The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

Click here to purchase. Love SK.

The brand new, never before seen DVD “long distance century buzzes and fades” is here! Gold Afternoon Fix 1990 tour. It’s ready, it’s done, the video Steve filmed of the church on tour, here we all are fresh faced and youthful and… smiling, there’s concert footage, there’s backstage footage, on the bus footage, at the airport footage, in the restaurants and cafes footage, meeting the fans, jamming, and being interviewed footage, it’s all here, some amazing stuff, the real behind the scenes stuff, never before seen by anybody anywhere, ladies and gentlemen here is a sneak preview… SK.

Click here to purchase…

working like a fiend editing this church vid

doing very little else

its starting to take its final shape i guess

sometimes its hard to know what should go in and what should go out

its a pretty unique thing in that i filmed most of it myself

so you see how touring looked from my perspective (literally)

a 1990 world of vinyl and tapes…no mobile phones

tho you do get a glimpse of the tour managers ancient computer

the cars were different the haircuts were different

i guess the music is different

beware this is a home made film

its sometimes jerky blurry and contains intermittent faults with the film itself

i am including all the live music that there was

the cameras microphone  couldnt handle some of it and its a bit distorted

but if you wanna see how we looked onstage in 1990 ..here it is…..

its no dark angry number

theres lots of funny stuff

lots of rambling and raving

especially by me (mostly backstage entertaining the punters)

some classic buffoons and dopey bimbos

roadies in all shapes n sizes

sit down to eat with us

check in with us

have a look round our room with us

get on the bus with us (gus)

hang backstage and have a drink n a smoke (theres plenty to go round!)

watch us play from side of stage

and feel the sheer mindnumbing surrealism of touring

no one has ever been inside a band like this

and there is film of  long previously unheard instrumental from the P=A sessions

if this period of the church or this period in music fascinates you

then this is definitely for you

we did a tour starting in april and ending in august that took in sydney london copenhagen munich spain

italy paris manchester texas NYC boston chicago atlanta vancouver  seattle san fran n LA

over sixty gigs in all

and some of it got filmed

and now its almost there

wow

youre gonna enjoy this

i guarantee it!

cold afternoon figs

its almost ready

its almost done

the video i filmed of the church on tour in 1990

here we all are fresh faced and youthful and…smiling….

theres concert footage

theres backstage footage

on the bus footage

at the airport footage

in the restaurants and cafes footage

meeting the fans

jamming

and being interviewed footage

its all here

some amazing stuff

(for instance when i film the little old lady who would be on the cover of jack frost )

