The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

sydney sky erupting in fireworks

didnt go to a party cos i wasnt feeling that up to it

and hadda skype the kids

its been a bad year for me n kids but not as bad as some

some people had worse years than me thats for sure

i’d like to sincerely thank these people in no particular order

and confer upon them my new years honours

kip mcc : fantastic host n friend revolutionized my web sight

john cole : cool as all hell

johnny tehranian : cds on their way . thanks again. see you in la

kevin keller : i say amazing too often but kevin keller IS!

davey rundle : cmon dave, lets be vegetarians this year! i love ya man!

ricky maymi : one day son this will all be yours . DAVID NEIL!!! YEAH!!

martin kennedy : too nice too talented too unbelievably good! kk2 coming WHITE MAGIC!

glenn bennie : i love you ,gb3 and the undies , ok? good!

jeffrey cain : caino you rescued my mid year slump. isidore will rule!!

holly jordan : i have such a soft spot for you …what? i am working!

sue campbell : i want samoa!

jemal n moksha : thanks for messages n for your great version of invisible!

my melbourne girls yeah you know who you are …mm, m, ap, bsk et al

annakki mayhem : great 2nd book w/ churchy bits too

lloyd n the church army : shoulders in the cause

joe seg : opera house : made it happen

audiences on aussie tour : not a bad bunch of gooseballs

readers on this blog : i love ya all (except ……)

someone i forgot for sure…

oh well

see you tomorrow , next year

waste a money

sunroom

sit at the lights its a hot fucking day

the radios all blare the mobiles all a’ringing

the future is experiencing compression

i just sit there dont i

part of the jam happy to be a part of it

all of us with our bits n pieces of paper

registrations bills receipts letters of resignation

still the sun beats down the sky is royal blue

fuck i gotta headache tho

i felt sick for a day now

my eyes swimming behind the windshield

my trigger happy feet revving the angry motor

my tanned brown arms with slightly blond hairs

my poor old mind which wont go into fourth gear

fuck its christmas isnt it

what the hell does that mean

im stuck here at the intersection of the boardwalk and neptune st

i see a woman i know crossing the road dressed in a bikini

hi steve i see her mouth through the traffic

she waves kinda sadly as i drive off

there is some kinda electrical fizz and crackle from the overhead lines

i dont remember much from certain bits of my childhood anymore

maybe ive just invented most of it anyway

the shops all having sales

please dont ask for credit as refusal may offend

something biting in and out of water

in the car next door some pretty senorita stares ahead

shes so busy shes so determined to get there

the lights change we zoom off

the background rushes by

the sea the cliffs the spectacular cemeteries

its christmas i have to remind myself

i pull into another lane and join another stream

many things flow thru my mind

the beach is packed

tanned locals and pale europeans

we wonder what drugs we will buy for new eves eve

we wonder what combinations we will try

we wonder how bad we will feel the next day

the sea must be cold i guess

i feel it vicariously through the road

the road is hot like cake

christmas cake melting in a sullen afternoon heat

christmas stretching back and back into directionless nothingness

christmases forgotten better not ever to be remembered

and thats it

the traffic stretches on n on

it doesnt matter where you going

its gonna take ages to get there

The Church- Thornbury Theatre – Dec 19th 2010

” ……If you live in the States go and see them play! You wont be disappointed. Tell them the Wollongong boys sent you! …. the church hit the stage, and without going into massive detail, this ends up being MY GIG OF THE YEAR! When did Steve Kilbey become such a chatter box, he was so funny and the band just bounced off each other. They played so so SO well. We’ve been to some great gigs this year and who would of guessed at the 11th hour it would be the church that would race up the straight and steal the prize for best gig. Better then Crowded House, better then U2. I was saddened it was the last show for Australia, I would of flown interstate for another show as mighty as this. All 3 of us were blown away. …All the way in the car we rave about the show…. that’s always a good sign. … We arrive home musically full (burp) what a show. America GO AND SEE THE CHURCH in February.” – Peter Green

