The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

avida dollar$

the players assemble

it never gets any easier

from macbeth to mack the knife

we read our lines

we make the gestures

locked into character

we stalk these stages

we move in and out of focus

we embrace and ignore the others

at the end of long days suddenly

the theatre closes down

out on grim snowy streets we are adrift

i knock on various doors i find

in a corridor of doors

in a roomful of white gardens

in market place within a globe of snow

i am sorry i have never been outside before

i do not know how to act when i’m not acting

once everything was taken care of

i knew what to say and when

the bullets were blanks

the sky and trees just props

the music written especially for each scene

singing and dancing and moving to cues

out here where life is harsh

this winter bores into me

my words unheard declaimed from a gutter

the birds sing ugly songs

incessant upheaval

impossible weariness

each new day staggered out of future

yes i deserve everything the good and the bad

a snake on a ladder

a viper in romes bosom

a slow worm on a fast track

we should undo all that we did

the void is kinder than we’d imagine i’m sure

otherwise it would not be

nothing has become something

sometimes the opposite is true

my characters taught me much

and i marvel how they possess me still

and how time flies when you having your best shot

and time stops when you forget just one line

and opening nights and the end of a run

in a chemical glow of faces and seats

the audience awaiting just beyond the crimson curtains

merciless critics

adoring fans

the rustle of programmes

maybe only last year

i strode on the stage

prospero to the nines

my cloak with its magical signs

a tower on a wild isle

but i was a magician among the spirits

and how ariel obeying my commands

shot thru the sky on an almost invisible harness

winched by the stagehands in another universe behind the facades

and the mechanical waves went up and down

and at the movement of my staff

the sound of thunder

the flash of  artificial lightning

the vague sound of torrential rain

how they roared as i cast my spells into that firmament containing mayhem

ariel calling down the storm

turmoil vivid like a scar

all shot through with delicious revenge

afterwards as i took off my makeup

the players chatting quietly and smoking cigarettes

i was still in the mirror with miranda and caliban

and the isle swirled around my wild eyes

outside here

the real life

waking from a sweet fleeting dream

up against the present stretching on all sides

absolutely impenetrable

the past is inviolate

even for prospero

who lays down his magic

and retires into obscurity

improbable combination

outside sydney flies past

century on century

everything already forgotten

the life that had so much meaning

the show must go on

so you say

the flash fades

the clouds curdle

little stories going on in between everything

atoms smashed

details noted

space ahead of its time

we were all fools

now lets get back to work

except for the holidays

when we stand in a bar screaming at a screen that can never hear

content has been modified to fit the width of your thoughts

blurred sound

the confining frame

thin film

loads of gloss

an increased level of crime

the appearance of some indefinable lazy anger

i struggle with my distant regrets

i mean what would you do

eventually we drop out of the futures

drink a cup of kindness yet

xerox debris

travel trash

you jet some

you float some

return home

return address

the following damage

burnt myself trying to get warm

repeated myself but only once

harmed myself unarmed

all those drugs what you expect

cant remember the womans names

my account is empty

soon someone demands that you pay up

the phone rings on n on in a deaf mans home

the numbers are hidden

maybe i’m just seeing something in it

the weather is still

very warm

tomorrow something else

i kinda got used to being lost

and i found it

amusing

http://admin.moshtix.com.au/event.aspx?id=45742&ref=quakeaid – 21st March 2011

Tim Powles and Steve Kilbey are amongst some of Sydney’s most popular musicians and entertainers who are joining forces to raise much needed funds for the Christchurch Earthquake relief effort. All money raised will go to the Christchurch Earthquake appeal via The New Zealand Red Cross. Click on this link to purchase tickets and help sell it out!

If you would like to make a further donation, please email quakeaid@y7mail.com

Download the post-tour newsletter. Click on the heading to take you there.

