The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

i am in west australia doing my solo tour
ricky maymi on guitar
shaun hoffman on drums
adrian hoffman on bass
im playing my guild 12
we are playing tonite after rehearsing yesterday
we sound really good too
please come along and cheque us out
the weather is warm n sultry
had a delicious vietnamese last night with ricky
the song tam in fremantle
had a sweet potato n pumpkin roll for lunch
we are staying on the top floor of a freo guesthouse
its really nice
very quiet
perth is 3 hours behind sydney
i got a minor case of jet lag
the flowers next door are magnificent blue pink and red
richard lane the promoter of tour is in the stems
we are playing a couple of david neil numbers
my strings are quite old
we did an interview at 8 am proving rockers can get up early
there are posters on the wall in here
of every old aussie rocker in the book
i fell asleep for a while on the way here
i looked out and imagined triffids songs being enacted out there
a woman at a mall bumped into me accidentally n said sorry
i charged my coffee to my new debit card
i hope i remember the words to all the songs
ricky did a great job teaching the band my songs
i had an anzac cookie in bunbury which i funnily called bumbury ha ha
our van is a hyundai not a kia as i previously thought
im wearing the periodic tables t shirt
a lovely male fan in seattle gave me
i dunno what it all means
but at least im getting a nuff magnesium now
and plenty of zinc alloy
we have our soundcheque in 1 hour n thirty minutes
or 1 and a half hours, if you like
we will roadtest our material
see if it is pure 100 %rocknroll no other rubbish ingredients
because rock must be rock…its carved in stone, isnt it?
so that we may rock…..all so that we may rock
my computer battery is about half empty
im wearing black undies with white piping
ive had 2 cups of coffee n its making me wee a bit
ricky didnt bring his wah wah or his ragini
adrian is playing bass live for the first time
hes very good i must say
at 18 i was useless n you all know thats the truth
shaun uses drumsticks called hotrods
i wonder why coffee makes me wee so much?
i cant play the drums myself but i play the tambourine
which is much harder to spell than drums
thats why i wanted to originally play the cor anglais
(literal translation : a slightly distorted crumphorn)
i like instruments that are difficult to spell
like base guitar because your the base of the pyramid
and lead guitar because you play it on a lead like a dasch hund
and symbols are always more legible
ricky is sitting next to me now
a big blog huh ?he says
the bjm have black undies on their ryder
but what do the black ryder have on their undies??
the bjm have black sox on their rider too
thats to put all their speedballs in so the feds cant bust em up
does anton really work for the reserve bank?
ricky is having a snooze
i want to too but the coffee got me restless
you see im rest-less…english is easy isnt it?
i came top of my english class once
n now im the arguably best lyricist in bussellton wa
arguably
my knee aches a little
i shood do yoga soon
please come n see us
all you thousands of time being readers in bussellton wa
if only one tenth of you would come
we would have at least a pair of shoes here toniote
a little dog just ran in n sniffed my leggy
i made a sound like psssst n it fled
but its owner who runs this pub gave me a stern look
mind you i bet my legs do smell nice
especially to little white dog
or maybe a tapir would enjoy my finest calves
rickys got a little beard
he looks like dylan off the cover of infidels
type type type
people walk thru our dressing room like its a thorough fare
i hope the little doggie does not come back to snifter me
i might upset bc n give it a little kicky next time
imagine if i ran around sniffing strangers knees
its totally unthinkable in a town like bussellton
perhaps the dog was trying to sniff my legend
after all im an old aussie legend now …
a motion was passed in the senate: TTB = LEG end
must wee wee soon but lavvy is so far away
lucky i is not type of rocker to become disgruntled n wee
in a bottle n leave it hidden in some festering place
until the whole fucken gig has to be demolished
to get rid of the galloping strpto-cocco n strepto-rococco
and the germans in my eppigloppalis
i still got my adenoids though
sometimes they crash into the earth leaving craters
ricky wakes up briefly
someone downstairs says cheque 1 2
over n over in a cartoon aussie accent
with all the hum n ring n feedback
my ears love it
please come n see us if i have tempted you
bussellton wa tonight
live in the showbiz capital punishment of south west west australia
in the south west hemisphere a long way from the north, paul
yeah well
see ya!
