The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

then this happened
then that happened
then someone said yes
and someone said no
and the night followed day
and the day followed night
steve kilbey pushing 55 (not out)
unknown even to myself
capable of anything
and like billy said
the killer in me is the killer in you
and billy told me
i used to be a little childe
so olde in my shoes….
and then i looked
and billy was a’singing my words
i shoulda believed eve
she said billy
you better blow
she was the apple of my eye
and i see eve kilbey
with her dryadic hair
and i think of eden
and i think of marco boleyn riding on his zee-bra
i think of all the beautiful things ever painted sung and written
and i think of my 40 years of music
and now
and only now
does she truly open herself up to me
a slow learner but i persevered
i paint in a trance
i paint inner trance
oh i wish i could describe the feeling of power
as it all comes back to me
i am starting to remember how it is done
i cant believe i have been so awkward clumsy n blind
sometimes i’m a bull in a china shoppe
sometimes i’m a bully in a playground
sometimes i’m a whore on my knees
sometimes i’m a thief in your night
sometimes….ah, but you get the picture
i wanna see whos inside me
i wanna see whose pulling the strings and why
maybe somebody else out there is descended from the monkeys
but not i
and dont blame me for the eighties
and i’m always expecting some jealous rain on my parade
voice in another room : some spurned “collaborator”…
and ive still got some tricks up my steve
i dont know exactly what they will be yet
it all works differently for everybody
i’m stuck here with me so i try to honestly describe it
i’m obsessed with me because somebody else was
i lose a grip on meaning
and i’m floating then free-falling through
a meaningless sky
its meaning less by the moment
the melting moments you mouth motionlessly
i conceal
i reveal
i embrace
i solace
i flutter by almost with you
this is how i feel today
finally a small grumbling #23 backlash
why dont they make that perfect record themselves then?
why do i take it so personally?
why do i sometimes lose it and argue with a wanker from
wanchorage?
you cant take a flame and expect it not to burn
my fiery nature is the source of my creativity
i take everything personally
i take world war one personally
i take the inquisition personally
i take slavery and torture very personally
i take a dew drop poised on the edge of an emerald leaf personally
i take magnificent sunsets personally
i take frail old ladies personally
i take street kids and winos personally
i take old sick men in hospital personally
i take the grey shore at dawn personally
i take E minor to G personally
i take crimson and purple personally
i take love and hate personally
i am a super taster of life
all experiences crowd in on me
i have hardly any detachment
(hence the opiate addiction(s))
i stand there with my thinnest of skins
i stand there with my old irregular heart on my sleeve
i stand there in the wind
TELLING YOU EVERYTHING
i dont shy away although i am quite shy
my hopes my defeats whatever who cares
still i restlessly burn
whatever happens out there
whoever loves me
whoever hates me
whoevers never heard of me
i remain locked on
and locked into myself
unable to escape
but starting to enjoy it in some strangest way
i am ruffian i am snob i am slob i am heart throb
i am modern i am older i am a cold shoulder
i am a shoulder to cry on
i am a singer a pommy whinger a middle finger
i linger n i gone
i fluent in pastel
i king of the castle
i the dirtiest rascal
im broke but im not breaking
smack couldnt break me
money isnt gonna either
im drowning in daughters
blessed with sweet youthful female energy for ever
a good friend or a miserable enemy i am
if you wanna upset me
i can hate thoroughly
and i love revenge
as much as i love the honesty
that compels me to give you the unexpurgated version of me
as if we WERE friends
dont expect me not to be childish
because dont you see
I AM A CHILDE
ha ha ha
a childe of god
a childe of the universe
a childe of les n joyce
the childe writes n paints n he bitches n blathers
some suave guy over yonder is writing a very a civilized blog
he never bites or takes the bait
but why arent you reading him…?
none of you can guide me
(voice in another bank account :but you can commission a blog…!)
i write without fear or favour
voice in another kitchen : sometimes with no flavour, saviour
i am kilbey
get over it!
pay me my dues
read my lips
dig my trips
watch in amazement as he back-flips
watch your little genius trade insults with a wancker..big deal!
dont tell me to grow up lest i become like all the others
meanwhile…..
ah fuck
i ran outta time!

