The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

the road
the road baybee
like i never got off it
the road going on n on
another best western
another struggle with my suitcase
hey
i use my machine today
and it really works
the lines soften and kinda go smoother
wow…it really works….instantly….
what do you know…..
gremlins and jinxes
a terrible truck accident between wherever we were and portland
hazardous waste
someone definitely died i ‘d say
puts things into perspective
we drive on thru the days n nights
pine trees n little mountains
we stop at black bear restaurant
the waitress asks :
what do you all do?
i say (indicating trevor our lighting man) :
hes a male stripper n we’re his backing band
(an old old gag)
the waitress stands staring at trevor
who doesnt look like much of the stripper type
finally she blurts out half laughing :
thats freakin’ awesome!!
i do my yoga faithfully thru thick n thin
i watch a video about my new cosmetic machine
i try to sleep but i wake up early
i hear the birds tweeting at dawn
i look in the mirror
sometimes astonished by how old or how young i look
how fuckin’ weird to be 54 and be me
doing this of all things
dressing up in black jeans n jumping around
shouting out these meaningless/full songs
not eating much
not sleeping much
missing my wife n family so much
scarlet gets on the phone n wails n sobs
i miss you daddy please come home from ‘merica now
i’m sitting here now backstage in portland
we are in a very pine trees n quaint old 2 story house district
the sun pours pleasantly in the window
the summer is mild so far and gentle
it reminds me of sweden sitting here in this room
typo-ing away
trying to figure it all out
my place in the uni(corn)verse
havent eaten yet but must do
at truck stop saw a terribly obese man
leaning against a car like he was having a heart attack
hed just bought a three gallon cup of coca cola
a lot of people look sick here
its the kfc n big macs
its the sodas n the sausages
you see, with my american family back home
i feel sad for america
not in a snobby superior way
but as a close friend seeing someone getting unhealthy
i love americans by n large
theyve always fucking treated me fair n square
my wife is an american
and quite frankly
i wouldnt have it any other way
there are 2 parallel americas
theres the great mass of soda gulping sickies
who dont know where england is on a map (approx 70 %)
then theres your dylans n verlaines n morrisons
and theres your writers n actors n cool people
and never the twain shall meet
the best n the worst : america
the nice people so nice
the ‘orrible ones so ‘orrible
anyway
the usa doesnt give a flying deficit what i think
and who else does?
its already 5 17 and the day has evaporated before my eyes
never to come again
the afternoon sun is so cheerful tho
and the overgrown gardens…
tonight
more superglue for my finger
we leave after show
driving to seattle
where we play some radio show in morning
more long dark dangerous drives
hoping tonite may be a good gig
interviewer : what will you do tonite?
me : come out rocking n try to kick a goal
are you fit ?
fit for nothing
are you gonna win?
i can only hope so
but………

san francisco
we fumbled
we bumbled
we stumbled
technical difficulties derail us
we lose our momentum
i become derailed demoralised
i become unfocussed
my genii frees himself and pisses off
and sits in the rafters laughin’
ricky maymi says “dont put that”
why not?
weve just been to the apple shop where i
bought a new computer
having obtained a bitta van advance
tim bought a bigger n better one than me
good on ‘im then, eh?
yeah san fran had its moments
it did
some great bits
i put super glue on the blister, sister
but as it inexorably peels off
my fingers were sticking to the strings
and getting stuck
then the blister came back into contact
with the strings
and it was fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck
i was disappointed
if you liked the show
if you did
then i take nothing from your enjoyment
unfortunate conditions
we tried n we failed
nevermind
next we have long drive to portland ore-gone
takes 2 days
my sat night
sitting or driving van in u.s. wilderness
i love you guys
killer!

sitting here backstage in sf
with mr ricky of all people
last night ….la
L.A.
well we were ok
not the absolute bees knees
but we were ok
yeah ok is ok, ok
i dunno
i almost transcended but not quite
a few hours sleep
no real dinner
and 2 gigs in a day
will do that to a 54 year old prophet of rock
nevertheless
there we were delivering intelligentle ravishing rock
with all the best words n music my brains could buy
tim powles had an heroic night
a huge sweeping swathe of percussive thunder
god….these guys can really play
after gig no rick springfield
duh?
we hang around for a while
n then we’re off to lebec ca for the night
like half way to sf
i get to bed circa 430 in morning
i wake up at 7 n cant go back to sleep
i do yoga
n we drive to sf
too many people here now to write anymore
too much chatter
must do interview
soundcheck
have massive blisters on my fingers which got soft
and bass strings rip my flesh
you need calluses n i lost mine
each pluck i silently say fuck
gonna have to try something like methylated spirits
but no one in the states knows what that is
it turns blisters into calluses
or that liquid bandage goop
i should try my wonder gizmo on it
yes we did do an i/view with hustler
it aint no joke
dont hate me for it
we didnt talk about t n a just r n r
tonite
flowers in our hair
hare in our flour
i sing the body empathetique
i sing the wholly manchtra
i sing so i exist
i exist to sing
a song bout you
breathe in
breathe out
rock to the east of the west
the least in the most
steve kilbey too much too late
goodbye l.a.
gotta lotta other places to glow