Read the whole blog entry here – http://www.frenz.com/16min/

macbeth in bondi

roll across hill roll across dale

a free spirit at christmas tidings

the unexpected thump of  exiting chemical ooze

the languid days under grey haze

the night creeps in so stealthily

i hardly notice i’m drifting downstream

all the people have gone again

evening brings nostalgia growing up a column

light is saturated bright yellow and flaring with doubt

crimson ranges overlapped

the blues are anchored in the edges in the margins

at first the white discolouration appears to mimic some beast

it blossoms into some insolent nude crouching in amongst the darkest flowers

she seems to smile before we realise we are looking at a cloud

a bird flies across it like a rent in the fabric

the audience comes to an end

we are all dismissed we must disperse at once

out i go into a world a steel coloured blur

where are the fountains where are the statues

surely zeus has intervened

the thunderer is woken in fury

while his cow eyed wife meddles here on earth

it feels like the weather is fading into nothing

a black drip runs down the nights page

creamy shot of slim milk

sudden taste of alkaline vanilla

a murmuring sound like distant monks

i wake up kissing a mask

holding on to a bottle of holy green water from the red sea

the roller glides over wet paper waves

sea weed presses down alright impressing the painted currents

the cellophane fires crackle under harsh theatre lighting

our lines are all mixed up

i appear to be speaking your part sometimes

my costume has been bathed in some water based light

i am camouflaged against background all freshly hung in strips

i leaf through a book of trees

i choose the wrong trap door

everything that happens is encoded in information

a face at a window a voice down a line

my time has expired on the screen

my credit is not sufficient to be of any use to me now

talking to girls look like its fifty years ago

like they sitting in some washed out past

while i hang in the black future

dotted by foam like stars

viridian lines move in ripples through your island mind

the peninsula ends in a bay full of vicious fish

the river brackish in its sluggish tug

the rotting hulk of a horizon decays in the absorbed impressions

a really symbolist moment complete with a slight bleachy halo

i watch a landscape form in convulsions

i touch the limited edition flesh and shrub rubbed up my place

its verdant after all that rain

the debris glitters in sparkling gutters

argent flotsam

jetsam golden

the toys now come alive in the shops

as i crawl into bed

already asleep

dreaming up the dying days of this year

hermit of north bondi

the male fire penetrates the female earth

the elusive ether trembles above the submissive invisible air

the water as rain

falling falling oh falling down

no one would believe this life i dont

the morning wakes up  and says im sore!

the night says why, where are you sore dear thing?

the morning says everywhere

tiny cold drops on my skin blow in thru the window

i type type type because that is what i do

the rain becomes insistent but what exactly is it insisting on

i remember deep in the night of love i remember how lost i was

i must be stumbling round in my own head

i cant believe the things i hear myself saying

at least im indoors at least im just dreaming

the cool rain is real but nothing more

steve kilbey is elsewhere

all of his voices get to roam free now

we jostle forwards demanding a platform

we start to kick up a clamour

we insist upon the gory details

we weasel and connive and we wriggle about

christmas day is over it exploded behind my eyes so pleasantly

at 3 a.m. i’m in a dream dressed in a towel

the street is very very quiet

not a breath of air the temperature is perfect

the future around the corner

i move thru darkness like shark

in my mind i see red

swimming up the blood dimmed tide

but in my strangest dreams i am the one who is bitten

on film i see my shoulders tense and relax

still i move thru the dark summer air like neptune come to life

down by the frothy shore the wavelets danced to their own tune

and the old stings of monstrous jellyfish suddenly flared upon my belly

the salty night air all pierced now with rain

but i never finish what i’m saying

wendy says you got lucky

i say why

she say because you got luck

but i wanna know where luck comes from

i wanna know where luck is and i

wanna complain to luck about 2010

i imagine luck is a fickle fickle thing baby

i imagine luck dont hang around forever

the ocean at this hour is a revelation

i fling down my towel i stride into green water

i am dosed upon some inexorable dream drug

i hurl superlatives around

as the water closes over my saintly head charybdis pulls me down

fathom after fathom

down to that lovely sea bed where the sea witch wait

oh shes an alien thing as she emerges from her cocoon

oh shes stranger than strange, stranger

oh she comes out of her place like a shadow slinking down a street

she murmurs something into a shell

she draws a symbol in the sand

she sees you then as you wait your turn

sees you on the infra red

sees you on the old sixth sense

sees you naked in her sea

with a drug upon your spirit

and a drowsiness upon your life

and in candlelight while you drown

the vortex spits you out at the bottom

i thrash like a little lamb to wake up a little

you want to hurt me but it will only hurt you instead

the night is full of floating stings of long gone scorpions

the night is so sleepy the night is so still

oh listen the rain has stopped

the rest is easy

the easiest thing of all

Click links below to download Newsletters for December 2010

Newsletter Sydney Opera House

Newsletter 2nd Dec 2010

Newsletter SK GB 11th Dec 2010

Newsletter Christmas Eve

http://www.tonedeaf.com.au/news/tournews/59036/the-church-the-thornbury-theatre.htm

The mood is celebratory as the church play the final show of a virtually sold out national tour, capping off what’s been a remarkable year for the band. There was the ARIA Hall of Fame induction and THAT amazing speech by front man Steve Kilbey, the release of a tie in best of record and a real feeling that after 30 years in the music industry, the band are in not only peak form but have few local peers in a stunning back catalogue.

