The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

a pack of yobbos has moved in underneath us about 3 weeks ago
theyve had 4 partys since xmas
last night
horror of horrors
the yobbos
(read young ignorant beer swilling people
possessed of little charm or grace)
last nite, monday nite
the yobbos have a little gathering of 20 other fellow yobbos
all talkin’ like kath n kim
and to my absolute distress n dismay
they now have a barbeque
under our windows
we had the lighter fluid
we had the thick black smoke of their disgusting altar
then
we have the rancid filthy stench
as they burnt their dead dismal offering
to some brainless beer-god
we have to close all the windows immediately
but the vile evil odours have permeated our home
like having a crematorium going outside..
plus brilliant comments like
“this is really good meat!!”
as they tuck into their tragedy
they guffaw loudly and slurp down such copious quantities of booze
that the glass recycler is nearly valve-bouncing
then the doof doof doof starts
it pumps solidly thru the night
up thru the flawboards
its inane uselessness finds me
music for people who hate music
a simplistic bang bang bang
for yer basic moron who loses interest
if there is a more than a one second gap
and fiendss
here comes the frightening bit
2 of these yobbos are girls
2 yobettes and their little brother
formerly of yob point
i knew i was gonna hate em
when i saw they had a fuckin parrot in a cage as they moved in
yeah yobette
i bet yer lil birdy loves doin’ solitary for life
yet committed no crime
instead of flying the burnin’ blue skies
hes prisoner in yer nasty little cage
people with no clue
people with no taste
i was gonna say
theyre not even “straights”
we had “straights” before and they were considerate
they were doofing once
i knocked at the door
and said the missus is trying to have a rest
and the doof ceased pronto
their only other problem was an
enormous surround sound war game machine
the floor would shake n shudder
and civilians would scream
i kid you not
we had only some thin floor boards
separating us from ww111
tanks blasting
rockets falling
the works
but theyd always stop at 11
or if ya banged on the ceiling
but lassanite when i finally
at 11 30
jumped on the epicentre of the doof doof
they stopped for 3 seconds
then it returned in all its moronic vengeance;
the unfailing thump of drunken yobbos.
eventually as their gathering winds down
they accumulate (like rubbish)
underneath our bedroom window
having their loud empty ha ha ha
blah blah blahs right outside
(you couldnt dignify it with the word “conversation”)
now i dont want to start that fucking idiot up again
in the comments section..
but the yobettes male friends
dont mind draining their beer-swollen bladders
just round the side of the house neither
now…..
well of course
next time it happens
(im always saying next time)
but next time
im gonna vacuum the house at 6 am
slowly and knocking big heavy things over
again n again
the doodles will be allowed
nay encouraged
to run n jump n doing cartwheels cross the floor
music which i imagine is anathema to the yobs will be played
(ie something nice)
at random intervals in random parts of the house
with my new bass heavy hi fi box
a’shuddering and a’vibrating right thru the gentle morning…
hangover?
im gonna induce the mother of all hangovers
when space ritual resounds deafeningly
in their cauliflower ears n confused alcohol soaked “brains”
NICE N EARLY
WAKEY WAKEY HANDS OFF SNAKEY!!!
and then….
and then…
and then im as bad as them
another irate naybour killing people loudly
with their badde fucking manners
and then things can get even worse
i mean it isnt actually open war yet…..
and i dont want that
believe me
i been living here for ages
its usually isnt TOO bad
kellys gone n everything…..
she did a midnite runner a few weeks back
anyway
she was a lot more exciting than the dullards downstairs
they are as close to generic yobbo as you can get
just the most uncomprehending kinda idiots
who depress ya just seeing hearing n now smelling em
nk is furious
im trying to keep her under control
the twillies at midnite lassanite
were spoiling for a fight
im going down there to fucking tell them
TO SHUTTUP OH!!!
yells skinny minni
marching down the stairs
come back here i hiss
not tonite…
ya see
i know enuff to know
that 20 20 something yobbos
with bellies full of grog n flesh
and a good doof doof going
well
they aint gonna listen to an irate vegeterian bi-lingual twin
from sodermalm stockholm telling em
to close down their cretinous festivities
and go to sleep
now what do i do?
i cant afford to move
i dont wanna move neither….
but what the….?
im in shock
please no” just chill”
thats what they’d probably say..
i dont wanna be this part im being forced into
the angry olde guy upstairs
whos trying to stop their orgies of ignorance
i dont wanna start a cold war
or any other war with em neither
i just wish theyd go away…
please somebody..
MAKE EM GO AWAY

ps mishy
do you wanna come thursday?
sk

sorry fiendss
i cant bring myself to the seas
i mean, the Cs
i know i ppromised ya
and all
but
cmon…
its like real fucking work doing that stuff
like answering questions
like travelling in aeroplanes
like disciplining kids
like having to explain yerself all the time
like rehearsing
like having a drug addiction
like being a tilers labourer on a building site
or pumping gas at the Total servo in wattle street
or mowing the lawn
or wiping up the dishes
or cleaning up my toys
or trying to learn to walk
or being born…….
i know y’all are paying me to write
but as an act of rebellion
i say no Cs today
you see you like me a little bit when im unpredictable
tho you mayent dig it at the time
and well
i just couldnt be BOTHERED doing the Cs
i’d rather just goof off with something like this
or some free form thing..
a poem?

