The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

i run about weirdly
my world has devolved into a 3 dimensional slop
small weird creatures struggle and fight to be free of it
i never thought things could get so weird
i never thought things could be so strange
i never thought i guess
i never thought such thoughtless things
the cosmic all shudders to spit it all out
the universe convulses as it expels us
and we lie at last
outside
outside of what? someone asks
why come here for the answers? someone else says
i think i know that voice
says another voice
i’m in another room says a fourth voice
i’m in another story…..
i wonder if there are any taxis out there
i got 9 dollars in my pocket…change from lunch
the clouds part for a moment
soft white sunlight pours down
i hit the road forward
and i keep on walkin’
what else is there to do?

the centre cannot hold
the falcon cannot hear the panther
the rough beasts are slouching about all over the place
among us walk the others
you know who they are
yes
you know who they are
the vanishers
the hard to remember now
the distant thoughts
mr weird, remember him?
i thought i was making all that up
but no
look i’m writing about him again
just on the verge of something big
just riding my mind till it can come up with something
just belting along down the alphabet
mr weird assembles himself in letters and light
out back in his day/night club
open all hours except …
is this where we’re rehearsing today?
some sullen roadie bumps in some gear
some tired geezer stands before a drink machine
insurance jobs blow up in the street
who cares?
my felafel n chips are making me sick
oh this is all so noir…..
i change the channel to some happier thing
little butterflies in an enchanted wood
spring suddenly drains out of the world
autumn arrives looking stern and unapproachable
unlikely considering everything
but who can really consider everything
my guitar gently cries mary and joseph
my bass hums with a life of its own
my drums rat a tat tat
mr weird stops in with a cawfee n a bagel
am i in america now? i ask naively
youre so mixed up says someone
yeah says mr weird
youre so mixed up
hes yer friend says someone new
yeah thats right says mr weird
what are you playing today?
well we’re playing um……something…
yeah yeah great says weird
youre a smart fucking bastard arent you?
i check him out
he seems to change a bit you know
tall and long or towering over me
wow his eyes are something else
he picks up a drumstick n it breaks
aw he says
a phone rings
he walks away
lucky for you he says over his shoulder
i change the channel
dont do that says weird his face full flat on the screen
i try again
the butterflies the wood
weird appeared walking thru the wood
when you gonna learn steven? he says
this whole thing is stacked against you
you cant win
you dont wanna win
theres no winners
i’m just here to set ya straight thats all
weird sighed
try being me he said
i wouldnt mind that i say absentmindedly
ok he says
its morning then
i looked myself in the mirror
i am weird
i am him
i am he
he is me
ok
i say
now i’m gonna try being weird

rehearse n rehearse
my brain tries to disentangle lyrics n bass lines
i play bass n e guitar n acc guitar
i sing one song without any instrument round my neck
we have a guest keyboardist craig
whoi is 21 n must be amused playing with these grandads
hes bloody good tho
and does his thing without much fuss
we’re doing 5 new songs off untitled 23
ricky comes in with us
its his last day in australia n hes a bit sad i guess
we pick up the david neil album
wow its gonna be a big mastering job that one
its got a bit of a boomy sound
the songs sound good tho
very happy with the songs
david neil would definitely approve
just the sounds a bit murky
ricky n i play the disc over n over at the rehearsals during the break
the others musta got sick of that, right?
we have take away thai food for din-dins
i play it safe with a double order of tofu in pee-nut sauce
i drink one mother energy drink
i have a few coffees (my new vice…ooooohhh!)
the church revisit a few old songs
they sound better than they did then
i was a head of my thyme
wouldnt you say…?
we run thru the whole set once
uh huh….i’m across it
i know all my notes chords words n whatever
clever olde mee
drive home and say goodbye to our mr ricky
how sad
will we be seeing him sooner or later
hes promised me a little plot of land i can retire to
in no-cal
amongst the redwoods n the purple heads
my own little shed
i’ll paint till my 99th birthday
each morning ricky will bring me my healthy brekky
n a little bunch of native flowers
we will sit in the stillness of that future morning
listening to some droning future music
and i’ll notice my death has turned up for me
looking just like jessica lange in all that jazz
smiling n beckoning me to follow
i’ll waltz outta the door
suddenly young again
suddenly all spritely like i was at …uh ..54
and i just disappear into the lovely ether
ok?