there we are travelling around

covering all corners of the globe

long distance century buzzes and fades

youll be able to purchase it soon

for the first time

the real behind the scenes stuff

never before seen by anybody anywhere

ladies and gentlemen here is a sneak preview

more of the same

humming the sacred song of the city

my blessing all strewn i come to a gate

forever beyond it lies merciful fields

goldenest pastures of brilliant birds

within velvet shallows and folds in the curtain

within glades of witch and in hazel veneer

up sidewalks of hollywood in creepy old houses

on afternoons 23 years ago

days come and go like ants

in the eyes of a camera the vision is naked

in the woods and the cliffs and the track and the fawn

in the broken down river drowning in memory

in the tumbledown hill in a million lives

in a jar with the wind whistling in it

rattle snake skin newly shed on the way

troughs of time when you slump its quite pleasant

slipping away down the tunnel ahead

where

you never said

my former self

the fragmenting collisions of our worlds

we are flung far out then out past the mirror

we look inside then inside where the damage is

what tender humility scabbed over with pride

i am adrift then adrift in the quietude before life

in the endless morning of potential where i learn to sing

i learn to sing that song about every other song

in the breathless time of dawn i begin my song

the words are shadows

the drums are the knocks in the plumbing in some distant apartment

the bass is the traffic groaning in avenues of cars

the guitars are the one hundred planes in the sky above

the piano is the ringing in my own ears

the strings are the curtains flailing in the wind

the choir is the hum of great buses spitting out passengers

the sea fog slightly mutes all the notes

i am playing at a bar on the new jersey coast

underground in a blue room i strum my 12 string guitar

i open my mouths and out comes my voices

i open my voices out comes the stories

how the swallowed land recedes from us still

out of our memories out of our earshots

black madonna in a painting by jean paul mozart

study the methods and layers of appearances

understand the subtle lapses in seconds

when your god could rush in

or your devil rush in

or your crooked lines straightened with no delicious painkiller

or your miracle escape from the prisons of heaven

or the time you walked home by the light of a star

or your allegations that live in a swamp called desire

or your shabby excellence in putting it off

or your song about alaska making it hot

deep in these caves the songs reverberating liberating feelings within

i point my guitar at the silence and shoot down a song

it screams for a while and struggles to get up

but you clobber it with the kick and the snare

i got another one ….there……

the song tries to stagger but you step up behind it

the song turns around you catch it and bend it

you rip out its chorus you stretch out its verses

the old parts of the song lie in pieces around you

the new song comes along out of your head all rubbery

assassin in the shrubbery

a work of singular duplicity

of such simple complexity

and enduring brevity

yet ending inconclusively

dont look down

it looks like the wind but its not the wind

it sounds like snow but its not snow

it tastes like the clouds but its not the clouds

it smells like steel but its not steel

it moves like stone but its not stone

it meanders like a life but its not a life

it cries like a city but its not a city

it drowns like your love but its not your love

it talks like a day but its not a day

it waits like a flood but its not a flood

its beautiful like condensation but its not condensation

it flashes like darkness but its not darkness

its mouth is like a riverbank but its not a riverbank

it seems like forever but its not forever

it seems like only yesterday but it is not only yesterday

it hurts like hell but it is not hell

this thing

joint chief of staffs

a day without ugliness was declared

king stars and delicious sky

oh i feel it all ooze between the spheres

warmer than normal the womens love

the strapping men of the great steppes

snakeless writhing vegetal harvest morning

we throw open winters doors and a sun comes home

everyone fathoming existence deep down to its atomic nothingness

no more cruelty and violence

let life be exalted

let us move on from these regrets

the shallows with leaping fish

and diving birds

a poet somewhere knocking out his words

streets of lovely flowers

i have not forgotten appreciation and gratitude

every bud is the hand of natures god

each flat grey stone to be admired or thrown

in these heady days of forest

in these cool streams of opaline

why He is imminent and  immanent

oh yeah such a turned  on cat to think up all that

i say you dreamed it all up as you lay in a dream

i say you wave your hand and there it was

i submit therefore to inevitability only

yes that and you which are the same thing

the radical scrape of this whirling old world

has rubbed all the time of my prodigal clock

but the fruit laden pines with their lanterns and oranges

and the good happy crowds and the dark water lapping at the docks

and the postcard moment when you realise where you are

my mind suddenly relives old old times

strange times of being a boy and before it

when i was someone quite big and then no one at all

a rapid interior explosion of fracture

a slender chasm cracked in your mind

out comes years and years upon years

i must do something about that

it will only get worse

al go rhythm

ram drive 55

solid dream in enamel creme

go you fiends go you fools

so very very thirsty

we downed our tools

we are rocking in the new world

we have everything we need

star vomit out hit

we get direct feed

we connected up forever

the shot that we deliver

the lovely drum of thunder

the spooky voice  of the wind

clarion call of old old loves

waiting in the hall

yeah you gotta marvel if you dont unravel

that slow pumping minute that whole delicious year

shaking the plates an earth quaked

start to disappear

whats my motivation

i feel like i want to sleep and sleep

sleep and sleep and…..

send me a nice dream

the one with the warm white sands and the gurgling brook

the picnics the days without end

have made me so very sleepy

dads gone down the shops for a paper

the holidays go on and on

but tomorrow they are meant to end

i am sad in some way i dont know

everybodys here i suppose

my bath made me warm and quite drowsy

like distant christmases

the cheerful words to some carol still elude me

the sacred nothing i can remember

ive been a boy for thousands of years

playing and running and mucking around

the ladies arriving for a party

some of them kissing and pinching my cheek

i run around the dunes of the islands

i already knew this feeling back then

this sunday feeling on thursday evening

these glaring pinpricks of light in your eyes

nothing you take nothing you say

nothing you did nothing you need

but sleep seems inviting in some pleasant way

the dream of some summer in a strangers garden

the hum of the elderberry the grunt of the vine

please leave me behind

dont put me into that dream

just leave it intact

i know i might ruin it

let those splendid afternoons roll on unobserved

those mossy walled lanes that lead to the forest

those children so happy and well behaved

how we sang in school halls

competing in games

athletes and players according to  want

dream remain there where nobody touches it

i  feel sleepier still than ever before

i wonder

i wonder

i wonder

i wonder