hanky pankow
was a dour lad
he eschewed the good
and embraced the bad

there…
see?
a poem for ya

lassanite
nk n i watched movie c@#sucker blues
about ye olde rolling stones
shot in 72
its a bootleg
the film never released
such an art movie
the film all grainy
it leaves afterimages of colour in b + w
the white corridors to n fro dressing rooms bleed into white glare
the stones are grainy cartoons
loaded on top shelf drugs
they ponce about
centres of their own universes
jagger gives an interview to 2 fawning journos
hes dressed in a little blouse tied at the waist
n either undies or swimmers
he sits up with his legs tightly crossed
and in a millisecond his face changes from
a young rockstar
to
a retarded girl
to
a petulant ape
to
a handsome rebellious brute
to
a petty old queen
to
a stoned moron
to
a frosty icon
to
an angry young man
to
a coked up gossip bag
to
a latter day percy shelly
back to
mick jagger
i mean
talk about a fucking chameleon…!
keith is mostly sleepy
everyone puffing on a never ending chain of cigarettes
keith chucks a telly out a window
it hits the floor 18 storeys below explosionless
keith giggles
jagger n bianca snort coke n mince abaht
mick taylor walks in on a rather ugly naked groopie
+ some roadies or something
she lies before him opening n reopening her legs
“ive never seen a room graced with such beauty” he snootily declares
as he gazes in disgusted abstraction upon her hirsute agenda
if yer looking for sex drugs n rocknroll
this is the movie for you
we see people cooking up
shooting up
gang bangs on aeroplanes
head jobs a plenty
naked scrubbers play with themselves
while keithy n mick bang tambos
8 miles high
a. groopie nurses a passed out keef
a black waitress at a roadie snort session declares
oh i aint never had it before…
i knew it’d be good..
but you know…
not that good…!
and the film slowly builds up an atmosphere of oppression
jagger argues with a road manager whos had a drug dealer
beaten up n kicked off the tour
jaggers slightly miffed
but his self obsession n narcissism never allow him to ever focus…
aware of the camera
he limply plays some counter culture cliche
“well man…er you can dig my trip..its not the bread man..”
as his voice drawls on n on in that affected lazy way
actually he comes across as a spoilt prisoner
within a sordid hedonistic bubble of froth n ego
the performances are all over the place
he barks his way thru brown sugar
marching up n down the stage like a brat in the school musical
then anothertime
he nails midnight rambler
every inch the quintessential rock deity
with his perfect bouncing hair
his perfect jawline
his perfect huge red lips
n
his perfect gymnasts body
jaggers sexuality is blurred here
where can i get my cock sucked
where can i get my ass fucked
he wails in the “title track”
and then indeed
in a crowded dressing room
jagger shrugs outta his get up
and we see his ass
and his cock n balls too
gee mick
you musta known the cameras were there
meanwhile keef snores on a plane
the roadies snort more coke
and root more groopies
and the stones stumble down more neverending white corridors
as if on their way to executions
the photographers
the screaming babbling crowds
the fans are driven crazy by the stones n their ginormous success
all the while on tvs the 1972 presidential thingos going on
1972 seems brutal wild chaotic
people seemed like theyd do anything
as they floundered in the void of the sixties collapse
the flower power dream had ended in the nightmare
of vietnam
yes children
the man was still pulling the strings
the “straights” were back on course
jagger n cronies
(we see hardly anything of bill w n charlie)
keiths companion du jour most times is bobby keys
the texan saxophonist
who hit the olde horse big time
theres one scene where
keefs sittin in a hotel room
hes in his dressing gown
and gone is his coleridge langour
and his sleepy bohemian i-dont-give-a-fuck
now he looks alert miserable
some lackey is on the phone
giving instructions n addresses in a serious tone
as if hes organising an invasion
“do you understand its 1205 blah blah st
and when you get there…blah blah”
i guess keefs run out of joy dust
and hes kinda anxious to get some more onboard
anyway
this movie aint covering up much…
the 2 stars dont come over too well…
you should see jagger twittering away in a car
smoking a spliff and ramblin on
“blah blah blah me me me”
he squeaks on as bianca yawns n keef nods in the backseat
if you love rocknroll
see this film
it aint pretty
its gotta be 10 million times better than rattlenhum
or any other rock doco i ever seen
its gonna disturb ya
its gonna haunt ya
where are all those people now
the rabid psycho fans
“they took my baby off me cos i took acid”
mumbles a sad ghost in the black n white wilderness
of a mid west stadium carpark
all the kids
that roaring screaming mass
all of em now late fifties or sixties
this is an art movie
make no mistake
the film flashes n pops n drops out
it flares out to brilliant bone white
it condenses into impenetrable black
it seemed to have all happened a million years ago
in some desolate clunky universe
(check out the telephones)
you see glances of truman compote
tina turner
andy war-hole
blah blah
etc etc
where glamour meets the visceral
where fascination n disgust collide
where hero n villain blur
how do you feel now?
ladies n gentlemen
the greatest rocknroll band in the world
plus very naughty bits