solana beach
well…..
it was a rocky start
rocky in as
i feel like a bit punch drunk
we had many teknicle ishues
we made mistakes
tim had the mother of all headaches
we had a late n difficult soundcheck
we just didnt pull it off
sometimes even masterchefs get it wrong
it wasnt bad
but it didnt transcend
i need to transcend
i need to be swept off my feet
n i neeed to enter that sweet zone
that zone one must enter alone
that world you looking for all the time
i need that and i could not find it last nite
no transcendence
anyway
it wasnt bad
and thats good i guess
in spades
anyway
im sitting here backstage at the roxy theatre
im sitting here with a real authentic new york agent
and his name is ben shprits
and hes only twenty seven
and we drove round la in his white mustang
and his blackberry rang
n billy corgan apologised cos he aint coming tonight
n the traffic was jammed
and the jam was jelly
and the jelly in my eyes like a dead dogs custard
and we pulled into hollywood
and who am i?
hollywood : you are an olde geezer in shorts in a mustang
and blow me down i only had 4 hours sleep
and we blow into KCRW n play some songs
and guess what i find out later its being filmed
and did you see my sacred calves
and did you hear us talking
and we played our music
were we any good?
voice in another room : better than lassanite at any rate
and wow
i havent even gotten a chance to play around with my
cosmetic machine yet
i been so busy
we drove till 4 15 after gig
me n tim upfront listening to
the sweet
lou reed
sparks
and a loada stuff offa the “best glam rock record ever”
my cosmetic machine n its goo
sit in my hapsack throbbing with puissance
ready to un-age me
but havent had a chance yet
to electrolite my skin
but guess what
the machine helped my tinnitus
that free treatment i got on sunday nite
has helped my tinnitus…can ya be-leave it?
(youth worshipper a ha ha ha)
anyway
imagine it
hollywood
cosmetic machine
no corgan
but rick springfield is coming
and tiredness
n strawberry coughing
n my new york agent n his white mustang
n his blackberry goes peep peep beep blip blip
the ac goes whirr whirr
n we playing with van der graph generator soon
n we werent so good last night
we so sorry
maybe
just maybe
tonite will be the night
we hammer hollywood into submission
we sell our murch
we laugh and we fuckin’ get outta town
yeah
n the smog
n the people
n the tension
n the money
n the …
ah what the hell would i know…
my nameis kilbey
i was born to rock like this
its how they made me
wired to the gone world
see me rock on the radio
whats next?
an interview with hustler

like a leopard messiah
like a white lightning bolt
like a snort of amnesia up all of yer noses
like honey
like velvet
like powdered unicorn horn
like the vines and lianas
like the summer and the winter
like orpheus in his underpants
like a panther on vaseline
like an electric charge that jolts yer womb
like a slave to the rhythm of love
like a master with his finishing touches
like a lemurian temple slut
like the phosphorescent rim of the sun
like candy from a baybee
like a double shot
like a chinese burn
my little wander
makes me feel kinda fonda
i am a rock i am an island
i am yer fix and yer connection
i am sitting here patiently
i play bass and i sing
i am so old and younger still
i was born yesterday
the barsted son of shakespeare and annie oakley
the brother of sir galahad
the father of the moon
the husband of the goddess of cocaine
the lover of exquisita
the determiner of sex
the worlds forgotten bouy
in solana beach
in so cal
in north america
with my white beard
i aint a’feared
with my freckled skin
you know jus’ where i been
i’m over it
i’m under it
i am everywhere
see
everywhere at once
i wish i was me
dont you

