The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

northern bondi
i’ll let you in on my thoughts
took miss aurora to orthodontist
he xrays her
he puts ice on her tooth
still cant decide says ye olde tooth-quack
could go either way
come back in 2 months
150 bucks thank you
bye
still in the dark with the tooth
we practise healing visualisation every nite
after a couple of pages of the silver chair
(we have to be gay exclaims the marshwiggle
..it was written in the 50s..
WHAT?! ask the doodles)
after that we try n imagine
how happy auroras tooth is back in its gum
i dunno if itll work fer sure
but it sure cant hurt..
*
i dunno if im sposed to preempt this record
the chreurch are working on
i dunno
someone might be angry if leaked it..
but
what the hell
in response to pubic demand
we are doing el momento the second
but thats all im saying
look for it in the new year
it aint finished yet anyway
some of the stuff ll surprise ya
including a version of a beautiful australian song
from about 1984
yeah…..
*
in the interests of those who like to
witness my inner tussle
heres some stuff about the blogg and 2211
there is a good case to close it down
leave em wanting more someone wrote
itd be neat abrupt artistic and achingly final
we’d all miss what goes on here
our community would be fractured
but so what…?
nothing lasts for eva
on the other hand
there have been some serious calls for an extension
a postponement of the inevitable
but thats life anyway, baybee
and ya see
i aint ever gonna dry up on ya
im just getting better n better
cmon aint it the truth….?
(he says in all modesty!)
my life is guaranteed to generate “blogge-fodder”
just think
the twillies arrive in less than a month
then theres the pretenders
the wineries
more new records
my new play (a-ha!)
the day to day blah blah of life chez kilbey
so it aint like you even seen the best
a mooted tour of eastern bloc
fuck imagine the stories im gonna beam into
yer homes from transylvania..
maybe i’ll bump into peter murphy there…ha ha
look the good stuff could keep coming
and now
we get
to
the
really
sordid
bit
and i aint gonna pull any pinches
i never never xpected
or could have fourseen
what this blogge is today
(insert your own idea of what it is here)
but its turned into something
all with your help
i wouldnt write this tripe if no one read it, would i
anyhow
i work on it 1-2 hours a day
and i thought
after a years free trial offer
i would accept voluntary contributions
for a trial six month period
to see if can earn enuff filthy lucre
off this thing
to keep my greed n avarice satisfied
although we do not have an extravagant lifestyle
what with my bad publishing deals
and silly mistakes
and my former addiction
and moving here n there
i earn less than yer average clerk
and its an uncertain n precarious thing
so im thinkin i could put a paypal on here
i could suggest a voluntary contribution of 1 dollar a week
you could pay in advance (or at anytime you like)
26 aust buck
(if you want, if you think its worth 15 cents a day)
but if you think thats a capitalist move
undermining my preachy bohemian baloney
then you can
a) keep reading fer free
b) fuck off
c) start yer own bloody blogge
some important things to remember
the blogge must be daily
that is an intrinsic necessity
for someone of my temperament
if i have a choice of not doing something
i will usually choose not to do it
ie i must swim every day
if i give myself leeway
i’ll never go down the pool
so dont write in and say
dear nevets
just blogge when ya feel up to it
you olde man of the sea
but ya see
i will never feel up to it!
its daily mandatorily!
this blog is no chore for me
i put so much love into it for you
and i feel like i know you…almost
and some of you i do know
i think its reasonable
to make it possible
that
if for some odd and strange reason
you would like to see this blogge continue
and grow n prosper
if ya dig shakespeare n hawkwind
if ya think jesus is just alright
and ya kinda dig lord vishnu
if ya like cranky olde hippy dribble
stoned deeply meaningless rambles
prose poems, poetic prose
war stories
dissection of music biz
personal stuff
explosively inspired purple prose
sad olde man lonely n poignant
optimism
pessimism
inside the murky wurkings of my groop
tributes n trashings
character assassinations
and fawning glowing gushing praise
then you can contribute
or not
i m not gonna see who is and aint
after six months i’ll see how i fell
is that may 22 007 little darling?
thats what im thinking of doing…
suggestions please…
by all means anonymously
if you wanna say yes or no
and not be derided by our more
“enthusiastick” comrades
so there ya go
a rough show of e hands
it dont mean yer committing to nothing
im just curious
and even if ya say yay or nay
i may
still do the oppozite
ok
lemme hear ya now…
come on
down the back
whaddya want ta happen?
time john yeblick erskine neumann