sk

look
i aint holding myself up as any great collector
everything here is incomplete, random and partial
i got a lotta holes in my collexion
(but not my complexion)
and quickly spruiking (shamelessly!) my play
friday 12 satday 13 jan, 8pm 15$ 10 $ concession
bricklane workshop 151 curlewis st
0439431114
oh and bon bon
i can put you on the door but i need to know
under mr or ms….
to other syddley fiendss
i imagine if you turn up at 730 on the night youll get a seat
we are having a nite for guests n family too on thursday at 8
turn up for that too if yer cheeky enuff :
tell em your my cousin…
anyway the play (now with musicians) is going well
i AM peter
an upperclass twit, kinda secretly gay, loadsa money
baffled to meet a real live hoodlum one day
in 1960
the guy who plays jerry the hoodlum is brilliant
he is all the restless smartass aggression of a new york psycho-bully
we got it going like a tennis match now
its very liberating
like know a piece of music
rattling it off efffortlessly
you can start to Xplore the tiny spaces
where you yourself lie therein…
enuff (shameless) spruiking
isnt that a kaydee lang album?
or was that r d laing who wrote knots?
ok
without a further do
bauhaus
who appear on my ipod only because of dark side of eighties comp
do ya wanna hear an extra silly version of ziggy stardust?
here it is…..
bbc orch does peer gynt
cant really argue with this one
in the hall of the mountain kings
the whole thing is suffused with mystery n brilliance…..
be bop deluxe
i only actually have axe victim on my pod
the other 3 or 4 waiting to go in…
i could write a whole blogge on bill nelson n be bop
this was a very influential album for most of us in churuch…
the beach boys
smiley smile/ wild honey
brain wilson…whatta master….for a while..he burned bright
i do hate the uncomfortable sight of some great awkward olde git
being carted around singing teenage lyrics with a fixed unibomber stare
while his fingers play piano parts in the thin air…
am i the only person who finds this at complete odds
with the original intention of the music eg sunny youthful etc
anyway good vibrations is one of THE true 7 wonders of rock
(a future blogge topic…remind me)
and the wind chimes here is by far superior to the other one
i hear this track n im back in surfers paradise with ploogy in 81
hot sultry nights in our hotel ploogy played smiley n petsounds over n over
i should have more
should have surfs up…..
the beatles
abbey road *****
help! ****
let it be naked ****
love *****
sgt peppers *****
what can ya say about the beatles
keep yer eyes peeled for my forthcoming book
essays on rock
the beatles are the prime movers
the originators
i havent gottem all on ipod…so what?
soon
the beatles music is the warp n woof of our western society
their contribution is enormous n evident
essential…….
bee gees
1st
odessa
i love a lotta beegees songs
jesus they had a run of hits everyone a bona fide clasiic
spicks n specks
new york mining disaster
massachussetts
words
how can you mend a lonely heart
tomorrow, tomorrow
i started a joke
i gotta getta message to you
i fuckin loathe the disco period however
no i dont find it kitsch or nuthing
odessa has got some of the worst pretentious lyrics
historical tripe about the baltic sea…more like bollocks,see..?
sorry about maurice tho…n andy….too soon too soon….
big audio dynamite e=mc2
i like mick jones…
this is pretty good..i guess..
big country
in a big country
(imagine if we’d been
the church “in the church”)
this is from nks collexion i guess
sad to think of this geezers lonely demise..
i think this schtick was good for one song
but i was pretty tired of the highland fling schlock
very very quickly…
big spaceship
this is the druid from all indias other group
kraftwerky electro-pop
its pretty damn nifty actually
probably better than anything the teutonic tin cans have done for years
good on ya martin…i really like this record…
big star
in 1974 i finally got my hands on #1 and radio city
then a few years later sister/lovers (in all its permutations)
big star loom hugely in the churuch world
whole careers have been based around one big star song
frinstance “kangaroo”
that song invented the whole falling apart thing
listen to it
buckley did it…its on a couple of his..
great god
i could write a thesis on the importance of this one song
thats why buckley had to do it…
its a seminal rock song
its an archetype
as good as its gonna get
if you want a sprawling decaying masterpiece….
bil withers
aint no sunshine
ooh mama…
sexee ladies man music…
this from nks collex
but i do dig this in a detached/partially nostalgic way..
mmm…sweet ladee…ahhh!
biosphere
cirque
insomnia
man with a movie camera
microgravity
shen zhou
substrata
biosphere is norwegian guy
who makes clever instrumental music
its all very different
from ambient pieces
shards of ice cracking up
noisy
found sound
orchestral loops
anything
usually bril
recommend substrata
for frozen jollies
arctic rock?
oh this is lovely stuff…
hard to tear my self away…
black sabbath
(from darkside of 80s???!!!)
paranoid
i like this n the cover of the 1st album
other than that i find ozzy/sabbath
does nothing for my refined tastes…
blank n jones
relax 1 n 2
i never wooda hearda these germanic groovers
if i hadnt done a song for em called revealed
this stuff is cruisy dancey trancey chill out
whatever the fuck they call it this week
its like an endless summer night in majorca
the hot air
the restaurants overflowin at midnight
that sweet e washed down with the champers
and then
oh baby
oh ya hit that sweet groove
way down in ya soul
as the doof doof doof
and the flanging strings suck upwards
into the fragmenting spanish night
oh cmon baby….yeah this aint music for thinkin’ to…
blind faith
oh classic album
stevie winwood
clappers
ginger b
rick grech
cant find my way home, presence of the lord
both bona fide classics
instant nostalgia
back in my bedroom
cold canberran night
i have single strip heater that burns one little bit of ya
and leaves the rest of the room cold
like a pie my father made once which was
burnt black on outside n ice on the inside
(with vegemite gravy!?)
i ve just received blind faith from the record club
which was a post order scam if you got people joined into
the record club you got 2 free albums
and when they joined they got 5 free albums
anyhow blind faith arrived in the mail which is very exciting actually
when yer sixteen anyway
in the glow of my heater n on my portable record player
i listen in wonder to this record
i cannot now disentangle myself from these impressions
i still enjoy it anyway….
the blue nile
i have walk across rooftops
i love this one
like music from a broadway show that never was
weary intelligent romantic songs
do i love you?
yes i love you
but it its easy come
easy go…
all this talking is only bravado
bo hansson
lord of the rings
magical musical interpretation of ring saga
this is superb stuff
innovative sad music channeled straight from middle earth
a billion times better than celtic schlock in movie
note to peter jackson:middle earth aint the emerald isle..
if ya love lotr
or ya love strange beautiful instrumental music
get this get this get this
i saw hansson on streets of stockholm
now twilight mysterioso…
boards of canada
the campfire headphase
awful title boys but super good album
i like b o can
clever instrumental stuff a bit pro toolsy..
8 out of ten easy..
bob dylan
blonde on blonde*****
infidels****
pat g and billy the k****
slow train****
street legal*** and a half
time outta mind***
what can i a mere mortal add to the
over notated mr dill-on
the buddha to lennons christ?
he wrote the book…
absolutely essential listening
where are desire n blood on the tracks both *****
????
must sort that out…
bonnie tyler
total eclipse of the heart
from nks collex
im listening to it now
its…..horrendous!
bow wow wow
from darkside of the eighties
go wild in the country
rubbish!
bread
it may surprise you to know i love bread
dont know why
i just love his songs
sorry
they make me feel good
they bypass the cynic in me
and i just enjoy em
a guilty pleasure
i now come out of the bread closet
i am a bread lover
ha ha ha
brian eno
another day on earth ****
another green world*****
before n after science *****
bell studies***
discreet music****
here come the warm jets****
i dormienti***
kite stories***
music for films*****
on land*****
eno is an original
a giant in thought n deed
again worthy of a whole blog
its hard to say now enos impact at the time
one of my heroes
all his stuff is different
give it a chance
its some of the best..
brian eno n david byrne
my life in the bush of ghosts****
eno n jpeter schwalm
drawn from life ****
eno n harold budd
plateaux of mirror*****
the pearl*****
brian jonestown massacre
and this is our music
bjm demos 91
i like the bjm
they frustrate me sometimes but i like em
better them than most of the other tripe out there
and this..is a great record
and i get a mention(!?) on the cover…
bruce springsteen
18 tracks**
asbury park****
the wild etc****
born to run******
darkness on the edge*****
tunnel of love****
another massive subject
youve seen my rave on about my fave boss tracks before
he sits only at dylans feet as a giant rocknroll figure