rehearsal is a drag
bored
ringing ears
goes slow
eat unhealthy rubbish
laze around feeling ‘orrible
rehearsing in king louis 14ths studio
somewhere in the middle of nowhere
no phone
no net
no nothin’
lotsa noise
my eye blurry still
yes the creme n machine did work
but my tragic old face back to norbal now
(sigh)
off to rehearse again
feel unsafe on the road
the construction is grinding away as we speak
(same as it ever was)
peace n quiet elude me
jet lagged n with a cold
i feel miserable
i hate holiday inns
i hate touring
i hate waiting
i hate the noise
i hate my fucking shelf
(my id keeps falling off it)
eager to r0cknrollo
but all the rest bores my well toned ass off
miss my pool
miss my fam
miss my indy-pendants
what a moaner, lisa…!
anyway
seems a long way from rnr heaven
driving around
waiting around
the weather is rather chilli for summer
my feat are cold
my cold is in my knows
i’m lonely and tired n hungry
blah blah blag
feel sorry for me
feel very sorry for me
or whatever
you wanna piece of olde sk?
coming soon to a venue neer you
with love!

yeah baybees
im in the good olde usa
oh take me in promised land
lay yer milk n honey on this poor olde genius
well i’m here in solana beach so cal
in at the mansion of dan c
a very nice geezer whose read the bible
(cept for the boring bits of leviticus)
he had a veggie bar be queue
and i had a veg patty n a veg hot dog
a guy here has just used the latest gizmo n goo on my face
half my face is sposed to look younger now…but does it?
i tried the strawberry cough
i played pool
tomorrow we begin to re-hurse
a necessary evil
i apologise to my ears
i dream about mickey rourke
i walk on the slightly cold for summer beach
peter n trevor n i go to a juice bar
i have wheatgrass shot
i have mango peach blah blah smoothie
i wander round solana beach market
where you could buy life size leather dogs (why!?)
you could have
reiki
insurance
paint
toe rings
massage
yoga
pilates
woodlined stash boxes
cactii
boy scouts
church (not us)
un-ageing treatments
acupuncture
credit cards
rubber band guns
education
cancer research
great and hideous art
uka-laylees
etc etc
we drive through winding canyon roads
my hotel is next to a construction site (as i foretold!)
a kid starting runnin round n bouncing a ball
at 7 am sunday morning
when i try to sleep of jet lack….
solana beach is like avalon beach kinda
thats it
stay tuned
this is the online diary of a rocknroll tour
sk