drop kids at school
go swimming
do yoga
work on painting
painting of some woodland creatures cavorting in forest
very colourful
early night
have a horrible cold n cough
today i’m getting my blood tested for a load of things
might as well find out where i stand
vis a vis cholesterol diabetes cancer etc
so i’m getting everything tested
will let you know…..
had a long talk to my accountant davey r
who’ll be happy to know
his name appears in the index of my biography
wow hes a really nice guy too
and we talked for a while
now today
i gotta ring the taxman or woman personally
and negotiate with em
they wanna talk to me…..!
ok well i’ll let ya all know how that one goes
talk about 2 worlds colliding..
and before we start that whining carping idiot off again
(and sure enough it did…how predictable)
lemme say
i have been paying taxes since 1972
ive never missed a year until 2007
i believe in a socialist system
ie
try n look after everybody
free health etc
and ive always been happy to pay
and in my “good” years thats been a lot
ive paid a load of tax in my 54 years
anyway
as ya know
i got a cuppla big lump payments in 2006 2007
i neglected to put any tax aside
(unlike most of you i am not taxed at source)
and voila
i’m in a spot of bother
seeing i am now pretty broke
and due to the nature and irregularity of my payments
eg gigs records paintings
i cannot guarantee any real payment schedule
i dunno if i can pay 200 hundred bucks(for example) a week back
(and they want about 500 a week!!)
on top of every other thing
i dunno where thats gonna come from….
i mean
i want to pay off my fucking tax
i will eventually pay off my fucking tax
but at the moment
i cant say how long its gonna take
again
this is my own problem
i’m not being victimised or anything
i was just naive and procrastinating and foolish
an old accountant told me 29 years ago
when i got my first music biz cheque
he said
see half of it as yours
and the other half as the tax mans
and fucking put his half away NOW!
well i did alright for so long
then i lost the plot
and now i’m trying to get back on track
so
not the kinda interview i’m used to either
see how i go…..?!
on sunday appearing at another vegan expo
i havent been a terribly good vegan lately
im sure everyday i eat something with a little milk in it
ie chocky
but overall i am 95 per cent vegan
i do my lazy best i guess
and at 54
im as loose limbed and fit as i ever was at 24
i gotta load of energy
and i get most things done
i can run around onstage hefting my heavy bass
and sing out n not lose my breath
my hair is thinner n finer but not yet greying
(only my beard)
i can create the best music of my career
i can raise my kids
i can do twenty laps
i can walk 20 miles thru the bush
i can do a hour of yoga
i can keep my lovely wife happy
and i can come up with something on here everyday
things im not so good at : officialdom
correspondence
money matters
anger management
deadlines
modesty
humility
ok
am i honest enough for you?
are you getting your moneys worth?
had a 2 year subscription from runar in scandinavia
but he didnt give me a blog theme….
sure its a hokey idea
hey i’m full of em
i like to work given some guidelines…
i like doing peoples portraits too…
i just dont like ringing up the taxman that much
but today
i will
could be a blood shedding day all round
love on ya n over ya
sk

yeah we played last nite at the vanguard in sydney
johnny howler aquitted himself real real well
in 10 000 miles he nailed it to the max
what a great guy
what great drummer
all with so very little rehearsal
the place was about half full
about a hundred n fifty
it was tuesday nite n short notice
every one made a few mistakes
marty cocked up buffalo on bass
and then afterwards had a long complicated reason why he did
sure sure…..save it for the judge…
he played every note in the book…and then some….
but never the right one….
he exonerated himself however
with some great guitar work
so….no hard feelings…..eh?