Newsletter 28th Feb 2011

phrygian archer

rented a dvd of the odyssey made circa 1997

watched it with the girls

aurora in particular going thru an acute ancient greek phase

anyway here are a few thoughts

it was 2 part tv mini series originally

ok

the minuses

there was no siren scene

c’mon guys thats like alice without the white rabbit

its like narnia without the white witch

its like the bible without goliath

i dunno what were they thinking….?

2. no land of the lotus eaters no cattle of the sungod

3 the sea monster which eats laocoon is simply silly

4 poseidon appears as a corny face in a wave

and has a dopey reverbed hollywood voice

5 the north wind god with the brooklyn accent

however the pluses easily outweigh the minuses for sure

armand assante is a very good odysseus

noble brave and handsome

sometimes looking very battered and humbled

at other times regal and very hawk-like

a sterling performance that you will enjoy

one can see why the ladies all woulda fancied him

you can see why his men would have been devoted

the depictions of his time with circe and calypso are feverish dreams

in circes palace odysseus n the boys lie around

eating grapes peeled for them by a bunch of saucy supernatural handmaidens

so out of it on hedonism they dont notice the years flying past

its a pretty far out scene and a shame odysseus had to drag those guys outta there

merely to get eaten up by various sea monsters

when they coulda still been there now

drinking wine and taking a bath with some ever youthful immortal bint

so off their trolleys that months pass like moments

and moments like months

look sign me up for this and dont bother waking me out of it either

i can think of worse ways to spend an eternity

anyway circe is a real fruity fruitcake of a witch

when the big O does not succumb to her tricks

she realises how sexy our hero is

and drags him off to some very kinky witchy nooky

vanessa williams as calypso is a different kettle of fish

a divine sea nymph horny as all hell

but unlike circe who was just using our hero for kicks

calypso falls hard for our dude

by this time odysseus has lost his crew

hes washed up on an island inhabited by calypso n her girl posse

another bunch of pseudo egyptian mute cuties who giggle n coo

as they watch odysseus and calypso get it on in the old cave

odysseus gets sucked in again (ooh mr humphries…!)

and spends more long years wrapped up in some pleasurable ennui

dancing around with the nymphs banging the drum and calypso

she washes him in the lovely sea pools on her island

like a holiday resort in a modesty blaise movie

eventually hermes shows up n calypso watches our hero leave

with palpable emotion

hermes is kinda nifty as a super gorgeous gay god

all golden smirking and supercilious

he hangs in the air with his golden nappy thingy

i kept thinking he would burst into a jobriath song

anyway

even after calypso offers him eternal days of sex n drugs n rocknroll

he turns em all down n leaves for home

now at home greta scacchi is his wife besieged by a bunch of suitors

lead by the very evil cunning handsomely wicked eric roberts

you just know all these nasty types gonna end up on odysseus’ bad side

and of course eric gets it last of all

this is an amazing scene and old oddy gives it to em good

hes pretty self righteous however for a dude who just spent a decade

having fun with a couple of hot immortal strumpets on pleasure islands

but there ya go a nice double standard

eventually reunited with his queen

all is well in ithaca

and everybody here agrees a good time was had by all

yeah

sorta recommended ….

http://www.thebackstagebeat.com/2011/02/the-church-future-past-perfect/

By Ange Alex – Feb 24, 2011 – THE BACKSTAGE BEAT (with photos)

When “the church” planned their US tour, they did it with amazing verve. It was an impressive feat to say the least as they were set to play three albums in their entirety in one night! The ‘Future Past Perfect’ tour was almost unbelievable as they would be covering each decades of the band’s career. Most groups, even young ones would never try to take on performing 34 songs in one night. Three amazing hours of music played to a packed house in the heart of trendy Little Five Points. the church pleased their fans in a way that only these Australian boys could do.

Steve Kilbey started the night off by welcoming his fans and opening up the first album of the evening “Untitled #23?. This album was by far their most progressive. All ten of the albums songs were performed during the first act. With the crowd at their mercy for more, the church paused for a quick ten minute break.