put it all together n whaddya got?
i dunno
life continues…..
old maps come to light
journeys into darkness
and if the morning never arrives…?
oh, it always does…
eventually…
spring
the burst potential of our earth
abundant n green
its all been worked out for you
a self regulator
its been wound up
now it just goes n goes
dont ask me what forever means
i dont think we’ll be around to find out
not like this
not in these beggars rags
and uncomprehending grins
all things in time, being
you cant read the end 1st
itll make no sense
till you learn
unlearn
i believe in a certain ok-ness of things
im certain uncertainty will get me
a particular vagueness
a softly deafening racket
the drowning air
the freezing fire
the moving ground
under the black soil
seeds push
life renews again n again
whatever you throw at it
however you deal with it
you cant defeat it with money
or
pleasure
it cant be extinguished by a flame
life, always was, always will be
life comes from life
nothing comes from nothing
think about it
even longer
its 707 in the morning
everyone sleeping
resting for the day ahead
the children growing imperceptibly
before my very eyes
life forces them up
even against their will
they grow
they gotta learn
we gotta learn
some of the old ways we must abandon
we gave war a chance….didnt we?
cant we try another approach?
or is that the only song on our list
kill em
men women children animals planet
the misery of meat
cutting down the precious trees
make more stuff
the latest stuff
gimme gimme gimme
me too
im just as bad
i take n take n take
where is it all coming from?
who cares?
by the time it runs out
i’ll be long-gone, john
unless…
unless….
ah forget it
im happy
i got all my stuff
a thousand dollar gas-guzzlah
im making my own pollution now
and gulpin’ down that sweet petrol
burp!
excuse me
i’ll just help myself ….aye?
i mean
aint that what its all here for?
is this a fault in my thinking?
is life a deliberately structured
series of paradoxes n dilemmas
you gotta negotiate
or try again n again nagain…?
how did nevets do this life then?
oh…maybe a C plus
if we dont take blah blah blah
into consideration
nevets has been naughty
but nevets didnt know
he was only hurting himself
and its funny
how
even when ya sometimes know the right way
you still take the wrong one
isnt that stupid?
anyway
its a warm day
is that global warming
or just late spring?
ah…..thatll do for today
you get the picture, dontcha?
more pearls o’ wishdom tomorra then
love from killbey

hard workin’ man
slavin’ over a hot studio
sing a song, being
sing a song of space
the time wont pay no mind
look at your watch..
we are talking in space….not time
neuro-voyager
crystal discharges power
notes pile up on notes
word upon word
beat over beat
section within section
why have you suddenly connected, being?
what is the force that animates thee?
music, sex, music, sex
travelling towards the beginning
the start of our journey
i create
music
daughters
blogges
restless mangey olde panther
weilding yer confused powers
thc prophet
too much on yer plate
it all coming out
god help me
ive tapped in
my ancestors tellin’ me
go go go time being being
fill the void with yer stuff
do it soon, do it soon
my thoughts are too big for my head
i dont have the technique
to achieve my innervision
throwing music at a canvas
laying down the words with strings n pastels
complete stories unravel
who can i turn to?
who will understand?
where is the switch?
my fingers w/ new flexibility
my eyes getting worse
n my ears ringing…
can you believe i dont care…?
my five daughters
my four guitars
my three compadres
my two hands
my one life
my thousand dollar falcon
i cruise the darkened streets of sydney
after recording
listening to kraut rock
pulsing thru my decent stereo
time being in a capsule of sound
hot stormy night
air rushes in windows
my hair floats about
the trees go past
so happy in my anonymity
no one knows
no one cares
music
always music
from the very beginning
once more from the top
a tap dripping
rhythmic breath
in
out
in
out
my wife
a white planet in the dark night
the children
sweet childlike dreams
god protect n preserve my sweet hearts
elli n minna arrive less than a month
one man vs 6 women
my foolish female flock
poor olde daddy man
swamped in filial confusion
here daddy
here daddy
over here daddy
no here daddy
dadda dadda dadda
steven steven steven
how can i keep em all happy
busy being busy being
busy doing nothing
always took candy from strangers
never wanna learn me no trade
never wanna be like papa
workin for the boss every night n day..
i need a love to keep me happy
baby
baby keep me happy
baby
baby keep me happy