we sold absolutely no merch
not a postcard or anything
they say everyone there had everything already
my nasty cold prevented me from totally going gonzo
but i thoroughly enjoyed myself
and everyone said theyd like to do it again
great to see di n therese
great to see martin sync of moving parts fame
thank you for all yesterdays kind words n affirmations
reading my blog back afterwards it seemed a little “giddy”
voice in another room : tsk tsk…blowing yer own horn
yeah
on the drugs thing
yes
i realize i put some people thru some bad times
i dont think stephen cummings is one of them
i dont think he was “damaged” by me using the gear
i think he was bemused n irritated
but not damaged or hurt
i think him gratuitously mentioning me in the article
(go back n read it!)
is merely a bit of exploitation
not a man airing his deep damage
i dont know
i would imagine
that by reading my many posts about the gear days
that my shame
my guilt
my desolation would be apparent in my words
it was a thoroughly miserable ten years…oh yes my word
you know i deeply regret it on every level..oh yes i do
and im grateful for YET another chance…oh yes i am
on a karmic level maybe a chance i didnt deserve
on a talent level a chance a DID deserve in splades
cos i bin hitting this thing with integrity for a long while now
when radiohead n muse were still in the playground
i was bestriding the stages of this world n giving the people good rock
rock with intelligence n subtlety n mystery n blah blah blah
(and much handsomer in our hayday than any of them too!)
voice in another room : by a long shot…there all little short guys…
if you like my stuff
congratulate yerself
youre in the top percentile of discerning listeners
you are the very core of who i am
you are the chosen ones
you are the devoted few
i dedicate this to the dedicated
thank you for kind words
thank you for subscriptions
idiot in another room : oooh hes begging for money…..!
thank you for liking what i do
watch this space
its gonna get even better
you not gonna believe it
we actually gonna get better n better
ha ha
at this stage of the game
art for arts sake!
music words action
bang bang bang
just like that!
see ya later i guess
sk

did not get tv gig
ah………
(but they really liked it……..!?)
next time….
voice in another tv show : sure….
the good reviews for u#23 continue to pour in
go read the one at blog critics
gee it seems our time has finally come
the world has moved on or back a notch
and suddenly the critics unnerstand us again
or has u#23 got some balance right….
some subtle but important balance.?…i dunno
i just persevere n see what happens
same with yoga
same with swimming
same with fatherhood
same with life
it is strange that at this late stage of the game
that we are knocking out energetic fresh strange stuff
when we should be playing some safe nostalgic rubbish
like all the other oldies
except leonard
neil
robyn hitchcock
robert forster
i loathe U2 but at least they keep trying to be new….
i mean artists get better as they grow older
why cant musicians?
the jazz cats did, didnt they….
theoretically you got all this more experience
(i been playing the bass nearly 40 years!!)
you should have picked up some tricks by now
you should know your way around la musica
you should know your way around life
the church are starting to approach excellence in rock music
we can never actually achieve it
but we can approach it constantly
ie are there better guitarists than pk n mwp still extant?
i mean in the genre in which we perform
are there better drummers than tp?
are there bands with higher or loftier ideals?
we are simultaneously classic and innovative
we incorporate traditional rock values with idiosyncratic genius
and we embrace the ever opening future
we are not a nostalgia act
we are 4 musicians engaged in an ongoing dialogue
the whole thing is still evolving
the church have taken their time
and go back and look at all our records
even the rotten ones
and you’ll find our integrity almost always intact
we have never condescended towards our listeners
i never chuck off that second rate bullshit word jive
my lyrics are deliberately ambiguous
my lyrics contain love and spirit and
i am a man in love with language
no one can write or think like me
oh there are others out there who do a better show
there are younger n handsomer rockers
there are more intense and violent rockers
there are more popular rockers
but there aint no one like me or the church
the thinking mans band
before and after radiohead
ive made a million records n everyone of em
is dripping with innovation and multiple levels of meaning
i explore music
i explore words
i explore recording techniques
i explore collaboration
i explore all aspects of song
i expect 5 star reviews
i dont always get em but i expect em
you may or may not scoff
and some sad little idiot
the same sad little idiot
pestering me over n over on my comments
said the other day
that all my readers/listeners were poor
thats why they didnt pay me much
au contraire my fine feathered fucknuckle
many of my readers are tertiary educated
many hold “high” positions in the “straight” world
many are moguls doctors professors lawyers lecturers teachers
dentists pilots or whatever
some of them make very nice contributions on my paypal
i was once standing backstage in the u.s.
