind to me
i’m lucky i was never abused or victimised
i’m lucky i squeezed a career out of something like music
i’m lucky i got to make records n tour the bloody world
im lucky to have a sweet wife and my own lovely children
i still got my mum
i got 2 brothers who are very nice
a pretty niece, 2 handsome nephews
enough friends to do me….im not that friendly really
i’d rather paint than sit n chat actually
the blokes in the church well theyre more than friends
and they are there for me and always have been…sorta
we all love/hate each other in varying degrees
people go in and out of favour
alliances formed
quarrels picked
things get resolved
me and tim
we hadda lotta arguments at the start
jesus we were going at it
he was right sometimes too
he used to prod us to continue to change and evolve
but in my lazy junky days
the last thing i wanted to do was to learn a new song
we were both unlucky to be in a band with an argumentative bastard
now we’re lucky cos we’ve got a style
we’ve got a modus operandi
i walked into tims studio last may
i had 2 short songs and that was it
start up the tape machine i said (although there was none)
i started playing the bass
tch tch tch went the click track
william called down the radiotronic spirits
tim at the controls
then he plays drums
i play ac. guitar
i play e guitar
tim chucks some mellotron
i chuck on some singing
bang quick as that
first takes mostly
written on the spot
they all turned into songs
yesterday i came home and nk was excited
she’d been alone at home and she had just listened to painkiller
for the 1st time
of course she’d heard individual songs
but this is the mastered put to gether real thing
ooh its got a chunky bite size sound
polinski if youre reading these words
you did good my old son
you made it big
im lucky to know these guys
i am i am iam
now nk was dancing and bopping
she had even made notes that i wasnt allowed to read
she has promised to review it on here but we shall see
nelg and g nunn have unmastered copies
they will be surprised to hear the lovely veneer mastering puts on
i think i am gonna use the vegetalista as the cover
i was lucky someone bought it
now they will be lucky maybe
because as an album cover the painting might go up in value
its the best painting ive ever done so far so thats a good reason
its quite alive
its quite writhing and rubbing
im lucky i persevered at painting
im lucky people supported my burgeoning paintings
im lucky i had a place to start doing it
think of all the van goghs sitting before their easels right now
painting masterpieces no one will ever see
think of all the great guitarists and drummers no one will ever hear
the actors dancers playwrights sculptors who never make it
its a capricious world out there
being good isnt always enough
better to be lucky than good
better to be lucky than anything actually
hey everyone deluging me with emails about coldplay
good luck to em
if they can take any elements of the church n make money from em…
go for it….we couldnt do it…you may as well
no i aint heard it yet
i dont really care if it is or isnt
everythings fair game
i rip people off in every note i play
and they were copying someone else
what about the stones ridiculous southern accents
and their re appropriation of the blues
what about david bowies complete steal from anthony newley
and dylan too
theres no pure originality
its all mixed up
therefore
why worry?
youre lucky to be reading this at all!

thursday
my moment in the sun over
wake up with a horrible cold
time running out like it always has
the clock hammers at it
throwing minutes out into the room
the sixties become the eighties
the eighties become 2008
and even that is now over more than halfway
old age waiting for us all
then
mysterious death…
white light
or
black out
what of our individuality
what will survive…?
what will go on
something
something will prevail…..
outside the weather is cold bright and windy
a huge whale breaches the surface of the sea
leaping unexpectedly into the sky
falling back with a colossal splash
japanese tourists watching at the sealine
the woofles blondish curls dance in the wind
this morning i played moon river for her
the original version from 63
its moon river …i like this song says the woofle
she flashes her eyes and gives me a long thoughtful kiss
of course being the type of olde hippie that i am
and a believer in reincarnation
i’m presuming the woofle heard this in her last life
cos this song sure makes her go strange
she demands an immediate replay
calling in her mother
listen mum..its moon river….are you ready..
when a third play doesnt happen
she breaks down, inconsolable
go away she weeps when i play the las” there she goes”
how could a kid like scarlet love this old song so much?