thats it
c ya tomorrow!

killa

oh my dearest fiendss
lassanite we have runthru of play
from woe to go
sk remembers all his lines!!!
remember 12 n 13th bricklane workshop
curlewis st bondi 8 pm
its gonna be very intimate
you wanna see me slapped around and abused?
(no not chrissy hindes…its the play)
you gotta bee there fiendss n fiendettes
dont not come!
i better see
d + t
i better see
le (or is it la) bon
i better see the dutchman from nz
i better see mishy
i better see all the rest of ya syddley fiendss
or else…..
ok?
now without further ado
here we go
AN OCCAISIONAL FEATURE
(as suggested by syrinx for you finx)
drumroll
THE KILLERS EYE-PODD
(da dah)

ok
first up
16 horsepower
sorta alt country stuff
banjo-ey n serious
i quita lika actually…
aha
this belongs to nk
absorbed by my pod accidently
i met morten harkett once in 1984
very handsome short sighted
a more red sunburnt nose than mine
could not understand my swedish one bit
liked i hoped a norwegian would….
aartika
this was given to me on tour but i have no idea by whom
the first track aura lee is one of the best shoo gazer things ever
i often put it on comps for frendz…
a real classic actually specially when the girls sweet voice comes in
“sing to me , aura lee”
the rest of record pretty good too
try n find this…..
air
ive got everything by air
what can you say
great aesthetic, great results
melodic, cinematic, cool
recommend anything
very good for les interludes romantiques
if you savoir fair…
alan watts
my very good friend leesey nicks gave me this in london
its called om:the sound of hinduism
its got some spoken word about/on/from “hinduism”
(i dislike that word)
its pretty good if you into the blue guys krish vish n shiv
theres a bit of sitar drones n chanting
i really dig this actually
check it out you atheists
ye might still yet be enlightened…
alanis morrissette
obviously this belongs to nk
its just that one song. you know
thank you india thank you pakistan…that one…
as to my oh-pinyon on it…
dont get me talkin…..!
albionioni
adagio for orch
oh beautiful stuff nicked from k + g’s collection
note to self
the band should do an electric version of this…
its like a theme to an italian love story…
ali akbar khan
ragas
indian music is so different to western in its intent
it has no chordal movement n no harmonies
it has only unisons
you gotta listen n listen
you gotta let it wash over ya
this is pretty good …
alio die
suspended feathers
this is from ambient chriss-o from frisc-o
this lovely manne has boostd my ambient etc section unbeeleevably
thank you chris
there will be something coming soon
bee a patient please
i received a new package from him yessaday
a veritable lord in the sk empire
anyway alio die is very very good
“found” sound mixing with electonica
great titles
descending past
ruins gardens drones
time in absence
etc
if you like amb you like this…
all about eve
strange i dont know much about aae
this is only in there cos its from darkside of the 80s
a comp
the track is marthas harbour
nice track
i listen to occaisionally
thats it…
all india radio
it says here i only got one record
but thats weird i thought i had 2 or 3
hmmmm..?
maybe theyre stored under another name
i heartily reco- mend anything by all ind rad
hope i can finish my thing with martin this year……
its instrumental not ambient
nice stuff….
america
i like hoarse with no name n sandman
reminds me off my yoof
very sub neil young tho now as i listen to it
i understand you been runnin from the man
that goes by the name of the sandman…
kinda almost somethin i wished id written….
amon duul 11
live in london
phallus dei
tannz der lemmings
vive la trance
wolf city
yeti
i m confused about amon duul
we met em once in germany
at breakfast in a hotel in an obscure town
theyre more a collective than a band
i got this from reedy with his boxes of prog in arizona
i had wolf city as a kid
some of its just an average 70s rock band slugging away
(with weird bits)
the chick singer is definitely an aquired taste
i still aint ackwired a taste for her germanic screechings
wolf city the track itself is a payoff
hard teutonic brutal sci-fi downwards guitars
things scream like winged monkeys
wolf city without pity…
the rest of amon i am yet to seriously explore
something for a rainy day thatll probably never come
we shoulda done wolf city at space rock night…
anoushka shankar
got this off johnny jus’ th’other day
i know nothing about it
its a mix of indian with subtle western stuff
i really like it
and have done yoga to it too…
the albums called rise
antonio vivaldi
some slightly pompous un-sk like stuff
never listened to it before nor will again
unless i have madame bovary n mark e. d. sard over for tea..
this is side of classical i dont dig…
the arcade fire
funeral
despite having jumped in a long time ago
and saying that i didnt like the af
after only half a listen to a sampler
i got this album from the boffa a cuppla weeks back
and its my most played recent record
i love it
i didnt understand at first
i still cant really say what the words are all about
some weird claustrophobic childhood neighbourhood
its quite unlike anything else
great instrumentation…violins, honky tonk pianos,
accordions
busy arrangements
sometimes a woman sings
who sounds just like a female version of the guy singer
this is a fucking great record
it may take a bit of time to sink in
but this universe is worth visiting..
argent
im listening to hold yer head up and its
pretty stodgy stuff
i got all of argents real albums
the one with rusty ballad
he wrote liar which is on the 1st album
it was later done by 3 dog night
he wrote god gave rocknroll
done by kiss
i like 1st album best for wistful zombie-ish tracks
rod argent was in the z s
the second album ring of hands
not quite as good
but worth having i guess
if you like piano n stuff
n soft rock
cast your spell, uranus
is an unfortunate title (or not?)
the other 2
all together now
n in deep
arent too bad but not essential
havent listened to em yet
tho i had em on vinyl…
ashra tempel
first
inventions for electric guitar
join inn
schwingungen
starring rosi
all of ahra tempels stuff is quite different
inventions is highly recommended
guitars intercrossing echoing like arpeggiating keyboards
very kraut rock mainly instrumental
from reedys massive collexion
join in has tracks like freakn roll
jammy stuff
schwingy is more soundtracky
starring rosi more poppy i guess
the first track sounds like the allman bros..
ashra
is the same gang without the tempel…
i have blackouts
sunrain
the making of
sunrain is a beautiful chiming record
very euphoric
i recommend this one or inventions to start with
guess what
thats it for the a’s
and theres too many b’s for today
im gonna flake out on ya..
next
THE Bs
sk