i’m still not satisfied
i never have been n i never will
i wanna explain myself
i wanna explain this whole damn thing
i wanna explain why we are neither created by jehovah nor evolution
i wanna explain how this illusion is penetrated
i wanna call out for mercy and for peace on earth
no unnecessary killings please
anywhere by anyone to anything
yeah and keep our new l.p. on the amazon charts
yeah king fred summons old bach
yeah my mind has fractured
this is really how it is
i aint pretending with you now
get thee on thy stomach
and go about in dust alleth your days
i turn rods into serpents for my own back
yes i am the snakeman from your dreams
cold and hard like coiled steel flexing round the world i squeeze
the spirit of rock has filled me
the spirit of rock has taken me
it waits in my cortex the killer
it spirals out as i hit the stage
as the first note hits the atmosphere
the spirit of rock says
NOW ROCK TO THE EAST
NOW ROCK TO THE WEST
NOW YOURE ROCKING INNA HOUSE OF BLUE LIGHT
and lo and be hulled
and low and be held
and white happy moses drank the rich rice milk in vineland
and he led his people to a beautiful gig
and he said wait here for i must prepare
and so he retired to his wilderness room
where the burning bush appeared before him
for a long time he communed with the bush
and he learned of the mysteries of rock
its deep subtleties that can invoke ecstasy
but his followers grew restless
and said amongst themselves
he does not talk to us
he does not embrace us
he does not cherish us
but how were they the riff raff to know
the old man had much cherished his dear ones around the world
for 30 summers n winters it was said
he had led them through the nothingness
and at last had he delivered them here
24 hour deliverance he guaranteed himself in rock n roll
and after three long decades
moses had not withered or over ripened
but had fully matured as a receiver
no longer a grim or dim receiver
but a true receiver
and as he receives
he reflects back
and by a subtle art unbeknownst to any
a combination of ideas
by a movement
by a sudden intensity
by a flexing of muscle
by a slackening of tension
by a thrust or retreat
by a flurry of information
by words which will pierce your brosnan
by everything included
and by everything left out
by the way the drums are beaten to death
by the way the guitars howl like monkeys with rabies
by the way racket seems to come from everywhere at once
but its a controlled howling racket
its not a sloppy amateurish racket
its the spirit of rock and its mean and inchoate
but we got four master(bator)s here
controlling its possible explosion into absurdity
holding it right there
there on the brink
right there on the very edgiest edge
in the twilight world
where nothing means anything
and anything means everything
and as we play we will hammer you with poignance till you drop
you wont know why
you wont be able to decipher it
it will happen too fast
like a drunk slugger from a pub
versus
a nimble kung fu wolfe
we will disarm you and have you down
before you even know where you are
loud and stupid and brutal
suddenly that will make sense
simple and throbbing
then the words start up
oh they are not simple my friend
they are your own mirror
to see yourself and all i did was the frame
me?
i”m a desert wind in a telephone box
i dial yer #s up
i pick yer locks
i have transcended
i am not what i ever was before
you will see
you will see
the spirit of rock has taken me now
i invited it in so long ago
but i had to be truly ready
for he has inhabited so very very few before me
i have had a almost 40 year apprenticeship
until just so very recently
when he did fly into me mid song
and takeover and merger
and oh god the spirit of rock is truly infallible
none of you will ever know this feeling i guess
i’m sorry but i sacrificed everything so that i may rock
now lo
it hath come to pass
the spirit will say
ROCK TO THE NORTH
ROCK TO THE SOUTH
ROCK LIKE A BITCH
ROCK LIKE A BASTARD
ROCK LIKE HONEY
ROCK LIKE FIRE
ROCK LIKE VELVET
ROCK LIKE SEX
ROCK LIKE LIFE
ROCK LIKE DEATH
the spirit of rock where do you cometh from ?
ASK NOT ! says the spirit in a vox ac 30 voice
ok spirit of rock
i say
cowering in the spirits presence
i will not unleash it again until i play
let my people wonder then at signs they hear in my sounds
in my voice let them hear the voice of everyman
and let them know me by any secret name they choose
and let them buy tickets and murch and trinkets and cds
and let them come back again n again
and clap n cheer and grin from ear to ear
oh spirit of rock……
soon
soon
i will give you your freedom again…
and then
you can do whatever you like
with me

