The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

me
the problem
me
the solution
self obsession
ego stroker
but how could i have done it
without kilbey
i couldnt just cut off the bits i didnt like
or could i…?
can ya have bob dylans songs without his weirdness?
can ya have kilbeys trip without his malarkey?
not yet
or stay home
listen to the records
imagine i was st francis assisi
listen to me apologising for what?
being an uncertain awkward stubborn young man?
its not like i killed or robbed or even punched anyone
i was….occaisionally rude and thoughtless
obviously i’m remorseful or i wouldnt write about it now
anyone actually reading my blog
is supposed to understand that i am not a perfect man
i was unpleasant in some ways if you tried to deal w/ me
but the people dealing with me were often unpleasant as well
music biz types begging for some comeuppance
i treated most nice people nicely
i’d say i wasnt the worst bloke you ever met
but i was flogging some trip about
and oh how it tires me now to think of it
still
i tell it how i saw it
i dont try n recast myself as man of the people
i was never that
i was always nice when meeting someones parents or children
i never kicked any animals either
i was always clean
my nails were never black
my ears washed behind
i said thank you everytime
i tried not to make the ladies cry…..i could never bear it at all
i was very envious
the biz was all based on an actual index
ie the charts
and the charts were real important in the biz
and you could instantly see
you were much bigger than these
and much smaller than them
why were we obsessed with bigness n smallness?
because the church was our team…right n wrong
and we wanted to beat the other teams
thats the nature of it….or it was to us
we hated to see bloody awful teams up the top
but we also were happy when some of the underrated bands
got some accord
we loved a slew of aussie n indy bands n we mentioned em often
we just bloody hated the 80s rubbish
oh god
there was so much rubbish in the eighties
I COULD FUCKING SEE IT>>>>>WHY COULDNT YOU LOT???!
the church was a beacon of fidelity to the glorious golden period
when rock was fucking cool
and exciting
and the lyrics were …you know…kinda poetic n meaningful/less
and the blokes were blokes but with long hair n cool guitars
like stones dylan beatles
i LOATHED the thompson twins n all that horrible bloody row
i LOATHED spandau duran boy george anything like that
i hated the sentiment
i hated the look
i hated their stupid voices
the shallow vacuous words repulsed me
people say what books didja read back then?
the surrealist manifestos by breton
the sutras of patanjali
herman hesse and appolinaire
i read the bible i read the koran
i read the pali sutras of buddha
i read satre and i read biographies of stars
the lyrics of the eighties were anathema to me
consider my first lines on the first song on the first record

in the empty place
the soul stripped bare
of skins and heart
and i come apart
in your icy hands

you see
ok its not fucking shakespeare
but its not shakespeares sister either
most of the eighties
i say most
cos there obviously were good things too
but most was bloody rubbish
thats why people laugh when they hear it now
oh ho ho how funny ….
to think we used to like that stuff….?!
well i didnt
i was trapped in a decade of imbecility and i couldnae get out
and you wonder why i was a little weird
but of course
you dont wonder that
you know i’m weird
you accept me as being weird
cos weird is good, right
or you got the 21st century at your fingertips
you cant have the weird without the weird
you cant have it
not both ways
i tried
but you cant