im sorry
where was i?
i had to drive back to syddley
look
theres something you should understand about me..
although i am, on some , levels
a bona-fide renee-sonce man
(hi renee)
and i do spout proze n pertry
i am also a bit…
how can i put it…?
silly
ive always been a bit….silly
i cry wolfe
and i easily get confused n disheartened
and i give up
and lose the plot
well
its like the 2 times i was locked outta mah car
in the middle of nowhere…with kidss
and locksmiths were summoned etc etc
when after finally getting in car
low n bee hold
the keys aint in the car
one more quick pat down reveals keys in side pocket
of ye olde trusty hemp black cord jacket
they were on me all the time
or i call up to nk n girls when im outside the ‘ouse
oi you lot have any of ya seen mah sunnglasses?
an’ they lookin’ at me very strangely…
finally nk says kinda embarrassed
steven…?
i reach up to touch my eyes
but i cant because
theres a layer of green rayban glass
between my finger n eyes
cos i already got em on
has anyone seen my bass? i ask one day whilst wearing it
my rational logical mind is comparable to an immature morons
while my poeticle side is overdeloped like a muscleman
and now i cant put my adjectives by my side
i know some of you are finding this hard to believe
that yer bone idol is rather silly a fair bit o’ the thyme
yessaday minna says
dad do you think when you learn something like your new play
that other things go out the back of your mind at the same time?
i think theres probly some sense in that
maybe ive been deleting from the logic mind
to feed ms muse and her department
do you think people have ever said
never mind the boy/man/olde codger
is a genius
therefore
let him be silly??
no
they havent
anyway
no one is a genius at home
remember that…
(blogge goes all wavy…..)
leonardo……?
what is it dear?
have you fed your dog today?
but dear, i just worked out the aeronautics of a machine
which, although, theoretically improbable, still could…
did you or didnt you feed your dog, leo?
cos i aint feeding ‘im while you sod around,
dissecting corpses
and painting olde miss whatsername…
mona, dear?
i aint no fucking moaner leo !
im just sick of yer merry magda-lanes n bloody parra-shoots
(fade back to reality)
(whatever that is)
(baybee)
so look
after that song n dance with pod
i have ta say it was justa low low batt.
(sound of angry readers cluck clucking)
lower than i ever seen it
lower than
knee high to grasshopper
man that batt was low
no wonder…
i was so confused..
i mean why should i think of the easiest most obvious thing
while i can PANIC n LAMENT?
joycie mc mother
i am on an almost ! free diet at the moment
youve put me right off my !s
anyway the podd came bach to life
but i DO now know a lotta other intresting stuff
from all the luvverlee commentors with all their advices
we drove back to syd
after leaving v. nice tiny tot (with the lot)
and dr jimbo (who would not leave ya in limbo)
and beautiful handbuilt house
how can ya be a top intertional doc AND a master builder?
i cant lay one brick or sew one stitch
tho i could lay a stitch if i was asked
and guys…
im sorry i was silly……
(am i addicted to…..the way moth is to !)
anyway
my oh my
after putting up with my own confused silliness 4 two days
i then had to put up with bi lingual bickering in stereo
on way home
blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
her feet…..
my seat….
turn it up….
turn it down….
celebrity quiz from goss mag….
big daddy : no, i dont know the name of brittnees fuckin’ monkey….
windows up
minna begs from backseat
her glandular fever is coming back we fear…
but
its bloody hot outside n
quite frankly
my car doesnt like its own airconditioning
it imparts that to me in subtle shudders n sighs
and tiny signals it sends me up the pedals n column
elli starts winding her window up
dont do that i yell over the music n rushing air
minna screams yes yes do it up
i go leave it alone!
minna in swedish is going do it up!do it up !
suddenly i burst into one of those voices fathers have
that really loud noisy “orrible one
when everyone else looks at each other
and goes
wow the olde bouy is really chucking a william…
and i go
leave it alone
i gotta drive
and i need some fucking air!
and the window goes down
the car goes silent
after a a couple of minutes elli says
daddy minnas crying
and then the guilt n rotteness come down on me
and i bluster about like a total out of synch daddy-o
who dont understand or know nuthing
“but what…i mean…i didnt mean to…oh come on now…what did i…”
etc etc
till elli says
daddy shut up
wow
this being a fambley manne gig much tuffer than being a space rocker
i mean the boys dont cry if i yell at em for a start
anyway
theres some sorta constant argy bargy between les twilliepops
all the way frome batemans bay to nth bond-eye-podd
thru wild lush forests
thru depressing grey industrial areas
past dead kangaroos n cemeteries
the twills argue the toss
when we get to kiama i do my block again
it takes elli half an hour to buy a packet of crisps
minna n me sit parked in the sun frying n fuming
but ya know what?
minutes later we’re all laughing again
and carrying on…
its just the way we are (i suppose)
argumentative…..
and
silly
syrinx the minx has suggested
that i take you thru my ipodd
so as an occaisional feature
tomorrow we’ll make a start on a n b n c
ok?
please forgive me
let me go