Coming back to the stage, it was time to take a trip back to that wonderful year, 1992. “Priest=Aura” was their seventh release and featured fourteen songs for your listening pleasure. However Tuesday night, it was only for the fortunate ones at The Variety Playhouse.

Finally, they made it to the breakthrough album from 1988 “Starfish”. This album was one of their most successful as it featured the popular song “Under the Milky Way” which is still heard on Atlanta radio to date. You could hear the crowd sing along as the chorus came in. I couldn’t help but sing along myself. When the full ten songs on the album were performed, everyone could feel that they had witnessed a great night in music and music history.

All in all, “the church” remains a solid, tight-knit band that will hopefully make their way back to the states and to the great city of Atlanta.

autumn sooner

midnite in australia

words fill up my head

my vain brain torments itself like picking a scab

gonna hurt my pain

think of you again

i thrash out my time through colour on paper

the photographs of our memories have faded into woodwork

the stars are behind the light violet clouds

someone arrives downstairs

a door closes and all is silent again

finally kick one goal and i’m jubilant

on almost everything i am divided

a civil war between the men and the women

casualties casually staggering up the evening, primrose

oh its still warm

the back door is open

the kids are asleep

the black cat nips around like a panther on angelfruit

wow some instinct hurls him about

attacking stuff and feinting and rolling around like a kung fu star

my eyes hurt in this computer electric light

my blurry eye opens out light like a sun

i wipe away at smears on my lenses

but my vision is been dimmed

sometimes i do long for rest

wake up somewhere else someone else sometime else

in australia its 12

the witching hour has commenced

they say my house is haunted now

will i still get my bond back?

i have seen her too

that ghost out the corner of my mind

i dont care one way or the other

luck can change

everyones a player

the dice fucking rolls

66 66 66

round the board you go

your credit card has demagnetised your room key sir

your message has been deleted

invite your friends to join you on some new sight

ok

one of my minds just blew a rotor

we can still land on just one

oh dear its the left one still working

thats it for tonight then

muse inc impropriety unlimited

either you got it

but i dunno

maybe you can work on it

maybe theres a billion ins a trillion ways

maybe theres a hundred thousand lives you will lead

think of all those days

wheres it all coming from

all of it….?

all that stuff on the shelves of shops

all those words on the blind poets lips

all the electricity

all the plasma

all the music never running out

i am insane i am sane i am tuned in to an other frequency

i voyage thru my sadness madness

memories fill my billowing melancholy

i see bird phantoms in the clouds

after a while an invisible hand guides me

i had crossed some line

a bermuda triangulated inside my head

i go all the way back you know

like we all do

never was a time we did not all live

i have been ripped from other times clawing to hang on

i have died and woken up a century before my birth

and i take it all in on somehow

this life came provided with my muse who lives in my head

sometimes i try to get a good look at her

yes its a she you know because i hear her voice

the words that come to you now

or say on priest = aura

dictated in some foreign glyph

my muse is ancient baby

sometimes she say think of it yourself you lazy bastard

othertime after we have been close for a while she let me have it

right between the eyes

its so fucking obvious

right between the eyes

creativity everybody got their own way

everybody must do this for themselves or be nothing

this is holy profane brilliant stupid new old

a real comi-tragedy a blockbusting flop

use your hurt

transform your joy

dive deep

skim the shallows

one at a time

all at once

what would i know…?

trust me i’m an expert…..!

revere saraswati

even if she is non existent it cant hurt

i walked around with a picture of her in my pocket

i took it out n i thought about how i wanted to excel

to glorify god

to get a big pat on the back

to soothe beasts

to pull chicks

to impress some prick  in some stupid bar

to continue on to soldier on for art n show biz

because i was hooked on the applause

and i needed the cash

and i liked making people feel good too

it turned me on to turn people on

suddenly my band improves all the time

our conditions have been somehow most favourable

we hung in there

everything flows nicely

we attract like attracts like

its all a fluke

you’ll get your turn

work hard

slack off

jack off

crack up

break thru

shake up

its all valid

its all a game

all of it

take it seriously just the right amount

have a fucking laugh at yourself

have a good cry for me

drowning in girls in my own house

hanging on to a kitten

struggling to get one thing done

fumbling with the keys

at the door to eternity

http://www.suntimes.com/entertainment/music/3786758-421/fans-worship-church-through-three-album-show.html
Fans worship Church through three-album show – 11th Feb 2011
BY JEFF ELBEL