still life with motion….
the pool
the yoga mat
walking appreciating
internal dialogues
huge breakthrus
tiny steps
im excited
im raw
im living it in the present
up close n fer real
vivid
xxxx
visceral n cerebral
my fingers over necks n bodies
my breath filling a microphone with sound
my chest resonates
the words slide from my mind to my throat
1 2 3 4
and….rolling
its all mixed up
its a wrapped up
its a take
print it!
save it!
throw it in the back of the falcon!
daddy come back..
time daddy being….
must find out
must get this n that
always more for daddy to do
daddy neverstop
farther farther farther
further n further
yonder the beyond
not too far
now
keep it up
thats it!
ah!

working working working
gettin ‘ sore fingers
gettin’ a sore throat
(awww….!)
oh my “pitta” is outtacontrol
im on a roll
ive gone manic
im throwing out songs/ballets/architecture
ive designed a new earth and filled it with kilb-bots
ive thrown caution before swine
and pearls to the wind
i mean i got words accumulating in my shoes
i can write the blues during a black out
im rockin’
and
reelin’
im plucking the bass
and now there aint any more feathers
im drinkin’ unicorns with pink bulls
i say to others
hold me down boys
up up up i go
i mean im crazy
or is it just me
one hand playing
one hand painting
one hand on the 12
second hand close
ooh ohh nice crotchet, baybee
im quavering in perspective
i got 8 types of ambiguity
and a half eaten red herring
ive singlehandedly defeated punctuation
im saving you commas n capitals by the truckload
oh be serious, time bee, you say
yer cryptick jive ennervates
baby i aint no knobtwiddler
im a master fader
i have backwards reverb with my lunch
i stand up n say
?gnineppah stahw
space?
i m not talking to it…
ive gone marine…
ive gone out
then i went
im fucking across it baybee
and im across you
bathing in your estuaries
gazing at your lagoon
im diving deep beneath the surface
i can hold my breath for weeks
idiots begone
idiots begone
idiots begone
im daddy spearfisher
you gonna wriggle n shudder
you gonna attract sharks
the rip is sucking you out
down to the bed you go
down deep where monsters lie
barbs n shaft
hook n line
wrecks n debris
slowly now slowly
spinning out of sight
warm warm warm
blue n green
you flood
i pour
over