2000 motels fiendss
i check in
i check out
ploogy says turn the tv off steve i wanna sleep
the phone rings
theres a knock at the door
ploogy says can i borrow your B.O. stopper
ploogy says can i put on some more reggae
ploogy says oh thatll be some friends of mine
ploogy says oh i ate your licorice…sorry
ploogy says lets smoke some of your pot killer
i wake up
am i in memphis tennessee
and the sun is blinding
or am i in helsinki in the dead of winter
i go back to gothenburg where i met karin jansson
our bus has broken down
all our clothes have been stolen
i walk around in a polo neck foppish shirt for a week
that some guy gave me
we bump into karins all girl band
when i look in karins eye
we know we will have kids together
but dont ask me how….
we dont even touch
we just say goodbye…
but elli and minna were getting ready that night
selecting their parents or something
it was quite palpable
the church fly here and there
in london we stay in this house with a spiral staircase
with a rooftop garden
londons big agents woo us with hash cocaine n red wine
ploog n i bum around london
making friends with some psychedelic gang
that run a clothes shop in kensington market
most people in the scene considered us top shelf
and we WERE the best psychedelic band IN THE WORLD
and all the rest were so unoriginal
you see we werent just the outer accoutrements of psychedelia
we had the shirts n the hair n the guitars
we knew our way around beatles floyd byrds who
but we had the darkness of the seventies too
i was seriously trying to reconcile strawberry fields
and moonage daydream
of course this is a lofty n impossible task
so i contented myself with the church
who were already a pretty good band
more due to sheer luck
than anything else
pete was the experienced pro
he already had his huge sound even back then
he made it look so easy
talk about slow hand
and about 6 foot 3 n looking like m/angelos david
marty was THE most rockstarry bloke you ever saw
dressed up in his clobber he looked like superman or prince valiant
his clothes hung off him SO right
much better than mine even when i was skinny skinny
he was always at the centre of fun
effortlessly it seemed
and everyone seemed to like or envy him a bit
ploogy showered him in almost gay affection
stroking him and touching him
till marty said
RICHARD! FUCK OFF!
as i said
richard was a situationist
even tho he wouldnt have known that term
but it meant that
life was his canvas
and he created “situations”
to see what would happen
ie although he was not gay
he would hold mens hands he’d just met
ie bob clearmountain or peter walsh
to see how theyd react
weve just met peter walsh in sydney
hes flown out to produce hayday
we go out to get some food
from lauries vegetarian diner
n next thing ploogs holding walshies hand
and looking at him with a dumb expression
walshie just keeps on walking along
not freaking out
everyone laughs
and the ice is broken
ploogy liked to break taboos
and often would steal someones camera
take a few shots of himself
so when yer standing in the chemists shop
getting em developed
up comes a shot of richards whatnot wearing a pair of sunglasses
this may sound amusing to you all
but his maniac pranking used to send me bananas
one night in a cabin on a ferry
it was pitch black
ploog had already gotten sea sick
on baked beans guinness and hash
and had cast up his accounts all over a bloke on a lower deck
not content with this
he was now crawling around in the utter blackness of our cabin
shared by all 4 of us
and grabbing people in the dark as they fell asleep
i heard marty scream
RICHARD!
i warned him
if you fucking come near me richard…i’ll …i’ll ..i’ll..
but
he did
grabbed my leg as i was dropping off
i chased him round the blackness
tripping over things n banging my head
you wait you little bastard …i’d hiss
but the next day came n all was always forgiven
in amsterdam for the first time
we went nuts
eating space cake n buying 400 different varieties of weed
at gigs people gave us weed n hash
we were awash in dopes dopiness
we did great at a gig in spain n the owner
gave us a blocka hash the size of a fucking toblerone
ploogy n i smoked it ate it and entered another universe
groggily and giggly we swanned round europe on our bus
we learnt to order orange juice in spain
all i ate in spain was a tomato roll n orange juice
day after day after day
it was all i could eat there
madrid was wild
cocaine n hash were so easy to get
we were filling big clubs
and doing loadsa interviews
the others started to hate me more n more
and i in return obliged em
by being more hate-able
i was pretty isolated on the road
spending a lotta time in my own company
or standing outside a record shop while
ploog n marty browsed for hours
i read lots of books
and i listened to lots of music
i walked around strange cities and imagined
how it would be to live there
at night i wielded my fretless black bass
and sung spoke my droll lyrics
the kohl was permanently smudged round my eyes
my hair was dark and long
my face was pale n gaunt
i wore impeccable psychedelic clobber
if you didnt understand this
then you were not of my universe
and not worth even considering
i had an exclusive trip
and not many cared to dig it
(whatever the fuck it actually was!)
i wasnt interested in meeting gushing male fans
bending my ear about some flexi-disc they had …
everyone wanted to argue with me
so i argued with everybody
it was a high n lonely destiny
and when i should have been happiest
i was often the most miserable
but thats me isnt it
all over and in spades
i could never actually squeeze the satisfaction out of it
and i smoked so much dope trying to escape myself
but i was always there
on the horizon
or in the shadows
couldnt get away from kilbey
kilbey who made it all possible
and kilbey
ruining things, as usual