Four months ago, veteran psychedelic pop-rockers the Church were inducted into the Australian Recording Industry Association’s Hall of Fame. Beloved by fans as the band’s brooding beat poet, frontman Steve Kilbey seemed unusually gleeful at the time. Following a stream of wisecracks and unrehearsed anecdotes which left the crowd in stitches, guitarist Marty Willson-Piper deadpanned, “We’ve worked so hard to be aloof and enigmatic — all ruined in 15 minutes, after 30 years.” “Aloof no more,” interjected Kilbey, making an oath repeated endlessly on YouTube.

At Park West on Friday night, however, the Church were back in character and rebuilding their aura of mystery. The band thrilled ardent followers by weaving musical spells full of grand gestures, menacing atmosphere and stratospheric radiance. Though Kilbey was quick to thank his enthusiastic audience, nary a yarn was spun outside of the cinematic lyrics to tone poems like “Anchorage” and “Swan Lake.”

That suited the packed house just fine. People came to hear Church music, and they got plenty. Though the band has earned respect for keeping nostalgia at arm’s length, their “Future Past Perfect” tour used it to advantage. In order to expose the maximum number of listeners to a complete performance of 2009’s critically lauded “Untitled No. 23,” the group also enticed fair-weather fans with a full-album presentation of their 1988 commercial breakthrough “Starfish,” featuring radio hits “Under the Milky Way” and “Reptile.”

But the band’s true love gift to acolytes was the inclusion of 1992’s “Priest=Aura.” The album presented the Church at its most inscrutable and aloof, and was never toured in America. Find a clutch of devotees who have worshipped the Church steadfastly since “Under the Milky Way” first shimmered across the airwaves, and “Priest” will likely sit atop their collective list of favorites.

The band’s point, naturally, was that its newest material stacks up favorably to these classics. It was hard to argue. Guitarist Peter Koppes’ elegant figures intertwined with Willson-Piper’s deep twang during “Deadman’s Hand,” as foreboding a portrait of oppression as any found on “Priest=Aura.” The rarely played “On Angel Street” found the group stretching into new avenues of sound. Undulating like a half-remembered dream of Pink Floyd’s “Welcome to the Machine,” the song’s synthesizer pulse suggested the unsettling intrusion of a distant car alarm. Kilbey’s audio-film noir played about the emotionally raw edges of an unraveled relationship. “You should change the message on your machine,” he intoned. “Makes me cry when you say we’re not at home.”

The band’s resident producer and drummer Tim Powles anchored the show superbly – notably so, since two thirds of the material predated his tenure with the band. “Priest=Aura” was the band’s final album before Powles’ involvement, and he tackled songs including the shadowy “Ripple” and lushly chiming “Feel” as if they were part of his DNA. The taut “Lustre” was a showcase for Powles’ powerful and creative percussion, and the black humor of “Witch Hunt” was underscored by his cabaret flourishes.

After a brief intermission and change of clothes, the band returned with “Starfish.” Though anchored by its two hit singles, the complete package exposed the depth and quality of an enduring pop collection. The spooky “Blood Money” began with the interdependent guitar arrangements that have rendered Koppes and Willson-Piper equally indispensible to the Church sound. During deep cuts like “Hotel Womb” and Koppes’ own “A New Season,” Koppes often performed beautifully arpeggiated melodies with great finessse, while Willson-Piper’s right hand became an unfettered blur. The hard-charging gallop of Willson-Piper’s “Spark” was reminiscent of anthemic 80’s rockers The Alarm.