warm regs
s k

gee fiendss
i hate to start the day off
with a negative feeling out there
but i think my fucking ipodd
just had a severe personality crisis
it cant get off the apple emblem
its going on and off n halfway on halfway blank
and to tell ya the truth i feel quite dismayed
i feel a little sick n worried that my carefully tended
hand selected filled with love n devotion machine
has contracted lunacy and is acting like a gone-un
i mean if it was my horse i’d have to shoot it
oh boy i hope i kept my warrantee
ha ha nervous laughter
sk : this isnt blogg i’s expecting to write
muse : get over it and stop crying over yer dead little friend there
sk : it cost like 600 bucks!
muse : what were you gonna listen to?
sk : the equatorial stars by f and e
muse : damn i like that that one too
sk : boo hoo
muse : when did you find out?
sk : just now! when i tried to turn it on..
muse : cant you get it fixed?
sk (miserably) i dont know….i dont know
muse : but a lovely view here nonetheless
sk : yeah…but i wanted some music
muse : course someone out there is thinking you should
play eye choons from ye olde lappy instead but…
sk : i cant cause im…
muse : on someone elses computer
sk : still i say boo hoo…
muse : describe your surroundings
sk : yer just trying to get my mind off my podd!
muse : shall i help you?
sk : go ahead…im fuckin’ too devastated here…
muse : sk is sitting in a study, a real study
like you might find leo g carroll or someone in
its walls are deep red
one door leading outside is black
another door leading to a room where e and m are asleep is wooden
the floor is wooden n polished
books line the wall
old tomes, medical textbooks
biographies of people long gone
the table he sits at seems to be a big plank of wood
with all its grains swirls whorls n stuff
outside the window are trees
strange pine-y looking trees with green mottled bark
a creek fed by the sea is still
as are the trees
the sky is a wan reluctant blue
sk is dressed in a black p=a tshirt brown shorts n explorer sox
he is tanned and trim but his face reveals tiredness n excess
sk : easy there…!
muse : down the south coast….where he loves it
sk : the south coast between sydney n melbourne
is some of the most beautiful, pleasant-climed
spiritually inspiring country in the world
muse : where your father died…just down the road
sk : yes…and that too…
muse : hows your mothers book going…
sk : was enjoying it till russell mentioned many !s
almost every sentence finishes in a ! (!)
muse : so what…?
sk : well i cant stop noticing em now…
muse : gentle birdsong fills the air
sk : im on holiday….
muse : by the seaside
sk(sadly): no keethy urbane though…
muse : its better this way…
sk : he wouldnt care if his ipod exploded…
muse : no i guess not
sk : is this the best we can come up with today?
muse : you wanna be fuckin’ lord tennyson every day?
sk : its just that, well, my readers…
muse : they cant expect baudelaire when ya pods kaput, man
sk : but…its just so unsatisfactory this way
muse : i know…we had a good blogge planned for today
sk : i was gonna reveal everything about…
muse : and all that deeply personal stuff about …
sk : shhh! ive changed my mind…im already being sued
muse : oh i forgot
sk : actually i was gonna tell the true story about..
muse : too soon too soon…keep that for later, ron
sk : yer right…as usual
muse : well i guess that is it then…
sk : yeah
muse : and yer trusty subscribers….
sk : fuck it! they better unnerstand im in shock n grief
muse : for a machine…some bohemian spiritual seeker…ha!
sk : im everybody and still a no-one
***************************
fin