i was talking to a gynecologist an architect and a prof at local uni
i say howcome you guys listen to us
and these youngish richish educated dudes said
well who the fuck else are we gonna listen to…?
so there you go
one of the handful of thinking mans bands
i am comfortable with sweating and pounding my bass
or discussing da-da or dorian columns over a gin n tonic
i straddle all realms and by fuck i am good
and i will prevail
and you’ll see in the end
after my meandering course
i will lock on
(i am locked on)
and i will pursue art n music all the way to their n my ends
so if you wanna insult me or my readers
you better do so constructively
coz i aint printing anymore tediously obnoxious comments
they lower the whole fucking tone of my hi-class blogge
meanwhile
a “monetize” button has appeared on my blog dashboard
this means i hit the button n ads will appear
they will figure out what i’m writing about
n stick in appropriate ads
(!?)
(the mind boggles what they would try n sell on here!)
anyway
instead of that
i am launching a may madness campaign
anyone contributing a two year subscription in may
will get to choose the topic n guidelines for one blog
ie recording such n such
touring such n such
such n such year
thoughts on such n such
memories of such n such
poem about such n such
why did you such n such
whats yer opinion of such n such etc etc etc
anyone who just made a largish contribution
and feels miffed that they have been disincluded
can feel free to join in too
when contributing
leave a message of yer proposed blog
and i’ll do my best
i am way way behind in thanking my generous subscribers
who keep the ball rolling for me
so thank you!
times are hard
i appreciate your hard earned dough
i appreciate your honesty
(hey blogs dont grow on trees you know)
and really
if you dont like what i do
then why are you even still here n reading it?
for everyone else
loadsa love
me n mwp are doing the vanguard tonite
who knows how it’ll all turn out
we’ll be winging it!
the usa tour looms ahead
mwp is off there soon to set it up
our last chance for a bit of a spar
be good!
sk

i remember waiting waiting waiting
in swedish graveyards
and in the cracks of the city
buying time
while i worked on the lyrics for kings
how white it looked on the black piano
how dark it looked against the stainless steel
marty said watch out!
as i swerved
the snowflakes were fluttering down in the headlights
i was hypnotized behind the wheel
driving all over the road and thru the dales and dells
in my room alone finally
it turned transparent and then swirling red
and then gone gone gone
up into heart and into my brains
a pleasant sickly swipe sideways
the phone rings
someone says something
the music is so loud
i dont hear anything
knock at the door
but this room doesnt have a door
i check my biography for the details
producing a record for some ingratiate
i pull a gun out of its box and overdub some shots
some woman sings something
but i’m already drifting away
grant comes over and gets out his guitar
the velvet in the case is plush and crimson
grant lights a cigarette and grimaces as he pulls in
he blows it out the side of his mouth
oh steven he says
a lift creaks and the doors swing open
sometimes its up to the rooftop pool
sometimes its room # 23
where jason n rhonda live
jason died so long ago
rhonda went so mad
she wrote down her name cos she couldnt remember it
rhonda goes upstairs to weigh up my half
jason sits downstairs smoking n watching tv
whats she fucking doing up there…i ask
take it easy mate …he says….
