sometimes
i dont know what to say
the words rush into my mind
and get jammed as they fall onto the page
beauty still staggers me
lovely music moves me to the other place
dylan or bolans words move through me like ‘lectricty
gods grace…..oh pray for it unceasingly
i ride the rollercoaster and i go up
kilbey down is a deep sordid horror
but kilbey up…..ah …i wonder have you ever been this high, childe?
when someone shuts up that nagglng voice in my head
when someone in the next room says
steven you are cleared for liftoff
oh to have this head without all those voices
i spent twenty years in an asylum in france
just to escape these voices….
nevertheless
and notwithstanding
i start to ascend the great arc of a mood swing
its the paint you see
the cobalt blue
inhaling its deadly vapours all day longer
i have gone quite quite strange…oooh rather!
and now
i lick the cobalt straight from the tube
and guess what?
MY FUCKING TONGUE NOW GLOWS IRIDESCENT BLUE!
aside from making me completely crazed
i feel much myself at home
you think i only got this one mansuit?
yeah
well youre right actually
but
god i’d change it if i could
change it for something more a la mode
you see before you the ravings of a ghost
a ghost in a suit
a ghost of a chance
wholly 100% ghost
spirit come and take me now
in some other un-universe
k/k is finally done
a thing of gentle love and beauty
a thing of subtlety and wonder
a thing of such exquisite charm
2 of the best doing what they do best
mk with his panoramic vistas
his attention to detail
his many simple things which imply a cosmic complexity
his honesty and integrity
his own original one-off take on music
even the simplest things sound like him
of course i always mention glenn bennie
another melbourne guitar wizard
these 2 guys whatever they do
and completely different to each other
IT SOUNDS LIKE THEM N NO OTHER!
no thats no easy feat
to sound like no other
in this world of imitation
originality is number one in my book
out of all those geezers n gals
who pick up that guitar for the first fucken time
to those who persevere and learn to play C
to those who go on to play in bands
finally culminating n people like mk n gb
who let the universe speak through them
when they play n compose
they are great artists manipulating the palette of rock
they cant help being themselves
both serve up scrumptious backing tracks
fit for me
yes me
and i dont sing on any olde thing
but when i hear mk n gbs music
the words go winging into my heart
saying sing me you crazy olde hippy sing me
and my voice wraps around those words
and in my mind i see it all unfolding
i walk through mks muted world of fogs and sighs
stripped of any great racket
the walls are transparent
you can see n hear n smell the great ocean
oh such clean songs
oh such simple inevitable songs
oh why hasnt someone written them before?
mk works at music like a watchmaker
fitting tiny parts together
or like a fresco painter preparing a wall for a master
a man who appreciates great music MUST contain distance
to these intriguing pieces
i do my thing
you know by now what that is
ambiguity
dislocation
melancholy
allusion
my voice croons intimately in your ear
i’m in the room
with you
so close
i am so close yet that music is so distant
and what i’m saying is kinda sad
but yet you feel so happy
and…
oh
being pulled in all directions here
the artists are stacking up juxtapositions
you strive for reconciliation with these various mixed emotions
you are elevated as the emotions tighten pulling you up
you reach the end of a song floating in yer disbelief
there may have been better lyricists before me
i do not deny
and to them i am truly indebted
but i do here n now
declare myself
the best in the world at what i do
no other has my depth my subtlety my vocabulary
nor my deep humilty (HA !)
no one exploring my field of melancholia
all to bring you that strange happiness
only an olde master like MOI can dream up
unpopular i maybe
but on my own excruciatingly high expectations
i am getting better n better
i mean its hard when youre as GOOD as MOI
its hard to get much better but….oh…gotta push that envelope
gotta try to….
gotta hold on to my tradition
gotta use all my tricks
gotta use all my voices
voila
in the least amount i will imply more
i am an implier
i imply this n that
you infer this n that
you do all the work
you imagine it all
i aint telling you much
you gotta lotta room to move
mks givin’ya even more
go ahead
buy all my new records n weep
cos i hit the mark everytime
and baby
aint that what you expect from an old master bastard like
me?