so this is 2007 eh?
how futuristic….
the killer sits in kitchen
the harbour bridge is obscured by cloud
everybody sleep sleep sleep
sydney still very quiet
aint this the day that all the “straights” go back to work?
those lazy “straights”…
here i am a first class boheemyan
and im up early n im working…
maybe i should jump in ye olde falcon
and drive round blowing my own horn
today im gonna drive twillies down the south coast
to visit olde frends dr jimmy +the tiny tot
now very very coincidentally
you cant guess whos staying practically next door
(i aint exagerrating!)
keethy urbane and ms nicci mankid
yep
and ive already daydreamed this scenario for ya
the olde being gets up early…as is his wont
hes wandering on that beach
when he hears excuse me
arent you steeeve kill-bee?
i spin around…its a guy about 40
long sandy hair and a cuppla huge body guards
keethy?
steve! listen man i got all the cherches records dude
oh steve…wont you write some million selling songs with me?
well uh keethy thats nice..but…uh…
cmon steve look i’ll give ya a million right now
(bodyguard whips out a chequebook
keith signs it and rips it out , hands it over)
we go up to niccis holiday house
i meet her daddy doctor horatio mankid the famous elbow surgeon
i meet the sister livinia mankid and her husband whatsisname
and finally
ah she enters the room
austraylias verry verry own
and
the highest paid feemail moovie star in tha wirld
and shes says
stevie oh i loved priest = aura
and then we all get on like a house on fire
doctor horatio looks at my elbows (got the all-clear)
livinia produces spliff champers n dragons
but keethy …i thought you were in rehab
fuck that maan…its christmas
wow keethy n i get on like brothers
hes read all the same books
he likes all the same records
at the end of a long session
its fixed
im gonna work on keethys new album
hes gonna buy me a mansion in vaucluse
and
build a studio in basement
we’re going down the lexus shop tomorrow
and hes gonna pick me out a cuppla guzzlahs
i get home to dr j and tt
no one can believe my good luck
we’re sitting there celebrating
when a knock comes at the door
its the bodyguards
mister urbane wants his cheque back…NOW!
but why but why? i ask
one of em reaches into his coat and pulls out a bit of paper
he said to give you this !
the bodyguard rolls it up and almost shoves it down my throat
they take the 1 million buck cheque n leave
i spit the ball of paper from my mouth
its a printout of that damn blogge….
but keethy….i didnt mean it…i didnt know you then…
i sob to myself
gently rocking in a corner
my mother always said my big mouth’d get me into trubble..
and now…
look
keethy if ya reading this
i wanna say
i love yer new album
im ready to go all country
(i once rode a pony at a school fete)
lets write some earthy stuff
out in the paddock with our hoes at the crack of day
that sort of thing
just gimme another chance
keethy?

last night at 930 i took a little pill
it had a dragon on it
i wash it down with a glass of champers
and a joint chaser
you see new years eve is an excuse to overdo it
its the tradition
nothing happens for a while….
after about half n hour i feel a warm flash
slight nausea n dizziness
then im catapulted into some other dimension
thats always there
its indescribable
doesnt matter what i say here
i dont care if yer anti-drugs neither
the dragon opened up a lovely door n i stepped thru
ah sweet sweet romantic hours
i stagger out to watch fireworks from kitchen
wow im so confused….
i collapse into bed at 300
totally blasted out of my sweet mind
oh so nice to get out of that mind for a few hours
im someone else
i walk around on softly padding feet
my voice has become soft, almost inaudible
im knocking back champagne mixed with raspberry cordial
(a house specialty)
smoking dope like its going out of fashion
(it IS out of fashion)
i seem to have lost myself
a new me standing looking out of my eyes
this new me has no past or future
he remembers nothing
he cant really make sense of the world
the simplest things seem so difficult
i pour the champagne and my hands seem miles away
i catch sight of myself in the mirror
is that really me
my pupils so huge
like im taking everything in
my face is flushed and i look like a wildman
i wouldnt like to get in a lift with a guy like that
i stare at myself
my own face has always fascinated me
it always looks so different
now its the face of a stranger
my wife appears like a pale angel
when we kiss it seems centuries pass
there is no before n after
only a now
here in the sunroom with the christmas tree lights winking
the ipod hi fi plays
massive attack
spain
goldfrapp
marconi union
all around distant parties laughter
random local fireworks go off
of course baby bloody bumper wakes up now n then
i seem to get in a loop that last for years
the baby cries
i get her off to sleep
i sneak out to waiting wife
when…..
boo hoo boo hoo
baby has woken up again..
and it starts over
it seems like forever
i been doing this
i am in a pleasant detached place
where there is no memory conscience or pain
i move in slow mo thru the thick air
perfect weather
a warm night with delicious sea breezes
is this how life was in the garden?
why cant it be this always
a living dream
a fantasy
a watercolour mirage of soft pleasure
however
today when i wake up
im totally fucked
no energy
no nothing
i end up sleeping in till 5!
i still feel pretty bloody wasted
i walked down the beach with evie
and it washed it off a little
anyway
no more strength left to ……

erskine pushed his way thru the lamps and branches
it was a warm enchanted evening
and the stars promised action
the old year had ended
as years often do
and while the new one had not really began
he slipped into the margin
the penumbrae that exist in time
he explored a timeless feeling among the red n green lights
he didnt know anyone at the garden party
except of course
linda wong
the aging but still beautiful hostess and qi gong tycoon
who had taught him to pin men to the walls with his chi
who had shown him the silent place
who had stood on a mountaintop and flown
who had introduced him to opium
who had initiated him into animist pleasure
who had never held back from a happy ending
who now
even at her age
moved pantherlike amidst the cactii n shrubs
many of the guests were orientals
making erskine feel large pale n clumsy
they conversed rapidly in birdlike languages
the women twittering and singing
the men laughing musically
erskine knocked back his coca-buton
a liquor made from coca leaves
it was green n sweet
and it hit the spot
a small orkestra of gentle strings
the moons light diffused
and partially hidden behind pearl lined clouds
a perfumed garden indeed
the booze went to his head
a warm flush of blood
almost a slight passing sensation of dizziness
the booze spread outward
from a glowing glyph in his belly
to his cold extremities
new years eve
what was the new date again
1950 something
no that could not be right…
erskine bumped into a waiter
carrying a plate of small cakes
can i have one…?
the waiter smiles
go on go on
i choose a small berry thing
mmm nice says erskine
but theres a weird taste in there somewhere
erskine struggles to remember that taste
he looks up but the waiter has disappeared amongst the trees n guests
a shaft of silver moonlight illuminates the ornate ponds
vicious eels twist amongst the lilies and lotuses
peacocks drink at the edges
i sit on a bench and relax into the night
linda wong sits next me and takes my arm
having a good time?
i guess so..
having fun?
now linda, you know i dont believe in fun…
she paused in the darkness before saying
come with me into the house
without waiting for me to answer
she pulled me behind her
linda wong n erskine
before midnight
in the garden
the gazebos and statues of nymphs
the grapevines curling in trellises above them
a sweet mild breeze from the sea
white birds sat in the trees
her grip was strong on his arm
small manicured fingers
what is it linda?
where are we going?
you see! you see!
erskine followed her up the steps
inside a few waiters lingered in the kitchen
and a black cat…her familiar…slept alertly
in here in here she chirruped
pulling him down a hallway
then up a short flight of stairs
erskine could now look down at the party in the garden below
see the lanterns cheerful glow
hear the chatter
i could almost make out the words….
the woman lay in the deepening shadows of her room
she lit the pipe and lay there smoking
erskine just sat there in the darkness
the distant laughter of the party below them
that familiar smell
she handed him the pipe
it was like an elephant with a long long trunk
inside the elephants head a chunk of opium smouldered
erskine pulled down a few mouthfuls
can words take us into his dream?
a soft world
a cushioned existence
a plane of luxury
everything merging
the angles of the night
the womans soft voice whispering
do anything you like it says in my ear
anything? i say
anything you like….
the fans whirr on the ceiling
the black cat creeps into the room
the sea laps the shore
the sea takes the shore in its mouth
and the white waves turn red
the stars fall from the sky
as the old year dies
erskine redirects all his time
into her whole evening
let me watch he says
let me see
the calendar flaps in the breeze
years years years
the day waits at the door
a new day, shy and unsure
the party has ended
the waiters have gone
even the eels sleep dreamless in their ponds
it is now
erskine has dressed and stumbled away
its only me now
here
in the new year