we arrive at the gig
ive pawned my guitar so i just sing with my hands and voice
my voice coughs out elastic sentences
and my hands arrange it for music
theres hardly anyone here anyway
i clutch my little bag in my change pocket
it reassures me in a voice like snow
some people hear it and ask for more
i let my little snow voiced friend out
and we sing a croaky olde song together
someone applauds as a laugh
and i bow down while my friend curtseys
grant sits by the window sipping a red wine
i join him
the traffic drives up bourke street
i nibble at the peanuts
marty packs up his guitar and chats to the punters
in the desert its still snowing
we park by the sea
and the girls say
we want to have a walk
when they get out
i undo my package and i taste it with my eyes tongue
i apply it liberally to my aching muscles and troubled mind
the radio comes on of its own accord
and the years slip by like a night thru butter
im looking in my swedish dictionary for a word
keep your eye on the road says a voice in another room
i swerve narrowly avoiding a wide berth
i count the money i have left
i convert it into anxious kronor
marty says go on…here take this
he hands me the wheel and the deal
i’m working on the words for feel
i get locked in my apt so i cant get out
some spanish guy slings something thru the window
i push the kronor under the door
i’m standing there looking in the mirror
why this self obsession i ask myself
i watch as my flowers fade and my pupils shrink
i lie in the bath and twitch restlessly
my erstwhile friend ben the famous actor comes over
got anything? he asks
no…but come in… i say
he wrinkles up his nose
no thanks …he says
the tv comes back on
i watch a space opera while i wait wait wait
anxiety sits down next to me
changing the channels rapidly
i see 2 guys driving along on a dark night
flying thru the outer suburbs of some northern town
one guy jumps out
and the other drives down to T -centralen
at the station i see a face i know
the face grins and nods at me
the face opens its mouth
and for a split second it reveals many small capsules
all wrapped in plastic
i push a thousand kronor into the faces hand
and it grins and spits 2 of the capsules into my glove
it must be narnia cos its always winter
i stagger down to the train
my apt is still dark when i get in
a slender figure is lying on the sofa
it gets up and turns on the light
a young swedish guy looking pale and miserable
did you find anything?
he smiles wanly as he chops out a line
with his rikesbanken card
he snorts it up his nose
and moistens his finger and dabs up the rest
putting it on his tongue
martin stuffs some snuff into his mouth
do you want to hear biosphere? he asks
i lie back in my phony euphoria
who can tell what the time is in all this darkness
in australia in surry hills its christmas day and its hot
a sorry bunch assembles to play cards and take smack
i stumble down the hot street to buy a pastry
my bank account is starving hungry
i shovel in a decent cheque
but the lemur on my shoulder is eating it all up
i go back to albion street
i look at the lights all twinkling in my studio
i see the dull gleam of my guitars
i listen to a playback of the same old song
people drop in
people go out
i remain stuck
stuck thru the heart on a sharp string
i call jason n rhonda
yeah mate…says jason…you wanna come on over?
down to their place just behind crown street
a sandstone terrace painted a nauseating light green
its a hot day
jason opens the door shirtless
the inevitable smoke in his mouth
their place is covered in cobwebs
all this old junk in the darkness of this old terrace
covered in cobwebs
jason sits in his big old chair watching tv in the darkness
what are ya after mate…he asks sleepily
as some old recoloured movie from the 40s plays
american kids in canoes with lanterns
a long way from surry hills 1993 or 94 or 91 or when was it..
i feel so lonely
everyones gone away in the end
i chuck six khaki 50s at him
jason yells out to the ceiling
hey rhon can you get a g for steve…?