The night’s warmest response was reserved, of course, for the jangly “Under the Milky Way,” which Willson-Piper performed on a battered acoustic guitar that looked like it might have traveled every mile with the song over its 23 year lifetime. But the rarities made the night special, despite Kilbey’s admission of having flubbed “Starfish” chestnut “Antenna.” “We’ll make it up with this one,” promised Willson-Piper, grinning as he launched another song.

Jeff Elbel is a local freelance writer.

********************************************************************

“I’ve seen Pink Floyd, I’ve seen the Stones, the Who, The Cure, REM,
Midnight Oil, the Waterboys – this is the best concert I’ve ever seen
in my life. And where are these bands now? who is standing on top of
the scrap heap mountain of smashed guitars with a sold out show packed
to the gills in Chicago? I saw beautiful maidens. Raven haired girls
who reminded me of her. These are the great minstrels from royal
courts, these are the troubadours of emperors, queens, and heros.
An intoxicating pleasure of music and memories, of possibility, and
dreams. I admire the Church for their high bar of quality and
integrity. from a distance I saw them as graying haired men, yet with
the faces of 20 year olds. some sort of resurrection had taken place.
Some fountain of youth that great passion, intensity and soul music
creates. it was all unrivaled. Ah, the variety of sound, from cosmic
space jazz of the future to a punk rock band in the 70s. the heartfelt
cathartic belting joy of ‘anchorage” that had tears streaming down my
face. The whole entourage playing for keeps. I stood up, cheered, and
saluted you. and so from the deep deep bottom of my heart, I say,
thank you, thank you, good sirs.”
– Abid

http://brooklynrocks.blogspot.com/2011/02/church-live-photos-from-future-past.html

Click link above to view their photos

This past Thursday, the church brought their “Future Past Perfect” tour to a full house at B.B. King’s in Times Square. The concept of the evening was that the band would play the following albums in their entirety: Untitled #23 (2009), Priest=Aura (1992), and Starfish (1988). Over the last few years, some indie and alt-rock bands have played one of their classic albums from start to finish, this is the first time that I’ve heard of any band taking this concept to such a grand scale.

The concert was nothing short of impressive. As the band took the stage, Steve Kilbey came to the mic and said “We are called The [pause] Crouch and we are going to give you Untitled #23”. There was a minimal amount of stage banter after this as the music and the art (projected on the screens) did all of the talking needed. This first set was stellar so it is hard to pick out a individual song or two but “Anchorage” was particularly stunning as the band added a backing vocalist (Tour Manager Tiare Helberg) and an additional guitarist to create a haunting and memorable soundscape.

After a twenty minute intermission, the band returned for Priest = Aura and gave a shout-out to Jay Dee Daugherty who was in the audience (Jay Dee played drums on Priest = Aura and toured with the church for a few years). While I don’t think I gave this album the time of day when it originally came out, the band’s live performance made me realize that I have been missing something. Particularly stellar was “The Disillusionist” where Steve Kilbey became more animated than I’ve seen once he put his guitar down. The other track of note was “Film” where this melancholy instrumental seemed to perfectly ramp-down the second set.

As the band went off for the second intermission, I could hear Marty saying something about needing to rest his hands and that made me really pay attention to the amount of energy and precision that went into this 3+ hour show. On the audience side, not everyone was able to appropriately pace themselves. One “nice” young man staggered right into me after the second set and I watched as his date was trying to help him get his arms into his jacket sleeves as he was having no luck on his own.

For the last set, the band played Starfish from start to finish and the album has aged well. While I’ve heard “Under The Milky Way” way to many times, the overall album doesn’t have that “big” (aka dated) 80’s sound that many bands were utilizing at that time. Songs like “Destination” and “Hotel Womb” sound just as vital today as they did when originally released.

Someone sitting on the floor obviously brought a pocket camera into the show and filmed the last song of the night – “Hotel Womb”. My post-show thoughts are that an official live album/DVD from this tour is really needed as this was a show not to be missed. – From Brooklyn Rocks