sk

summer lays down 100 degree grand slam in spades
perishing my rubber
making me play a dummy hand
i stand in the orange room with jb and mk
i write 11 new songs in 2 days….because i can
(2 of em arent much good)
i sing n write n sweat n sing some more
always australia everywhere
the heat i groan to love
like on new years long ago eve sitting with my family
out on the lawn
dad in his ever present white singlet drinking his one beer
mum coming out with mince pies or whatever
the neighbours pop by as they go in and out
they smell of cigarettes n aftershave n beer always beer
i have always been surrounded by beer
the stuff scares me i never understand the appeal
but i have lived amongst its smell n customs all my life
the senseless roar n din of the australian pub
as a thousand sloshed diggers promise each other the fucken moon
pissing in each others pockets slapping each other on the back
this is as truly bullshit as the stoned giggles or the junkies whine
i sometimes stood outside of pubs with their sporting pictures
from the fifties
my dads old bosses tom phillips and charlie roberts
slaves to the booze
red faced and merry 24 hours a day
my dad is never drunk
my dad is never out of control
my dad never cries or complains
he sits on his deckchair in the front garden on new years eve
drinking his one beer
‘ow ya going, mr kilbey…asks john from next door
his mum n dad n brother n sister are olive skinned black haired
but john is a pale redhead like archie in the comics
he drinks a bit
he gets married n divorced
he drives a restored old holden
he drives me to the swimming pool one day
i float around in the back seat
my dad doesnt like american or australian cars
he doesnt like european cars neither
he likes english cars like morrises and wolseleys and stuff
he only likes certain brands of petrol too
he doesnt like shell
he likes bp better than the others
he spends a lotta time polishing his car n tinkering in the engine
im just advancing the blah blah he says n gets me to rev it
now im just retarding it a bit he says
new years eve up the top of lyneham in 1968 is not a big deal
no fireworks no champagne or much of that
some of the rellies drop in and i very reluctantly kiss some of my aunts
their lipstick n mustaches scared me
their sour breath n harsh words did not make me want to kiss them
there were girls at school i wanted to kiss and actresses on tv
but i did not want to kiss some of my aunts
i played records in my room
yes i liked simon n garfucknuckle …what of it…?
next year i’d be fifteen
i was torn between the adult life which beckoned on the horizon
and my child-life i hadda leave behind
yeah i told you bout the playboys under my bed
i had a hankering for the erotic
but nothing much would happen to me for a while
i got my hands on some classic dirty books
and my head was filled with perverse ideas from henry miller
and the story of o
and lady chatterlys lover
(now on sale at the post office…then a banned book…)
anyway australian summer was all around
always there
as i gawked at the women on the pages
as i thumbed through the early 20th century erotica
as i got ready for school
listening to the radio
listening to the bee gees and neil diamond and cat stevens
n one hit wonders (like me)
who came n went like ripples in a pool
the black clear hot summer nights of canberra
the swampy damp humidity of sydney
where everyones on permanent holiday
and the weeds push rudely through the cracks
sydney the wild bohemian to canberras “straight”
people at my school married other people from my school
n settled down near that old school
i mean wtf
didnt they wanna see more of the world than that…?
i had to go to london n stockholm n hungary n atlanta
i had to meet all those wonderful characters that burnt through my life
i had to bestride the stages in a million clubs n bars
i had to look in a million backstage mirrors
watching myself get older n older
as the music morphed outwards
n i shed my seven skins
to reveal the current me
as revealed to you here on these very pages
as i allow you to see me
in all my pseudo-honesty
still type type typing away
despite my 11 songs
despite my 2 yoga sessions n my 16 laps
the kids shine on
the moon is white like a white hole
a big horserace finds women with stupid hats at one end
n stupid shoes at the other
a bunch of horses get flogged round a track
more beer
more beer
more beer
who won?
who cares
they all get pissed n flood into bondi
i come home n my wife smiles at me
with the look of love
i’ll have my own celebration
on this hot hot night