talking to russell on the phone yesterday
and i thought about the olde days
the mansfield street days
the days of op shop shirts
the days of trying to brew up up opium
out of 10 lettuces
the days of the paddington markets
the days of catching the bus into town
the days of amplifiers in the laundry
the days of four track recorders and freaky conclusions
the days of going on endless tours round australia
once we started in cairns n hit every town with a venue
until we got to melbourne
sometimes we were bloody awful, i’m sure
me n ploogy roomed together in those days
always getting up to some new pot fueled mischief
hugging trees (yes we really did)
haunting record shops looking for the perfect obscurity
records we loved:
nick kents “my flamingo”
richard stranges “rise of richard strange”
chris bells “i am the cosmos”
the monkees “the porpoise song”
mortal coils “song to the siren”
freurs “doot doot”
deux filles
magazines “correct use of soap”
nirvana “rainbow chaser”
dave miller set “mr guy fawkes”
russell morris “the real thing”

one balmy night
we checked into a lovely apartment in surfers paradise
we had run out of dope
and soon the band
n some of the crew were all sitting round our big table
it was 1981 i guess
outside the sea lapped the tropical shore
palm trees and convertible cars sped past
everyone in the band still friends
suddenly steve copeland arrived with a bag of weed
we smoked up
and i felt that lovely warm rush fill up my body
and all the ideas start to percolate in my head
ploogy put on pet sounds by the beach boys
which i’d never really listened to before
it was absolutely perfect
everyone quietened down to listen
to the summery softly romantic songs drench the night
a moment of rare tranquility stole over me
i thought i was hearing the most wonderful music ever made
the final track “lets go away for a while”
was the most heartbreakingly beautiful thing i’d ever heard
an instrumental complete with timpani
it seemed the veritable soundtrack of my life
things werent always so idyllic
ploog was always engaged in situationist pranks
marty was relatively quiet but often sulky
peter was the old pro
having done more touring than us others
he didnt give much away
i….i was the unpopular one
but
the necessary one
occasionally i’d say REALLY stupid things
but mostly limited myself to just stupid things
i once laughed at martys knobbly knees in qld
and he didnt talk to me until vic
(ie 30 towns later)
the band used to make me drive around in towns
where i’d get lost
(ie anywhere outside rozelle)
and especially melbourne
which baffled me
the way it had baffled my dad
(ie totally fucking bewildered)
once they said to me
“why dont you learn your way around?”
and i came back with
“i write the fucking songs thats my job
not finding my way around…any of you could do that!”
no one spoke to me for days….
we gradually built up friends in each place
and a lot of richards friends irritated the fuck outta me
they were always these lefty feministy types
trying to find fault with my bourgeois ways
they laughed at my make up n airs n graces
but they were always backstage sucking on our booze
as we walked offstage….
they all lived in freezing cold houses in winter
and grew their own stringy dope
they always smelt a bit stale i thought
ploogy would get a brand new girlfriend
and hed be magic
as he showed off to her on the first few nights
he was an incredible drummer if he could be arsed
but sometimes he was just mucking about
marty n peter always played too loud n no one could tell em
hence my tinnitus that i suffer from now
there was very little team playing in those days
it was more like every man for himself
we’d hit melbourne or brisbane or perth for a week
set up shop in a motel
and our days would be spent swimming in the pool
or cruising the op shops for paisley shirts
(i never spent more than 10 bucks on a shirt)
or cruising the record n book shops for finds
or receiving the locals round the pool
at night we’d play at the pubs n bars
there was always 5 or six hundred people at least
and for a long time
we sold out wherever we played
sometimes i had a good night
but most times i had to post experience it
as i stood on stage
counting the songs until i could get back
to the sanctuary of me n richards hotel womb
with our beat up portable cassette player
(the term ghetto blaster not thought up then)
and my sack of cassettes
it was a strange and somewhat lonely life
but we all loved the freedom
the long drives tearing down the highway in a ford ltd
the friends and the pot and the attention
every now n then something super groovy would happen
and i’d think jesus
3 years ago i was a public servant in canberra
now here i am being screamed at
n taking loads of drugs
i was skinny as a rake
from all that sweating every night
and people described me as “angular”
i put black makeup round my eyes
for theatrical effect n to imitate my heroes bolan n bowie
oh god we were the best looking band australia ever had
but i was so arrogant
i was so convinced i was right…about everything
there was only one person i was nice to
and that would be my current girlfriend
anyone else got my cynicism n my self aggrandizing
i was embarrassed to meet anybody
my handshake was limp
and my stare was rude
i wasnt interested in talking to anybody
why would i when i already knew everything
but i could write songs
my aspie -like obsession had paid off
i was writing songs faster than you could write your name
everything was a new song to me
sometimes i wrote 2 or 3 a day
i laughed at the others difficulty with it
coz i’d figured it all out so long ago
my brain was an ever flowing fountain of words
and although not a PROPER musician
i knew enuff to always knock something interesting together
i guess i had enuff of my dad in me to do that
i was a melder
i took from here n there n joined it up
and nobody really knew how i did it
ha ha ha
oh those early days
those olde days
ah
to have an hour back there…..
gee
thatd be fun….