oh my brothers n sisters of the blogge
its almost over
hold your breath till sunday night
maybe itll be alright
if you been reading
you’ll know its been a bad year
grant died
aunty irene died
my mothers brother uncle sid died
lena larsson an old friend from sweden
ian cooke 46 camping with his son..an old neighbour of mine
both twillies diagnosed syringomyelia
elli operated but who knows outcome exactly?
their mother diagnosed brain growth…..
one op down
one to go
ian rilen sydney superstar succumbs to the big c
but all things must pass
but you never get used to it when it does
still the question what happens when we die is unanswered
the most pressing n important matter of all
but we all go on living like we’re immortal
and putting off telling people we lovem n actualizing it
me included
getting all angry over a missed turn
being goaded n prodded to lose my temper
being grumpy n sour cos im stoned or tired
choosing to be on yer own when somebody needs ya
not visiting yer parents n family when ya gotta chance
getting miffed instead of getting into it
going off in huff instead of going with the flow
losing face n finding fault
chasing money youth fame power
avoiding poverty age infamy being humbled
still trying to fix things
rig things
control everything n everybody
getting bored real easy
not looking into peoples eyes
and never never never
being in the moment
right now
this one here
you see
its continuous
not frag-ment-ed
its one long song
but my mind is just up to its olde tricks
to keep the deep me
enthralled
but the deep me-being
is now letting ye olde mind n “personality” know
we will continue the revolution
however we can
and even if we cant stop the bad things
we gonna carry on with the good we can do from here
but oh mind…!
mind your mind if ya cant face yer face
mind your mind if ya cant race yer race
mind your mind
mind
time out of mind
why i gotta good mind to….
my stupid mind
can someone tell it to get out of the way
stop promising stuff
stop hanging around when its not needed
i mean my hands dont try n strangle me when theyre bored
they play the bass
they painting pictures
they type my blogge
they feel the chi
and then when i dont need em
they just lie or hang there
still n peaceful
but the mind….
its going all the time…
im swimming
my mind is going
think about the caravan
think about 4th form at lyneham high
think about ziggy stardust
think about mwps last e-mail
think about how bored you are
think about whether you can stop now
think about that argument you had
think about all the wicked lowdown nassty things you ever did
(boy theres a few laps there…)
think about that book youre sposed to write
think about sex
think about drugs
think about death
and all the time
the deep-me being
is trying to hush these voices
with force
or by subtleties
its trying to calm em down
not now not now it whispers amongst the clamour
fucking stupid mind
if it could shut down for 5 seconds
i would understand everything
but then i wouldnt need it
its a temporary system….
it doesnt wanna be replaced with the purest knowledge
it doesnt wanna be placated with deep calm n detachment
oh no
it wants to rev you up
it wants to get me going
and so too do people
the calmer i (try to) become
the moore they rev my engine
just to see if the olde me is still at home
(he is…under house arrest!)
but its my fault for letting them
this is my gnu yeers rezzolooshun
not to argue
not to argue
knot to r.gue
tim once said
theres 2 modes in the studio
argumentative or getting fucked over
meaning i guess
ya gotta fight fer what yer want
but if youre fighting…
havent you already lost the fight?
so i wanna be in the moment
not arguing some useless thing
using up my carefully cultivated chi chi gong
2006
the pleasure n the pain
what does it all mean now?
can i even really remember much at all?
rob dicko seems like hundred years ago
sitting in my kitchen 7 44
surrounded by an unseasonal mist..
think i’ll go swimming
think i’ll have a sauna n a real hot shower
and walk amongst my people
all them eurotrash tourists
the brazilian types
the jap tourists
(how thats racist idont know)
the yankee tourists with loud shirts n silent wives
the indians with their saris n castes
the local yokels rubbing their hands together
bondi is invaded by hordes of maurauding ninnies
getting sunburnt
eating breakfast
at the nauseating egg n bacon strip on campbell pde
getting parking tickets theyll never bother to pay
gettting dumped n thumped by surf that they have no clue about
dancing at dance parties and dropping E’s
walking up the road carrying slabs of beer
and babbling like babel in a million languages
german chinese nigerian
the outdoor cafes swell to overflowing
money rains down on bondi
everyday not just sunday now
everyday for about 3 weeks
then one day…
then one day
inexplicably
theyre all gone
vanished
and where the glamourous italians n sunburnt irish once were
is only seagulls n a few lazy surfers n an olde fisherman
thats life
thats the cycle
thats the planet
that is in all things
see ya tomorrow
sk

x