i stare at the cobwebs and old pictures of rhonda
a long time ago in another life she went to school
she was an athlete and she had a mum n dad
the gear has changed her
a gear shift
methadone the great leveller
downers for the gaps
sweet food
stay inside
cant remember anything
not even my name
oh look i wrote it down on some paper
its…..nevets yeblik

the reviews for u#23 pour in
behold : only 4 and 5 star reviews
ah the spirit of the age
a revolt into style
the church get the mix right (finally)
in our fifties (cept tim)
we are finally grande olde masters of rock
like da vinci if he played the fucking electric guitar
like van go go woulda played a drumkit
like andre breton woulda pumped a bass guitar
we have absorbed a thousand influences
each member bringing in his expertise n particular attributes
tim : technical, calm, powerful, deep, reasonable, unpredictable
pete : musical, knowledgeable, perfectionistic, traditional, fiery, exact
marty : intuition, passion, eclectic, wild, inspiring
i will refrain from assessing myself today
except to say
with out me these other wonderful ingredients will fail to cook
i am the alpha and the omega
i usually start things off
let them do their thing
and at the end
i move in and sing
more than ANY thing else in this world
i am a prime mover in the art of songwriting
i know how to get the ball rolling
i understand the processes of creation of art
and for excellence in this
i hail breton
i hail dali
i hail dylan thomas
i hail paul mc cartney
i hail brian willson
i hail peter walsh and gavin mckillop
i hail remedios varo
i hail frida k
i hail marko boleyn and david jones
i hail anais nin
i hail steve winwood
i hail johnny foxx
i hail martin kennedy
i hail robert anton wilson
i hail ricky miami
i hail brian ee-no
i hail arthur rackham
i hail cs lewis
i hail homer
i hail willy waggledagger
i hail neil young
i hail paul n tom verlaine
i hail jeff buckley who had buckleys chance
i hail n r dalton who is an amazing woman
i hail klimpt
i hail ern malley
i hail strindberg
i hail angela carter
i hail grant mclennan
i hail shayne p carter
i hail ali goldfrapp
i hail the black ryder
i hail italo calvino
i hail henry miller
i hail foxtrot and the lamb
i hail hawkwind and the pink fluid
i hail manuel on the isle of marvels
i hail dave mccomb
i hail a cab
i swim 20 laps
i do 2 sessions of yoga
i play bass n sing on tiares new record
(which is quite otherworldly and strange)
i walk back from bondi junction with eve kilbey
i love you eve i say
i love you too dad eve says
i laugh ha ha
no dad
she says
i really do…..

totally on track

suffer the little slings n arrows
to come unto me
one step forwards
one step sideways
one step beyond
one thing goes right
on thing goes left behind
one thing goes haywire
publicity
fame
photo ops
slow mo
i see my name slandered n bandied about
i see my picture reproduced in some rag
i see the great unwashed public
who dont give a flying frig about me or what i do
i read the reviews…..hmmmmm…so this ones ok?
i keep knocking out stuff
more things incessantly
more more more
knock knock knock
knock it out
knock it off
a whirl of action
oh god i need a holiday
no time
no money
no possibility
must keep pressing ahead
trying to come up with something
cant rest on my laurel wreath
yes u23 is a masterpeace
but which way is the wind blowing today?
painkiller is wearing off
antarctica starts here
the ice melting down down down
the rain soaks into the earth
the music soaks into the ether
the people fade into oblivion
eventually everything is forgotten
the masterpeaces and the lumps of rubbish
the ‘andsome kings and the hugly villains
the knuckleheads n the clever sods
pessimism falls down on me
i struggle against myself
i thrash around in anxiety
i anticipate the cold dread of worry
fear sours my stomach
i nervously apprehend time
i approach the future with great caution
someone deal me a king
someone deal me another
someone slip me a joker
someone send me a cheque
thank you my generous subscribers
thank you my kind donators
thank you my patrons and ladies
thank you my readers
thank you my good friends and well wishers
thank you my former lives which led up to now
i am beginning to see who i am
oh how hilarious it all is
8 a.m. on a saturday morning
its so nice out there
why do i sit in here n type type type?
dont wanna let you down
i know you wanted yer ttb
people rely on me to be there
n goddamm it
im gonna be there
a facta life you can count on
kilbey/inevitable
like the sun n moon
i will fucking prevail
i will overcome
i will turn it around
and somehow pay off my tax
and somehow sell some records
and somehow shake off the various pests
who still try to infest my head
the blackmailing failing
the poison pen that nauseates me
keeping on keeping on
like a tick or a flea
or a parasite in someone elses mind
so unnecessary
coward!
get over it!