eye quack says
you damaged yer jelly my boy
50 per cent chance yer vision will always be blurry in that eye
he takes apart his model eye
and he explains how my jelly is no longer clear but clouded
clouded jelly in my eye
makes things furry my oh my
makes me curse n makes me sigh
clouded jelly in my eye
it accounts for the spots too and the snaky shadows
it accounts for the music that pours into me unbidden
it accounts for the new panther
reborn from the ashes
like a phoenix rising from a river
up from the pavement and into the stars
ad astra as my friend jules caesar used to say
this clouded jelly got me slurring n blurring my furry words
this miasma opaque
this retinal fog
this ” you mean my right eye gonna look like this?”
this its like a tinitus for the eye
a permanent blur
feel like i’m in a play
feel like the projectionist ‘as been drinkin’
feel like panicking….oh no oh no oh
feel like getting real high
like a fly
that you spy
when you die
as you pass by
on your way thru to the sky
you say “hi”
and then
“bye”
dont start me rhymin’ ha ha ha de ha
there goes old rhymin’ kilbey they say
as i dance down bondi road dressed up in my suit o’ words
and i chuck out free poems to the myriads of lil’ kids
who follow me along
chuckling with sheer delight
i come to the sea
the blue sea with my hanky on my head
like les down at bloody ‘astings just after the war
coz after all i’m a pommy bastard after all
that means a little inglish migrant kid
ashamed of my dopey pronunciation
in the land of the aussie he-men
so because of that
50 years later
a bottle of ricca donna explodes its corky
right into my jelly filled eyeball
and
COMPRESSED IT UNBEARABLY
never mind says shiva
open up yer third eye and behold
some other god said yer credit rating is
yoga vs drugs and its a one all draw
no i said crying and running distraughtly thru the doctors offices
which had turned into a dark scandinavian forest
a troll pursued me thru the firs
his breath turning to steam
run doodles i scream to my 2 kids who are there
but i cant see them clearly now
i can only see the left one not the right one
we arent the doodles….we’re the twillies….
i look closely
2 eighteen year old eye-dent-ickles
the apples of my good eye
daddy have you been drinking ? they ask
as i turn around to look for the troll
and the eye quack is there with his secretaries
thank goodness man he says
as a helicopter lowers down onto the roof
someone slips a needle into my arm
and i feel some narcotic ooze fill me with its slime
they help me into the helicopter
i’m all helpless
like clouded jelly
like blancmange all vanilla and wobbly n bobbly
i sit in my seat like a good boy
as we lift off from bondi junction
and out over clovelly and then out to the wild grey sea
from out of the sky
comes a white hot solid gold thunderbolt of lightspeed lightnin’
it penetrates our ship like marlon brandos knife thru butter
it pinpoints my eye
and it enters my head so damn slowly
my brain at last hotwired to the sky
i explode in a kind of orgasmic implosion
that sends bits of me to the far flung regions
beyond the reach of your puny languages
what do you know? i’m not mad
i’m an alien saviour with a rocknroll message
i’m a reincarnation of dante with a fender base
i’m a rhythm breaking fool with that non ending spool
the light spake to me
just like zara thruster
yeah it said
one word
it
said
ROCK!
no way i said
it cant be that easy …
but….
yet…
ROCK! the light commanded me again
will my jelly get better?
will my butter get jolly?
will i haul my decks with howls n brollies
JUST FUCKIN” ROCK spake the light
jesus de luz
jesus de luxe
jesus d christ
you see
the light was jesus
and jesus was saying
ROCK!
but whattabout my jelli jesus ..i moaned thru the cyclonic hurry-caine
do you need yer jelly to ROCK? the sun of man asked
no ….i said
but what about….
i realised i was in a hospital bed
a drip up my nose
a drip up my arm
a drip up my ankle
drip drip but never drop
my mum n dad sat there looking concerned
mum had something on a plate
it was crimson n it wobbled
its your jelly son they said
oh no i said falling backwards into anaesthesia
deep and warm tho it was i wandered in its semi oblivion
half blinded
my ears still ringing miles above on the outside
where i suddenly pushed up from the sea bed
and burst thru a silver surface
and i truly clambered into the sky
steering by the cloudy jelly like clouds
my cameras filmed away thru their vaseline lenses
i was a free spirit
i was a swimmer in a vast sparkling pool
i was surrounded by music all of it so magnificent
it would make our grandest symphony sound like a squeak
jehovah appeared in his glory
and he was like …glorious…
and angels
everywhere
olive trees
grapes
trellises flowers
new eden
lemuria
its all connected up says old jehovah
and he smiles
and i say
errr…what about my jelly jehovah
and he says
go forth and rock yer best
and come back n see me soon
i descend home with a police n angel escort
heavens devils
and i wake up
here
typing away
and still i say
what about my freaking jelly?

that night i dreamed
i dreamed i was a musician
some strange old slightly special musician
although i didnt feel special
out of favour with the times
banished from the courts
struggling through some heavin’ land
setting up in dark suspicious places
we played to the riff raff n the hoi polloi
we played to the professors and their ladies
we appeared before the kings of baltic states
we were in ballrooms and beer rooms
and we made our sound in a house of ill reproof
but a voice said
a voice in another place
a time not before or after but hyper-during
while you read this line
in that other time
things may be faster or slower depending
this voice
it told me what i should do
and it said
you must play
the fetters must be smashed
you must make your music harder and softer
the intervals must seem like chasms if you want em to
you must concentrate on every line never rushing ahead or behind
you must see each story unfold as you sing it
you must enjoy it everytime
lose yourself
forget yourself
immerse yourself
refresh yourself
can you rock like a king? the voice asked
can you rock like a snake or a lark?
can you rock like a bitch/bastard buttkickin’ whatnot?
can you be tender like the inside of a loveletter
can you be you you you you
i took my axe
someone said
hey you
when you goin’ on?
i shrugged n indicated my mates
they all shrugged n indicated me
ok i said
we strode on and the people clapped n whistled
some of em rushed down the front
some called out individual names
i ran on n plugged in
the sound of a huge mechanical bird taking flight
began to start up
my cohorts hammered at their axes
the audience moaned in surprise
as we started to achieve liftoff momentum
my instrument was a pulse
a beacon in a maelstrom of sturm und drang
the shiver of thin pieces of metal
their vibrations shortened and lengthened
a heartbeat thudded in the centre
the voice begins to tell me what to do
rock to east it says
now rock to the west
the voice goes on shouting instructions above the melee
and….

im standing there on that stage
the place now empty
a few tired people cleaning up the mess
no sounds echo round n round
someone taps me on the shoulder
c’mon man…we’re leaving now