Onstage in the dinner and show setting of the slightly faded grandeur of the Thornbury Theatre, the church are working their way in reverse order through their back catalogue playing one track from each release. Opening with ‘Pangaea’ off Untitled #23, the band appear relaxed and drummer Tim Powles steers the ship with his mallets on the kit. ‘Space Needle’ represents Uninvited Like The Clouds, while a smoky, almost jazzy version of Reptile represents the acoustic song re-workings of 2007’s El Momento Siguiente.

It’s at this moment that Kilbey’s increasingly shining reputation as a showman comes through, with guitarist Marty Willson-Piper playing Abbott in his correct pronunciation of the album’s title to Kilbey’s Costello. As much as ‘The Unguarded Moment’ may have been an albatross around the band’s neck in Australia, in this version off 2004’s second Liberation Acoustic series El Momento Descuidado album ,they now appear to play it without resignation; the occasionally gauche but nonetheless iconic lyrics a cipher for another time and place. Peter Koppes takes to the guitar to sing ‘Appalatia ‘off Forget Yourself, his smiling zen like manner contrasting against the exuberant Kilbey.

Introducing ‘Louisiana’ off 1998’s Hologram of Baal, Kilbey makes a sly reference to his then opiate addiction, and notes that the studio outside a Swedish country town in which it was recorded, ‘was near a train line and that ‘if you’re lucky you can hear the trains run over the tracks’. The pause prompting nervous laughter from the audience shows a deep vein of self laceration at the base of  the showmanship. ‘Comedown’ off 1996’s Magician Amongst The Spirits reflects a low point in the history of the church, where the band almost in effect split, and Kilbey declares it to be ‘an album [euthanasia campaigner] Philip Nitschke approached us about;’ while Willson-Piper declares it ‘the album that made Nick Cave seem like John Farnham … Whispering Nick.’

‘Metropolis’ still retains its beauty from 1990’s mixed Gold Afternoon Fix, while ‘Under The Milky Way’ off 1988’s Starfish is introduced as the ‘song they HAVE to play.’ In many ways they’re right – a ‘song about nothing’ has become an Australian icon that the church merely remain parents of. It’s long grown up, moved out of home and taken on a complete life of its own. After a hilarious false start involving a note from a fan being thrown on stage informing Kilbey that he had a shirt button undone, the song is given a nice bluesy twist, with harmonica replacing the infamous e-bow guitar solo.

‘Already Yesterday’ features off Heyday, a period of which Kilbey isn’t afraid to lampoon the band’s fetish for paisley shirts, pointy boots and Persian carpets, while by the time 1982’s The Blurred Crusade is reached, contemporaries Hunters and Collectors are ragged on for their sudden rise to fame. Single ‘Almost With You’ off the album, with its simple yearning ‘I’m Almost With You – is this the taste of Victory?’ refrain amplified by the bass anchor is a highlight of the night. The show proper is completed with ‘Tear It All Away’, a curious choice as it was not included in the Australian release of Of Skins & Heart, rather appearing on the now hard to get EP Too Fast for You.

Although the band have performed two sets in an epic night, they return for their now oft covered version of The Smashing Pumpkins’ ‘Disarm’, a song perhaps originally covered in return for the Pumpkin’s cover of ‘Under The Milky Way’, with Kilbey’s rich timbre far more dignified than Billy Corgan’s now middle aged whine.

There’s a real sense that the church – having ably proved that they are still a creative force over the last few years – are now undergoing a renaissance with the gig going public , who are lapping them up. The transformation of Steve Kilbey into a powerhouse showman and entertainer is welcome and as they prepare for another US tour which is creating much media and fan interest, you could be forgiven for feeling that 2011 will be 1981 all over again, and they’re suddenly one of the hottest bands in the country.