get thee fucking behind me all you worms
gnawing at my confidence n peace of mind
i will prevail
i will endure
with or without
i will go on n i will create
and some people will understand
and some people will love it
and some people will hate it
and someone might even pay for it
and thats enough for today
i shower blessings down on your house
go forth and multiply
or just have a nice day
sk

sitting at home yessaday
waiting for some news about a tv music submission
some music i was working on for a new show
would i get the gig?
the phone rings
its my soundtrack broker
he says
i havent got any news yet but i hope they dont read
todays sydney morning herald
i say
whys that?
he says oh boy
you better buy one have a look
then an email from sue c
the churchs nifty right hand woman
it says something like
oh something bad in paper but remember stephen loves you
i trot down to shops feeling anxious
has fucking stephen cummings
written more bad stuff about the badde olde days?
you betcha! an autobiography
but that aint the baddest thing
hes done a big interview with the smh
and
about a third of it focusses on me
and “cummo”s recollections of my drug use…
replete with tales of me nodding off at the mixing board
my syringes
my connections etc
ok ok
did that have to get printed today?
will i possibly lose my lucrative gig cozza this malarkey?
aint that bad timing
aint that unfair
why did that fucking blabbermouth have to implicate me
hes already used me (thinly veiled)
in a fictional book
we had all that heroin and dope delivery story then
i mean ok
it woulda been ok if it had remained in his autobiography
probably only a very few people would have ever noticed it
but the friggin smh
with a big half page article
that millions ‘ll read…..?
WHY LORD WHY?
and then you start thinking
what is fair n not fair in biography game
people do those tell all books
butlers who’ve rooted the royal family
chauffeurs who’ ve snorted coke with keef
cummo spills the beans on the music biz
how are all those people gonna feel?
can you just co-opt someones life for yer book
( or blog for that matter)
where do ya draw the line?
he insults old michael gudinski (aust music biz tycoon)
then says
aw he can handle it hes got a sensa humour
(hope so for your sake cummo
but…whats that black car parked outside yer place?)
at least i come over as “straight-up” and a “nice guy”
well thanks stephe
but dont nice guys finish last?
and i think thats why i like roberts book
he didnt try n exploit me
he didnt try to glamourize or sordidize the drug bit
there it is
the years when i worked with stephen i am not proud of
it was 15 years ago
gee that seems like a long time
anyway
yes
i met him in my dressing gown
drinking custard and reading the bhagavad gita
i was living in surry hills
and i was using bigtime
yes i had people delivering dope day n night
including an old man
a youngish boy
a big fat lady who never got outta her car
and a tatooed shifty jailbird type
i guess cummo saw it all go down
cummo himself hooked on cigs n coffee
his autobiographers mind sucking in all the details
ooh cummo
dont forget olde sk tho
born on the same day as you my brother sept 13
thats why that song is called that
that song you sang real well too
anyway
dont forget i gotta autobiographers mind too
and you never know
when i do my own book
how you gonna appear
all the things i remember about you
(and mae moore come to think of it)
i dunno
i guess i thought that private stuff
would err…remain private
but i guess everybody is fair game for everyone elses biography
so next time before you
do anything at all
with somebody else (there)
make sure they sign an anti-autobiography clause
eg
i, joe schmoe, will not mention killer smoking this joint in my book
“joe schmoe remembers”…
yes they were dark days indeed
oh why did they have to come up now
WHEN I”M BEHAVING MYSELF
i see all good people turn their heads each day
so satisfied i’m on my way…
so
i can hardly wait to buy the book now
hey cummo
cant you send us a copy
or have i gotta wait till it hits the cut out bins….?
meanwhile in some rare good news
rolling stone in aust have given us a ***** review
yep the best you can get
and a glowing glowing one to boot
for one full minute afterwards i was satisfied…..
and then……
today marty n i rehearsing for sk vs mwp at the vanguard next tues
we gotta great drummer
johnny howler from leonardos bride n others
we got an eclectic set
voice in another room : they dont know what theyre playing yet…
so well
rock n roll
will fill you in if i get tv gig
if i dont
maybe i can chip in with gudinski
n get cummos kneecaps done
beware of falling singers
all knees must pass
ouch!
oh sorry…..