ok ok ok
so uh
yessaday
you unnerstand fiends
im in the studio
im a strumming my geetar n singing
when the young n rather naive engineer
motions to me to come into the controlroom
“ah steve theres someone outside to see ya!”
who is it, sunshine? i ask
“some olde guy” says the ‘neer
n then he looks up n has a good deco
at my white n bristly beardie
“…i mean, even older than thyself” he mumbles
i stand there puzzled?
who do i know whos older than me?
joycie bennett….gee there arent that many others..
“hes american” offers the young engineer helpfully
american? oh wow
this is interesting..
“..hes got straight silver hair…” he says
tom verlaine!!!!
oh wow its tom verlaine
suddenly a large figure strides into the control room
gee tom has put on weight…a real lot
but his hair is real nice now….
hang on…waiddaminnit..jus’ lemme c
that aint tommy milfigur vermont
its …
no it couldnt be
its…
“steve? im donald! call me donny r!”
no way
i mean
not the ex minister for war n death…?
what the hell…?
“lemme explain mahself”
said donny r in a brandy n cigar voice
and he sat down heavily
clutching his geetar case
“ya see i lost mah fucking job last week
and i look in the mirror
an i say donny yer still a fine lookin’ guy
yer silver hair looks pretty good
a lot fuckin’ better than eltons rug transplant
all that boyish hair on top of that silly old face
an billy joel …..ha!
and you know
i got the contacts
wanna play turkemenistan, boys…?
an’ you know
i aint just a gunslinger
im a geetar slinger too
and my motto?
make love and war baybee..
so ok you square cats
lets boogie woogie…!”
but donny i said very confused
whatcha doing here in botany with the chrunch?
“ah ha ya see i been thinkin bout a change in direction
for a while now”
donny confided in his big important voice
“and theres 3 things i know about rocknroll:
there are those who rock
there are those who do not rock
there are those who might rock
and then
there are those who rock
but neither we or them know it!”
but donny thats 4 things i said
“any way….”
says donny , giving me a furious glance
“i been looking for a band i could join
and i kinda hoped that after i had keith pushed outta his tree
i might get the job of rhythm guitar in the greatest rocknroll band
in the world…but the little bugger recovered
so i need to join a band where the guitarists have gone awol..”
but pete n marty aint gone ……awol….
suddenly i swallowed
the awful truth was dawning somewhere in my heart of hearts
“no, aint they?” smiled donny r with a twinkle in his rheumy eye
then i remembered
id gone round to get mwp in paddo that morning
a fucking no show
then out to the airport waiting for pk to get off his plane
nada, nothing
no luggage
not a trace
tim n i tried to ring em
we got a weird message from both their mobiles
a kinda white noise n some machine clicking..
but why the fuck didja choose us.i asked almost in tears
well i just googled mah name n the phrase space rock
and ya came up from yesterdays blog
and w
said as a last favour take the prez jet down under
and visit the boys
n
see what y’all can work out
and then w says
my little pal howard the coward
says theyre gonna be changing to a republic soon
and under the milky way gonna be a shoe-in
for national anthem
so yer in on a good thing donny!!
….anyway here i am
and im ready to fucking rock!”
the silverhaired warmongering old space rocker
pulled out a black les paul with gold fittings
plugged it into a marshall amp
he dipped his hand in his pocket
and pulled out a bloodred geetar pick
the donny r logo emblazed in silver like his hair
“a present from the boys at halliburton”
he chuckled to himself
then quickly tuned up the guitar
“check this out, boys”
he launched into a scorching riff
a macine-gunnin’, divebombin’, napalmhurlin howl of pain
tp and i looked at each other
youre in
i said
donny looked up from his fretboard
“you wont regret it” he grinned
he picked up a joint from the ashtray
n sparked it up
“and boys…?” he said in that deep croaky voice
“I fuckin’ inhale…!!!!”

moon still in the sky tho its morning
2 red and green parrots flying manoevres
redshift emitting
new clear day
the clouds having fled
today the c. is going in studio
a beautiful studio
full of nice olde fashioned things
make a little record
not THE record
just a little record
pick marty up at 11
its 6.18 now
yesterday bought a car
drove around a bit last nite
round randwick n bronte
maybe i stumbled into a bargain..?
we’ll see
it has a cd player…
thats important isnt it?
i love listening to music in a car
i hope it never breaks down
cos i dont know my fueline
from my handful of blues….
life continues to open up
i can do anything now
anything i want
but i have to want…
working on a painting
dakini in bondi
my fingers already anticipate playing today
all that time is paying off
you gotta persevere
even clumsy people like me
eventually figure it out
see
thats all i had
the ability to persevere
mmmmm
hmmm
a glorious late spring day is blooming
sydney IS a beautiful city
i’d rather spend my time here i guess
but gee
theres some nice parts elsewhere too
switzerland sometimes grazes my thoughts
those people are living it large
fairytail bits n everything
and legal dope n dope
you can go in a pot emporium there
and check the charts
whats # 1 today, squire?
ah, the white widow sir (yeblik strain)
and whats at # 2
that’d be the northern lights
#3?
durbin poison
#4?
acapulco gold
#5?
neils purple heads
#6?
bobs indoor/outdoor
#7?
san diego chronic
#8?
big pick-ups special blende
#9?
aliens blonde lebbo hash
and finally
#10?
howies surry hills hydro