Jim Murray

madman across the water

well i am the timebeing

its 7.28 pm and its about 22 degrees centigrade

i sit at my kitchen table

i drift from my mansuit

and i float thru the skies of my beloved town

somewhere my feet are cold

somewhere my hair turns grey

somewhere my eyesight so dim and furry

who  am i who am i who am i

i still dont know i say merry christmas

i wish you all yuletide cheer

christmas is for small children

i was one once you know oh yes

i walked home from school on the last day

my mother and i did the tree

decorations from the old country with unfamiliar evocative smells

i was so small you see

i was just a boy giving it all away

christmas came n went tho i willed it to stay

i begged it to last forever

it was like a dream everything gone soft and glowing

i was half in england oh i loved the carols

christmas cards with geezas in top hats n carriages in the snow

fogged up windows n merry gentlemen all over the place

pine trees and sleighs and women with huge dresses n elaborate hats

oh they believed in jesus they believed in merriment alright

‘andsome fellas from 1856 squiring the ladies to church

or to the elephant n castle

yeah christmas spirit fill me with mixed (up) emotions

i feel lonely i feel pressured i feel released i feel silent night approach

round yon virgin mother n child reunion of the snake eyes on a pair of dice

while shepherds watched their flocks by night

and the three wise guys dressed like groucho marx

and the angel of the lord

can you possibly dig how magnificent this cat is

blond haired piercing blue eyes

at once both man n woman

those powerful beating wings as white as santa snow

straight outta heaven with some important gig

a saviour this time no less to proclaim

even the beasts getting in on the scene

the oxen all dewy eyed after ploughing the field

they grok the baby j and the can feel it even through their wooly heads

oh man let us adore him

prince of peace yeah

whats wrong with that?

walking on the sea of galilee

i seem to digress

christmas eve all around me tho i cant feel it

i will skype my kids i hope to talk

they are happy in sweden getting christmas in spades

aurora has written a formidable play

eve remains happy and bouncy

scarlet is learning swedish rapidly

meanwhile i plod away at my doom

wendy the w.w. says ha ha youve lost control

i do an interview with my brother rusty for a doco

i can just rave on n on at the drop of a hat

didnt you notice?

christmas eve is soft n gentle in sydney

living is easy for some i must not complain

i’m still behind in many ways

behind my mask

well i’m looking n i see whoever you want

changeable fixed rate

same old same old

but now completely different

different christmas same cake

old box but new present

same present different future

the myrrh n the frankincense n the gold

the elves and the rain dear

satan claws coming down the chimbley

may all your christmases be time being christmases

good yules you fools

go for it with my blessings

adore way

i believe in a god

he does lovely things so calmly

creative and brilliantly handsome

music drifts from his flute

the pelican arrives by the sea

the sea is full of sand

the lagoon is dark at dusk

the first star twinkles in its strange depths

mermaids sing out on the islands between the heads

the lord carrying his surfboard to the shore

perfectly muscled blesses the water

dolphins ride thru the waves to meet him

surfin’

vishnu in bondi

jesus is a carpenter working on that block of flats

he hammers away at the joins and the studs

my birthday soon he thinks

the jacaranda tree strains towards the lord

mithras himself a waiter at the italian place on ray st

he’s such a god no one can deny

the pelican just sits there waiting for something

i go down the pavilion and and have juice

the sky is quite green reflecting the nature of jealously

restless red blood pounds my temple

i throw aside the veil of civilization as i descend to the seas bed

down down down i go

my breath bursts in my bubble

the air sobs for release

at last i rise to find a fine mist on the sea

all the people are gone

how long was i down in that water i say to no one

the pelican on the shore twitches a little maybe its asleep

the clouds are rolling in alright like regulation grey blankets

the rooftops the chimneys the swaying hibiscus

the oozing nectar from the flowers stamen

the drone of bee

the swarm of zephyr

the night comes down gently

krsna strolls out from an indian restaurant

its that kind of night

magic yes ordinary yes enchanted yes everyday yes

the quiet house

the slightly rattled windows

the blinds sway n click in the breeze

the ringing in my ears

the pelican decides to leave

no one notices him climb into that grey warm air

its nearly christmas isnt it?

summer the parts

candy power lives in the night street that runs away into darkness

candy power dressed in dawn close up with the lark

candy power in a dream that i had about a motel

candy power on the boardwalk dressed like assyrian priestess no one notice

candy power bring summer bring european men with dark skin and blonde hair

candy power lying in the sand with her man who is so perfect

candy power in a convertible on neptunus street

candy power with her anti caking agent with her solid senders

candy power shes a real girl but she moves through my mind

candy power waits outside an office in the sunlight

candy power making breakfast for a stranger

candy power in a midnight hour streaming

candy power too tired to sleep too awake to hide

candy power laughing in the shadow

life is strange

love is strange

world is strange

candy is strange

talks all day long to men on a phone

at night the summer pulls her in and she sinks into heat

she lies in some night crying in a dream

she walks along alone with her crowd giggling thru her tears

i wonder wonder wonder why

now moon has gone right outta sky

summer sweet summer

enfold me then