i accelerate into the future
i paint my seizure
my mouth down n blue
my eyes roll back in my head
i enter a field of excruciating pain
all around the screaming cacophony of hell
the light is blinding me
it goes in my eyes and bores into my brain
the noise opens me up
fire surrounds me
the smell of brimstone
a hideous sulphuric wasteland
i am trapped
trapped in a moment
no way out
i try to get out of that moment
but it has congealed around me
i am fastened in
i bounce against its frames and walls
everything intensifies
the flames burn cold
colder than death
colder than nothing
i say
steven you gotta get outta here
i say
somebody please
i gotta get outta here
i scream but in that place everything is screaming
i struggle but i am isolated
i smash into the edges but they hold me fast
a million years go by
each second takes a century
each thought is a nightmare of gothic proportion
i see myself reflected in the glare of unconsciousness
i convulse inside and outside and here and beyond
a filthy malignant spirit envelopes me
bawling in my ear
YOU ARE MINE!!
i ricochet around in my moment
the moment which holds me too fast for you
the moment is tearing me apart
there is only now
and now is terrible
everything that was numb is hurting
everything that was hurting has erupted in white hot searing agony
my eyes blink open n closed i can still see
i fight so hard
to gather myself
whats left of myself
my will my wherewithal
to resist
to resist
my resistance becomes more agony
what am i resisting after all….a moment…?
somewhere out there
unbeknownst to me
my wife is calling an ambulance
but i am oblivious to any other time or place
horrible things are fighting over me
they drag me into their place howling with glee
as i bang around in my moment
my heart is beating so slowly now
faintly like a distant drum
my mansuit is sweating great drops of precious electrolytes
my electrical system has gone haywire
my brain is trying to telegraph a rhythm to my heart
but all the lines are down
my heart left on its own for the first time
doesnt know what to do
it flutters it quivers
it speeds up n slows down to almost nothing
inside the moment
my lungs suck in flame
my blood has thickened to a crimson sludge
my empty guts writhe tortuously
a pounding behind my blind eyes
a roaring behind my deaf ears
a burning under my dumb skin
i put everything into trying to get out
i am falling apart
i am just a survival instinct
i am just pain
i am just ache
i am just throb throb throb
i am drowning in my own sweat
i am evaporating within my own fire
suddenly
without any warning
i emerge into a quiet dark night
natalie is on the phone giving an address
natalies father is holding me gently down in a chair
i am out
but
it starts again
i start to lose myself
forget myself
hell yawns wide
my seat tilts
and i slide back down into the fires
the creatures all begin to shriek
i claw my way back out
but they have hold of my legs
everything going BANG BANG BANG
the moment looms
the moment re envelopes me
i scream inside the moment soundlessly
and again i re emerge
natalie is telling the ambulance PLEASE COME QUICKLY
i look around
i dont need an ambulance…
not me….
not yet….
please….
i dont want to go anywhere
and then again
hell yawns for third time
back in i go
same old stuff
same old racket
same old nothingness
same old fear
same old devils
just when i cant bear another thing
i emerge finally again
the ambulance has arrived
its a cool night in bondi
a quiet night
its about a quarter to eleven
jesus christ!
could anything be worse
than that terrible place?
oh vishnu
i never wanna return there……