i hadda really good dad once
yeah sure i know you know
gee i was really lucky
cos i seen some other dads in action
violent little twerps
or
distant aloof patriachs
or
drunken stupid brutes
my dad was none of these
my dad was like realer than fucking real
when i cut my eye open
and the quack was stitching my head back up
when my dad arrived
and took my hand
it was suddenly alright
d’ya know what i mean
my dad walked in and it was ok
in his always slightly ill fitting clothes
and his cheerful cockerney accent
my dad was larger than life and everybody loved ‘im
he shoulda had his own tv show
he had everyone laughing all the time
god i know i told you that
but its his birthday
and i aint seen him for 33 years now
and i wish he could put in an appearance
for a bit of guidance or whatever
he was always right
” watch those geezers…theyre gonna cheat ya!” (they did)
“dont drive like that..you’ll crash!” (i did)
” if ya ever need something…i’m yer man!” (he was)
etc
he was pretty cheerful
and he rarely succumbed to the blues
he made do with what he had
and he didnt lust after fame or wealth or position
he was content with his lot and he worked six days a week
he did lots of stupid dopey things
especially when it came to anything to do with painting
eg housepainting or respraying yer car
my dad had a morris major which he re did in every colour
if a fly or spider was on the wall or car
they were permanently a part of it
my dad was a bit impatient
he didnt like instructions
he didnt like waiting for paint to dry
he didnt like my long hair or my noisy guitars
he did like ginger bakers drum solo on blind faith however
my dad loved piano drums n trumpets..just like the old days
my dad liked boogie woogie piano
my dad loved driving n driving
my dad didnt like exercise at all
my dad was hooked on cigs since he was a kid
he smoked benson n hedges n 20 rothmans please
my dad didnt like brown clothes
he liked white socks not black ones
my dad did not like healthy food
my dad liked to give gifts but not receive em
my dad loved christmas day
my dad always had a fresh woody old spicey smell
my dad only donged me a cuppla times..n i really deserved it
my dad tried to make people feel at home
my dad loved world championship wrestling
my dad didnt like yoko ono or germaine greer
my dad didnt like cowboy movies or john wayne
my dad liked german guys
n scottish guys whom he always called jock
he called welsh blokes taffy
n irish guys paddy
i wonder how they felt about that…or is it a war thing?
my dad fought in ww2
he didnt talk about it much
except that he played piano in the mess hall n at parties
i can fucking see ‘im now
his marine cap on at a jaunty angle
the ever present fag dangling out his gob
a crooked grin
bad teeth
banging out something in f # my dads favourite n only key
a bit of a ladies man
a bit of a jack the lad
a bit of a bodgie
a bit of a softie
how lucky was i to have an old man like that?
one of the good guys
he could speak a bit of french
he was good with a camera n dark rooms
he could draw n paint n he loved music
“son…marry anyone…AS LONG AS SHE LOVES MUSIC!”
yeah my dad was a diamond geezer before they invented em
a good samaritan
a nice neighbour
a generous bloke
jesus he made me feel safe
nothing bad was gonna happen
cos my olde dad was here
yeah he drove us through bushfires in the fifties n sixties
fucking great trees flaming n crashing around us
but i lay in the back of our morris minor (before the major)
and felt that he must somehow know what he was doing
he just “flattened the bastard” “pedalling like the clappers”
and we zigzagged down those burning highways
cos we were english in a strange land
and dad wanted to get to bloody melbourne for christmas
dad didnt like snootiness or snobbishness
he ridiculed our rellies graces n airs
he kept you level headed
he was no social climber
he didnt give a toss about the classes
either you were a good bloke or you werent
he hated blokes who were “slow to get their bleedin’ wallets out”
and he paid up for most people most times
jesus i guess hed be like 86 or 87 today
i dunno
i dont think he woulda liked old age that much
especially as he didnt keep fit
i often envy him
in a way
his sudden exit
no hospitals
no quacks
no dementia or cancer
bang
he just checked out quick
no regrets for him i guess
the good die young
what wozzie…52.. 53?
ok
thats enuff
everyone should worship their dad the way i worship mine
if theyre good fathers then youre set for life
its a huge gig
n most fall short of the mark
old les kilbey tho
he was one good daddy!

i dont feel any different
the substances have no effect
i’m surprised to learn i’m not perfect
i’m surprised to see that i was only jokin’
i walk to school in my uniform and my nice hair
i do my lessons and i slowly grow up
i always nice to peoples mothers and sew polite
i wash up my plate and i in bed early like a good un
at age 13 i discover i can astral travel and i go mad
at age 14 i pick up the bass guitar
at age 15 i discover a new continent in my back garden
at age 16 i start to pronounce “schedule” the wrong way
at age 17 i write a good little song
at age 18 i…..oh its so long ago
the colours were different then
everybody was so nice afterwards
that little book of tips came in handy
mr pierce from over the road was never home
i didnt like oblongs
in the future i would change my mind
the wheels had more of a circle then, you know
i was chosen to walk off the moon
my registration was uneven
my real name was slim shandy
my homework ate my doggerel
i collected and restored geiger counters
i went to a cafe
i looked at the men you
i went from zero to hundred in one mexican minute
i checked into the hotel california
i was hummin’ n strummin’ all over gods earth
a book came out about the different types of lava
the vase looked simply wonderful where mother had put it
uncle hugo made us laugh for hours with his little puppet
tosca richards felt queasy on the ferris wheel
mrs pritchard didnt care for chutney
the audience didnt seem to be clapping anymore
my room had a stale feeling
a piano fell on someone and we laughed
peter and i missed our plain
ricky rolled a joint
sometimes it rained for a while
the phone rang and i answered it
someone had a party but i couldnt go
the doctor listened to my mind
on the way out his receptionist smiled sadly
a car was waiting but not for me
my brother said oh stop it, will ya?
my daughters were fighting
i went next door for a while
there was a strange sound coming from somewhere
i had a piss in the darkness
that summer …boy ..it was hot
they got a new guy at the shop
i scratched my head
the thorns caught in my leg and my blood was crimson
i woke up and felt sick
dad was looking troubled
i sat in a car for miles
i walked down a street
i knocked at a door
i go inside a place
i sit down n watch telly
i drink me milky tea
i eat me chocky biscuit
i fall asleep eventually
boy
what a wild ride!