well i call that civilised
as you know
the junkies get given smack
instead of methadone
this keeps all the crime n desperation out of it
while the unfortunate works his way thru his addiction
but at least they aint breaking into yer car
and most of em have full time jobs
unlike prohibitionist moralistic countries
like most of the rest of us
lovely scenery too
real sound of music stuff if ya want it
a hippy ethos
and live n let live attitude
you could do a lot worse than switzerland, baybee
************************************************
so sweet to see donald bumsfield get the arse
why waste words on that
pathetic moronic archaic fossilised pea-brain anyway?
i hope yer demo-krats are a bit cooler n bohemian
than those gorillas n gorilla-esses you got now
cmon
i ask again
could there have worse people than who ya got now?
seriously….
here in jolly nsw we gotta sex scandal
oh my my
those naughty overpaid pollies
sordid sick alpha males
good for nothing
but arguing n getting their own wages increased
yes theres the occaisional good ‘un
but ya just look at most of em
the corruption n lechery there on their faces
for all the world to see
powerful yet useless
self-serving just like a petrol pump
feathering their own beery nests
and not
giving a fuck about the people
they supposedly” represent”
i mean you think bumsfield
after all his death n mayhem n lies n bullshit
goes home empty handed
oh no no no
even tho he completely fucked up
getting loadsa people fucking killed
all over the place
you bet the bastard gets a nice lil golden handshake
that’d be worth more
than all of us here make together
he should be bankrupted
and pilloried
people should chuck rotten eggs n tomatoes at ‘im
for all the destruction he has helped facilitate
he should be fuckin’ flogged
one stroke for every iraqi kid who died cos of him
and another lash for every “wmd” that wasnt there
yet this idiot bestrode the world for six years
i ask again
could even i have done a worse job?
fancy giving a total imbecile like that an army…
anyway
goodbye donald
i know youll still be in the background
pulling your sick little strings
as usual
manipulating peace into war
ploughshares into swords
bringing money into yer own pocket
when will we learn?
when will we learn?

auroras colouring in some fairies
clock says”tick, tick, tick”
music goes blip blip bonk
birds outside go tweety tweety tweet
the clouds say nothing
passing silently thru the sky
when everyone gets up
we’ll drive somewhere
have a swim n brekky
then 11 to pick up mwp
stop at liquor shop buy some zwac unicum
(hello kevin n. we can buy unicum in bondi!)
then get to studio
hurry up n wait
while boffins fiddle with the mics
n stuff
then…
let the music do the talkin’
ha ha
except for the lyrics, that is
have a good satyrday!
or am i fauning all over you?