things are weird in my world
upheaval and heat
tiredness without much sleep
in my ultra vivid dreams
i am a king
i am a flea
i am a loan
my new records come out one by one
i hurl brilliance against an uncaring world
too much too late
each line of each songs tells a hundred possible stories
choose any path
they all lead back here
eventually
the church play a bloody corker in sydney
i have turned into somebody else
some body better
some body worse
some body much stronger
i have real authority (but authority to do what?)
my voice is hoarser more lived in
my music is simple and raw
i sweat and i stagger
i summon up music from deep within a place only i can get to
the eighties kilbey : sleek suave in cynical
the nineties kilbey : bloated blasted and boring
the 2000s kilbey :…..masculine mansuited mofo monster
what next?
am i a musician or a (washed up) rockstar ? some commenter muses
are they truly mutually exclusive
on stage i tend to make a racket
but if you listen to my records i am a musician too
but always more of a writer
peter koppes is an intellectual musician
marty is an intuitive musician
tim powles is a consummate musician
i am a bass player a singer n a writer
i try my best
now im trying even harder to transcend
thats why everybody loved our latest shows
i own my songs now in that i inhabit them
no longer a fey fop or dried up junky
i am strength i am pitta i am fire i am ambition
i sweat like a pig with silk ears
i sing like a lark on cocaine
i move like a panther who hasnt eaten for a while
our new songs are among the best possible in rock
vibrant melodic brimming with love n possibilities
buy untitled #23 and marvel at its energy
listen to its ever receding subleties
wonder at the new juice we’re squeezing out of (a) rock
its gonna be a while before you get sick of this one
you gonna listen to it till the day you die
or die listening to it in flaming amazement at night
you want rich n lush?
you want ruff n rockin’?
you want emotion and intelligence?
you want heart n soul n brain?
you wanna hear some good playing?
ok
its the record for you
me and the church
back from the dead
dont say i didnt warn ya!

some strange events afoot
i close in on my psychic attacker…and….
oh no…surely it wasnt you……not you
oh no!
of course
why didnt i see it all along
i did
but never wanted to believe it
you!
you!
you whom i trusted
you utter bastard!
and now……
well youre gone
you are gone from my life now
as troublesome as that will be in many ways
you are unmasked
you didnt care if i died
you didnt care if i suffered
youve just been hating me for so long
for so so so so so so so long
but i tried to ignore it
i tried to get over your insults n sleights
no insults back
(you jealous worm!)
but now
adieu
we dont wanna see ya round this way again
i am gonna forgive ya
i am gonna forget ya
but i dont wanna clap my eyes on ya again!
whatever i did or did not do
i cannot believe you were the viper at my bosom
and thats it
we’re finished!