its july now
i dont know what the future holds
i dont know if the church is touring or what
but i went round polinskis laundry goat studios
and he played me the completed thing of p.killer
and he handed over the master tapes (so to speak)
i must say that he has done a sterling job..as is to be expected
i cant tell you how nice it is to have people you trust
if im singing a song and tim says its good or bad i can trust ‘im
if im getting a haircut or having my painting filmed i call in nelg
nelg knows how to cut my wispy hair and its a relief
a bad haircut or an unsuitable one can be very demoralising
polinski knows how to mix music and thats a relief
other people like m kennedy
and g bennie
and caino
they know how to write music for songs
thats a relief
my brother john
good at b vox…thats a relief too
anyway painkiller should be coming soon
and thats a real relief
maybe we’ll even gig a bite or two
the future is unwritten
just like my next song
somedays i feel like its gonna be ok
otherdays seems so black
just like everyone of course
love
sk

and then someone said
hey stevie k come n play
oh no not i i said
feeling churlish and undomesticated
oh ho they said
would you play the real thing
stevie ks pointy ears pricked up maliciously
you mean ummau ummau ummau real thing
yes my man
the very psychedelicest oz rock classic
and then some my friend
as well as
why not sing that sublimest song
wide open road….?
the very same
that means 2 oz rock classics i will do
yes yes
so i find myself in old melbourbon
the fucking town hall…no less if you like, mr christian
i find meself staying at oh such a lah de dah hote-tell
what a view our little stevies got, eh auntie lou
ooh err he can see all the way to the sea
hes done well our little lad then…our steven john?
by looks of ‘is ‘otel hes done real well
anyway he goes to his rehearsals
and lo
it was full of nice blokes
nice blokes following:
all the triffids
all russell morris band….
everyone associated with the musick biz
john laws gotta lifetime achievement award
cried?…sorry my onion wasnt working
i see the ex leader of the hippo-sition
kim beazley m.p.
hes wandering around
i said to timmy p
you wanna see me razz kimmy bees-lee?
yeap says tp
i go up to kimbo
hey jesus christ
its kim beazley and i shake his hand
hello says the big fella pleased to be recognized here
kim beazley im saying in wonderment
i loved that second album you did…when you kicked those other guys out
the big fella took it well
yeah yeah he laughed
then they kicked me outta the group eventually too…ha ha
(note to non oz residents beazley was deposed as leader of labor)
i smoke a joint in front of dame judith durham
i see keith potger and talk to rolf harris
i see james reyne in the toilets
we dont really dig each other i guess
hi james i say as i do a wee wee
blah blah blah
finally time to go on with russell morris
if you aint heard the real thing
get it
download it
this is a bona fide oz masterpiece
2 years too late
but as good as anything any body bar the beatles ever did
i strapped on me fender
boom boom boom
out go my legs in yoga poses
i straddle the stage
i make some mistakes
but hey what the fuck
im playing the real thing with russell morris
our hammonds gone down
but me n tp are kicking it along
umma ummau ummau ummau mau mao mow mao wow
boom boom boom goes slimbo n timbo
a three piece girl choir singing along
the piano players bangin’ those 88s
hey paul in canberra..thats me up there with russell
hey paul from moorabin..thats me playing the bass
what a thrill to relive these moments of perpetual past
i strap on my axe like a gnarled old gladiator
i wade into the thick of music
like a warrior
the bass is a like a bazooka
it is the great leveller
the bottom line
and we pumped it out baby chunky and delicious
then i hang about
the red faced big bellied boozers slap each others gucci’d backs
and congratulate each other on being there
the fat cats n execs
the perennial old boors and braggarts
the characters too
the lovable louts and the bullies with hearts of gold
but
an inevitable gulf exists between me n them
their boozy steaky bigtalk world is not mine
i am literally too sensitive to deal with em
so i just ignore em
i make music
they cant n dont
so good luck to em
for being so rich n powerful
but ha ha
i gotta laugh at you boys
you aint a pretty sight
meanwhile the triffs finally get on
nick cave inducts em from london
(wow! high praise indeed)
wide open road comes up
you know i love it
you know i wished i wrote it
maybe YOU didnt wish i did but i wish i did
i’m learning to sing it
i throw myself into it
i give it my all
i rip up my throat
i pour out my self
i put myself on the line
i sing this wonderful song with everything i got
whilst observing its strict timing and phrasing
i do good
we do good
people throw the word charisma at me afterwoods
shucks…who….me?…nah
the press are all over us in a flash
seriously in a room with 20 photographers
the triffids all holding their statuettes
the junky buried within says in my mind
oh boy you could hock one of those for a lot..
the press all like me
they take some individual shots of me
and they say complimentary things
thank you
thank you
glad i could brighton up the hall of foam this year folks
after show party stevie k?
no thanks my fiendss
not for this olde renaissance man
300 biz types in one place
all inebriated n gushing bullshit to each other
fuck no
i’d rather write my blog
anyday
who needs em?
tomorrow i fly home
no gigs in the future
hoping the triffids do play in mel n perf next year
russell morris knows where to find me
the roadcrew were magnificent
the caterers were cool
blah blah
its over
good night