The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

cain co

life somewhere else

at last

complex wistful violent muted hopeful spiritual arcane modern

melodic involved fragile weird quiet dirty clean

life somewhere else

a huge sweeping beginning with

the privateer

drunk on pink gin and the old yellow stars

the album begins with a voyage

a sojourn in strange waters

a rollicking rolling number

and  from there it careens from song to song

finally finishing up with

you will remain

a song for greg slay

isidore drummer who passed away a few years back

oh no you are not slain, you will remain!

to say too much more is to spoil things

its coming soon ( early next year)i guess

note to SKPers

your copy will be sent out in the coming days

each copy will be signed

love on ya

sk

hillman imp

lily strange bell yon child

the surging urging merging dark

far off in morningside far off in june

fiat lux or what you are the lark

more-ish dish of flying fish you wish

opulent pluperfect perfection a pinnacle

i turn the seasons wheel as slowly

for upon my shoulder my head like boulder

this frivolous flippancy of fops fakers and frauds

henceforth defence in govern meant to pepper mint

something blue my mind behind it all

i find it all amusing choosing the right worlds

you swirled me into the withheld hold hurled from hip

i dabble n delve near the reeds and the strings just gliss

your manikin approaches causes my falcon to hiss

no measure of the jester who just must of adjusted her

no quarter or dime for a daughter upon time

the pretender will not surrender the crown of king night

i serve no mortal tyrant though i am reliant on reliable stars

i am only aloud to move in diagonal squares but who cares

i severely sever the lever even steven leavin’ this evenin’

i hob nob with weave and bob i dob in the unicorn on the cob

feel free to feel something i hope you can cope hopelessly

touch my scars the healing mars the pain all over again

i got the music in a head i herd it embed i got it in stead

i reap  protection of some force of course it will one day be dead

i murder the slander slinger the moon singer the woe bringer

i embrace the face of the traces of jehovahs over study

vishnu i wish you knew him how universes come through him

jesus the anointed one the son the sun the nazarene with beast all gone

the sluts of babylon come on n on all tits and assyrian

those priestess slinky winky blinky

ooh they foment torment in a torrent

they ghost the dawn beyond our dawn

where all must walk

queen jack pawn

para 4 nail ya

anachronism rumour reverie impossible memory

be this then my little realm

intriguing penumbra

the background in shadow

the shadow in my lives

i say some things that cant be put into words but are still true

sometimes it takes forever to recognise where it all went wrong

this universe doth not run according to the law of man

man does not even run according to the laws of man

man cant trust himself because he keeps blowing it

man cant do what beast can do but

beast cant do what man can do

nature constrains us with subtle fetters

man imposes limits on himself he then accepts as real

man doubts man hesitates man too hot too cold

man is best and worst simultaneously

man starting singing  same time as birds and whales

a planet broke into song like a plate into pieces

i say jesus sang his words in the loveliest voice

son of man sometimes i hear off that mellifluous voice

when i’m angry or scared or sleepy or calm

the dreamy love lyrics of the nazarene

a love song to the whole little world

but man did not listen really i spose

killing for christ

a paradox so fuckin’ obvious

only a man could not see it

i bet the vegetal world grokked his sweet message

indeed i believe they may have enhanced his visionary jive

the disciples were like his backing singers and roadcrew

mary mags mighta been his chick …to me its unimportant

i say he moved full of grace but its impossible to know

he had some good ideas about being nicer than nice

his charisma would be radioactive

his anger would be molten steal

his love would be almost unbearable

his sadness would be deeper than deep

it didnt have to be this way

what is a song

what do the words mean if anything

we can assume nothing

sometimes intentions are masked

is the singer an actor

can songs be lies

can lies be songs

can promises be taken back just like that

if you fall in love and write a song what then

what then of the song when love no longer abounds

do we think singers do or mean all the things that they sing

that is preposterous i mean

most singers are too busy singin’ to do anything else

they dont have that much time for meaning things i suppose

its just gotta rhyme and have a good melody

or am i wrong

or has no one written the rules yes that is it

the idea of a song precludes responsibility i suppose

i mean yes

and i mean no

i mean some people say one thing and they fuckin’ do it

other people say something else and they fuckin’ dont

we are story tellers we are blues men

we are unbound by any rules

tom verlaine said to me in regards to songwriting

one day i realised you can do whatever you like

i wonder if you can take songs back

and if you can where do you put em

i wonder why good writers sometimes write rubbish

and bad songwriters sometimes write gems

i wonder who wrote the book of love

actually i dont know why anyone writes any of their songs

i only know mine and after a while i forget why i wrote em

what does that mean to sing songs you dont understand (anymore)

what does it mean when you sing someone elses song then

how are we to interpret our myriad idols words

are lovely words in an ordinary voice better

than ordinary words in a lovely voice

i mean what the hell are we trying to do here

no one can tell you the meaning of song

some of the phoneys are realer than real

and some of the real guys are phoney for certain

for certain songs are exempt from all analyses

for certain songs may break all non existent rules

the bridal waltz

the elegy

the music created by for love

for love of good music is in itself a pride

everyone hears it different

in the end we are mug punters everyone of us all

song will survive but  us must perish

when i am gone my songs will be as orphans in a cold world

for who will understand their weaknesses

for who will protect their naive beliefs

they will be auctioned off cheap in multiple deals

some greedy philistine will stick em on his hard drive

no one will know them or understand them again

or introduce em at night

what is a song a companion a friend

what is a song a woman or man

what is a song a time and a place

what is a song

i still dont know

Steve Kilbey and Peter Koppes will be dropping in to visit “Jack Off With Jack Shit” this coming weekend. They’ll be chatting to Jack and playing an acoustic tune or two, this coming Saturday 26th November @ 16:00PM AEST. FBi 94.5FM (Syd)
STREAM: http://www.fbiradio.com/

clinch westwood

it is left to me to unentangle all things

it is left up to me ….the down down down

i negotiate gravity

is it that obvious…..?

i travel in song

the silence before music begins

that is where my work is done

into that sudden space i project potentiality

i measure nothing and i fit it up with something

i slip in to a crack in a moment

i rescue the drowning time ghosts

i forge a chain of events

i surf the surging past

the decades are as foam to my eternal shoal

in all ways i am narrowing in on it

that elusive illusive divisive quality

that sublime idea feeling light

that instant you transcend every bond

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zlx-KLBBu3k

Angela Bishop’s full interview with Steve Kilbey and Iva Davies talking about The Great Australian Songbook (which features Under The Milky Way). See more at tennews.com.au

Sun-Herald article – 20th November 2011

Feature on Twilight at Taronga concert series – with Steve Kilbey and Tim Powles