my life seems like a film
i anticipate events
i write songs that i may not understand for years
things come down the line got my name on them
believe me my fiendss
life is very very very cosmic
everything that is was meant to be
everything that isnt wasnt
or exists as mere potential
only from the perspective of eternity will we understand
we have all lived before
we have all died before
we will all live and die so many more times
we will change our suits
we will change our masks
we must undergo everything so we understand everything
we must be betrayed so we understand betrayal
we must kill and be killed so we understand killing
we must love and be loved so we understand loving
we must hate and be hated so we understand hatred
all the time we are being refined
all the time we learn whether we know it or not
all the time we get closer and closer to the next level
whatever that is
we are such imperfect creatures
we have mastered this planet and fucked it up
i wrote almost 25 years ago in earthed
how the earths mad cannabalistic offspring were devouring her
now look around you
this is a result of our misunderstanding
this is a necessary design error in humans
we were born to go wrong
this is an obstacle race
we are the racers and the obstacles all at once
we are beast
we are eternal spirit
everyone is acting
everyone is confused
everyone is unsure
thus has it ever been
and if this earth can endure much longer
no matter what gadgets n stuff they come up with
the basic human problems will never cease to plague us
there will always be envy avarice greed lust n all the rest
people will always steal and kill and cheat and lie
we are in the unenviable position of knowing we will all die
no other creature on this earth is burdened by this knowledge
yet we must know it and go on as if we dont know it
heroes come and go on our stage
villains too
and the vast hoi polloi who are neither
but just wanna get on with their lives
no one wants war but there it is
no one wants famine and pestilence yet they remain
no one wants cruelty for themselves
yet we all deal it out over n over to others
everyone thinks its ok for them to pee in the pool
but would be horrified to think someone else was doing it
our philosophers come n go
but still no one knows how to live their life
great men are undone by scandals
small men assume power and get us all killed
the kings n queens
the bishops
the presidents n leaders
all baffled
all mistaken
all roads lead to that dead end
what can you do?
i dunno
i’m just playing in my band as the titanic goes down
some nice music for y’all till we go under
(only to re emerge)
sometimes i’m kinda fond of olde steve kilbey
he surprises me with his strengths
but he disappoints me with his weaknesses
he gets it so right
and
he gets it so wrong
oh i dont want to let go of him
because hes learned so much
and can do so many things now
i dont wanna start again
but death will strip us all of everything
and our former talents will be dormant
as predilections and proclivities and predispositions
ie i always knew i’d be a musician
ah
well
what am i getting at?
i dunno for sure
words to describe concepts that exist outside of words
ok
be careful
life is a slender thread
too much this
not enuff that
n
its over
do what you can
just do your best
what more can be expected

ps 3 days off all substances
and LOVING IT!!!

is there anything
anything
worse than sleeplessness?
nothing i have ever encountered
a dear friend of mine is almost unable to sleep
despite leading an exemplary life…
when she tells me of her insomnia
my heart truly aches
and i truly sympathise
because sleep is the most delicious gift
and insomnia is the most terrible curse
once
after getting off a tar heroin jag
the one that saw me in exodus l.a. rehab
and led to my encounter with my sweet lord
who hastened to me
when i screamed in the total agony of sleeplessness
anyway
i got out
and i went to sweden
where i visited elli n minna then 3 or 4
i could not sleep for 3 weeks not a wink
i was hallucinating
hearing voices
and falling into the foulest pit of angry despair
i tried everything other than sleeping pills / or drugs
at night i writhed in the grip of being alone with ….me
after all day long with ourselves
we neeed to escape
we neeed to detach
we neeed to switch off
oh blessed sleep
oh divine sleep
i would not wish sleeplessness on my worst enemy
people
if youre sleeping well
get down on your knees and thank your god
you others
heres some advice
dont pursue sleep
dont try n wrestle sleep outta the air
dont get desperate as night falls scaring sleep away
a warm bath with mineral salts
warm cup of soy or rice or oatmilk with black strap molasses
eat peanut butter and/or bananas
read a gentle n lovely book (say kahil gibran…or something)
exercise well all day but not to become over tired
swimming works a treat to get you all nicely sleepy
fresh air but dont have a stuffy or chilly room
i believe yoga before bed is very relaxing…just the easy poses if you like
throw yer legs up the wall…that helps you sleep
relax your jaw n scalp
let the gentlest thoughts come into yer head
try n visualize something nice
like something you did as a kid
or a time when you were sleeping well in some cozy corner
consciously relax from your toes on up
stopping at each muscle to invidually make sure its relaxed
one FALLS asleep not climbs asleep
its a kinda letting go or giving in
you cant force it
dont take sleeping pills
unless for extraordinary reasons….
valerian can work
herbal teas are good
avoid energy drinks or coffee after about 2 in the afternoon
a decent orgasm can get ya to sleep …even an indecent one i guess
dont watch loud violent or noisy tv shows before bed
pray to god to send you some sleep
i hope you find some sweet sweeet sleeeeeep
please share tips or insomniac experiences on comments
viva la sleep!
sk