got my bio in the post yessaday
wow
nice work
i really enjoyed it
robert dean lurie has done a lovely job
hurrah
and great relief
i read it all in one go yesterday
it was like a novel i couldnt put down
then this
then that
uh oh
watch out for nick…oooh..i mean niC…ward
also previously known as nigel murray
he recounts the night he got kicked out
complete with splendid tales of punching the”pommy bastard”
and ” his bitch had jumped on my back”
i threatened to “knock her out”
“i lifted my knee into his guts…i was amused at this”

hes talking about marty n lucy willson-piper here…..
later on he daydreams how hed like to thump everyone involved…
how very strange
you see
poor olde fella still thinks violence is the answer
he says in the book i had a smart mouth but nothing to back it up with…
ie i didnt like being constantly threatened by my own drummer
ie if you said hey nic(k) can you play like this….
you didnt have to back it up with with yer fists
poor old nic(k) nigel nee murray-ward
still back in lyneham high
permanently locked into some 1950s aussie mans mans world
like paul hogan having a really bad acid trip
no one will ever wonder again why he was kicked out
they will, however, wonder why he was let in….
but jesus
it had me laughing out loud
a lot of the book did
theres some funny stuff in there
you wont believe it
of course i dont actually get royalties for it myself
so this is a free advertisement
its been a long time coming down the line
and im very happy with it
it is an aspect of my story
its fun to read….believe it or not
i felt like i was reading about some other geezer
some other geezer i dreampt up when i was still in the public service
a goodlooking young guitar strumming lad
with some goodlooking pals
(some stunning pics of young pete n marty)
an interesting up n down story
so random
so stupid
so preordained
a life i was destined to lead
and nic(k) ward was right
a smart mouth that got me into trouble n ruined it for me
why didnt i just shuttup and play?
theres lotsa good bits about my nasty side
dave studdert gives a withering account of my time in “tactics”
and gee whiz…i really was a turkey wasnt i
voice in another book : you were a real fool….
the drugs….yep
the cover is really nice
the quality of the paper is a bit iffy
its that glossy cheap stuff
theres loadsa pics you probably never seen before
rob has understood the biography thing well
and hes done a pretty good job
you can imagine how i’d be railing against it if it was a stinker
he even gives me the last word
and it seems a little harsh
taken out of some context but not really
on the printed page it just seems more…errr…concrete
and final
certainly the people who preordered so long ago
will be very very happy with it
its a lot better than some ive read
also remember that my life wasnt so exciting
so its hard for my biography to be too wild…
theres some sad stuff
some really hilarious stuff
peter koppes remarks kept me in stitches
oh god
i’m glad the little redheaded bugger wrote this book
he says many many kind things about my work
he understands
he grokks it
he wrote me an email recently saying he was loving u#23
to me thats high praise indeed
after all this
i mean i consider him an expert on us now
he deserves a masters degree
and i was pleased to be the object and subject in his thesis
yeah
maybe the church’ll be selling it on church murch
go on
buy it
read it
imagine you had led that life
oh god what a story
a ha ha ha

flattened out horizon
passing across the desert
constant beating of wings
man with one eye
the sun squints down
well with cool green water
sky with silent clouds bumping into each other
someone has painted the background
someone wanders thru their own creation lost
a car accelerates away
the 1960s are back and stumbling around
black n white trailers
marked perimeters
cactii swelling up black with too much water
we discover oil….again
shoot that scene in the leg
hobble about wobble and shout
stupid head wound
cobalt blueprint
one shot offer
sure fire think
let them go out into the future
blast away at the past
go last
go fast
go past
boot hill up
a deep and grave stone
lying beside us
vultures appear
widows are made
orphans sit bewildered
the dogs howl
the men start up their drinkin’
the women start up their cryin’
i start up my dyin’
already focussed
on my next big roll