i really enjoyed playing at barwon heads
we thought it was one of the best gigs we’d ever done
i was not condescending
i was nervous n i was relieved it went well
i had a ball
anyone who was there could see that
utmw is a problematical song
people DO expect it
not devoted fans
but casual punters who pay their dough n wanna hear it
i usually joke around about it to offset its “importance”
i cant see how my relationship with my own song
should concern anyone else
i was trying to be self deprecating….sorry
i still like the song
and i dont mind playing it
melbourne itself i had too much to drink
i drank too much jaeger it crept up on me
whoops
but i think we did a good show any way
i was a little sloppy
i will bear it in mind from now on
as far as the sound being too loud
too loud drums etc
i will talk to our soundman today
i am unaware on stage what it actually sounds like
im sorry if he got it wrong
i still consider both nights successes
i still put 100 per cent into it
i promise you that
last nite at the festival was great
we got a great reaction from the sold out crowd
we felt like we vindicated ourselves
we played like bloody troopers
i think the whole 3 days were good
and i feel like the church may be able to
extend its lease on life a little further
i am pushing 55
please never forget that
with all the issues it brings
being an old rocker
i dig the church
i dig our music past pres n future
and i dig our audiences
the condescending days are long gone
i am appreciative of what i got
i accept constructive criticism
and im grateful for it
please dont attack each other on my comments
every body has a right to say they didnt like it
i feel however you misconstrued what i said about utmw
thats ok
i do say a lotta stupid things
but you know that
sk

i run about weirdly
my world has devolved into a 3 dimensional slop
small weird creatures struggle and fight to be free of it
i never thought things could get so weird
i never thought things could be so strange
i never thought i guess
i never thought such thoughtless things
the cosmic all shudders to spit it all out
the universe convulses as it expels us
and we lie at last
outside
outside of what? someone asks
why come here for the answers? someone else says
i think i know that voice
says another voice
i’m in another room says a fourth voice
i’m in another story…..
i wonder if there are any taxis out there
i got 9 dollars in my pocket…change from lunch
the clouds part for a moment
soft white sunlight pours down
i hit the road forward
and i keep on walkin’
what else is there to do?

the centre cannot hold
the falcon cannot hear the panther
the rough beasts are slouching about all over the place
among us walk the others
you know who they are
yes
you know who they are
the vanishers
the hard to remember now
the distant thoughts
mr weird, remember him?
i thought i was making all that up
but no
look i’m writing about him again
just on the verge of something big
just riding my mind till it can come up with something
just belting along down the alphabet
mr weird assembles himself in letters and light
out back in his day/night club
open all hours except …
is this where we’re rehearsing today?
some sullen roadie bumps in some gear
some tired geezer stands before a drink machine
insurance jobs blow up in the street
who cares?
my felafel n chips are making me sick
oh this is all so noir…..
i change the channel to some happier thing
little butterflies in an enchanted wood
spring suddenly drains out of the world
autumn arrives looking stern and unapproachable
unlikely considering everything
but who can really consider everything
my guitar gently cries mary and joseph
my bass hums with a life of its own
my drums rat a tat tat
mr weird stops in with a cawfee n a bagel
am i in america now? i ask naively
youre so mixed up says someone
yeah says mr weird
youre so mixed up
hes yer friend says someone new
yeah thats right says mr weird
what are you playing today?
well we’re playing um……something…
yeah yeah great says weird
youre a smart fucking bastard arent you?
i check him out
he seems to change a bit you know
tall and long or towering over me
wow his eyes are something else
he picks up a drumstick n it breaks
aw he says
a phone rings
he walks away
lucky for you he says over his shoulder
i change the channel
dont do that says weird his face full flat on the screen
i try again
the butterflies the wood
weird appeared walking thru the wood
when you gonna learn steven? he says
this whole thing is stacked against you
you cant win
you dont wanna win
theres no winners
i’m just here to set ya straight thats all
weird sighed
try being me he said
i wouldnt mind that i say absentmindedly
ok he says
its morning then
i looked myself in the mirror
i am weird
i am him
i am he
he is me
ok
i say
now i’m gonna try being weird