genius is pain and im in agony
always so misunderstood
so hard to be inclusive
i read yesterdays comments
someone uses the word apostasy…
ah you see
thats my people
thats where im at…
others write
oh dont write about the past…..
yeah thats like saying to huge hefner
oh dont print pictures of any more tits….
(especially after my declaration to probe nostalgia)
ok sunshine…how far back is “the past”
where does the present end and the future begin
did you think i was called the time being for nothing….?
how can it not be in the past?
any book you read is he did this, she said that
its rarely in the present…
actually ive experimented with that here on these black pages
writing in the present n continuous present
exploring the dilemmas it throws up
were you reading then?
i guess writing in the future is pretty hard
you will do that, he shall say that
its more projection of will than the future
oh dear
sometimes i realise im like a teacher
some of my students are totally digging the lesson
some of em are doing pretty great
some are hangin’ in there
some are confused
some maybe shoulda taken french..
you see cecilias comment
a sorta fairytale
ah you see
that tells me that cecilia knows her timebeing
i aint gonna explain that to the rest of ya
but to tell you the truth
every now n then
one of ya writes a comment
that really tickles this olde boys heart
try as hard for me as i try for you
dont go writing rude comments like do this dont do that
why should i listen to you?
this is one of the highest ratin’ space rock blogges
on this planet
why do i need your anonymous advice?
read between the lines before you react
are you missing the point?
are you forgetting the tb is olde shrewd n crafty
i was fucking about with words when a lotta ya
were still sucking teething rusks
(and god, i hate to play the wise olde manne card but….)
your comments should be elegant aphorisms
quotes from amazing songlyrics
i dont even mind a bit of comeuppance
but please please please
just use yer head before responding
i am the time being
the past is my domain
you see i have a photographic memory
you couple that with my literary devices
and my groovy hep-cat lingo
i can transport you there baby
even better than being there…!
all you gotta do is read n let yer imagination do the walkin’
or am i just being facetious?
do i really have such a high opinion of myself?
wel, yes
and
no
you see
life aint black n white
im pretty clever but im stupid too
im quite kind
but i got a hell of a nasty streak
quite cowardly for a brave man
you see
life is complicated
who am i?
who are you?
i try to let you in on my doubts n triumphs here
my losses my gains
my future my past
couldnt you see
i wassa letting ya in on my minds processes
one of my aspects dangling the potential
of richard ploogs many adventures
(which would be an amazing read)
in front of another aspects eyes
saying
why dont you write about this?
i wasnt asking you the audience whether
i should write about him or not
he was only there as an example!
jesus wept!
if i do ever wanna write about him i will!
but obviously
if you read it
the conclusion reached
was
i wasnt!
you know yer minds like a muscle
flex it a little
let it jog round the block
think a little before you jump in
i never taking the obvious route here
i exploring subtle things
delicate shades
i carefully building a mythology for you
for more than a quartah of a senchurry
you cant jump in at the last moment
and say do this dont do that
sometimes my posts are vulgar….fuck!
sometimes theyre slapstick…too bad!
sometimes theyre too oblique….quill!
sometimes theyre too sad…my heart bleeds
sometimes theyre too much….dont read it then
i aint changing my course for no one
you hear me
NO ONE
unless theyre offering me a stacka fucking cash
I’LL TAKE IT!!
cos i and my five daughters n sea snails have gotta eat…
but did you see a suggestions box on my site, mister?
cmon
i know y’all love it when i have a rant
now you thickheaded geese can write in and say
original stuff like
“cool down”, “take it easy”
or the omnipresent
“chill”
dont you recognise a consummate writer
at the fucking peek of his pow-ars
you fillystein ninnies
youre getting this transmission fer free
i got words flowing outta me like a river
this is my specialty
i am deliberately bad sometimes
COS ITS BORING TO BE EXCELLENT ALL THE TIME
ha ha ha!
iam an egotistical olde wretch!
i am a bigheaded chauvinist borge-wah drip!
iam a washed up rinse dry olde rocker!
oh i wish i was bonus or michael stripe!
or both at once
michael stripey-bon-bon
or little thommy yorkie
write whatever you like…
i mean
look
some of you are writing lovely comments
you know it
i know it
this blogge was for you as well
so you could smirk
as you watch the cranky olde teacher
tell off the dull witted members of class
its a good feeling…..isnt it?
keep up the good work
mr garratt have you finished yer assignment
“pragmatic things to say at the end #78”?
its due by the 22nd november

the next morning
nevets yeblik rolled outta bed
it was twenty to six
a grey sky streaked with pink n mauves
unusually cold for november
too cold to march in the global warming protest
nevets was busy embracing paradox
he went out on his balcony
he smoked a spliff
a blend of 2 outdoor types
he watch the smoke race up the empty silent street
he feels the warm rinse
as the thc hits the god given receptors
everything very still in the dawning world
all bugs
all cats n dogs
even, strangely , the birdies
nothing rustled, tweated or growled
the trees were perfectly motionless
there was no breeze
nevets drew a sweet lungful down deep
he was in his blue dressing gown n his boots
he musta looked a comical sight
standing out there puffing away
his thin fine hair drooping around
his white beard neat n trimmed
his suntanned freckly skin
the lines that traversed his face
grey eyes like the sky
a paradox even unto himself
nevets never knew what was gonna happen next
he was ostensibly getting stoned
at this early hour
to write his blogge
while the house was quiet
he put on moondawn by klaus schultze
his tiny white speakers
slim compact n portable
the same colour as his computer
oh gee! nevets you moderne olde foole
all the latest stuff…..wow!
i bet hes really happy now
the sound of sequenced analog synths
he notices his tinnitus almost as loud as the music
nevets gulps down some fiji water
and applies his migrastick
with some pleasure he strokes his beard
the trees have begun to move
now
although there is still no wind
a mournful crow calls in the soft morning
black n sleek perched on a wire
nevets fiddles with his apparatii
this is the future after all
and this is fiction
where anything can happen
so ya gotta be quick!
nevets tap tap tap on his keyboard
nevets what are you writing?
nevets what labour you over with yon diligencia?
oh im writing a blogge of course….
why nevets why? whatsitabout?
nevets fiddles with fiji water
takes another swig
the music has taken an elegaic turn
oh nevets i admire your turns of phrase..
yes, im quite the little wordsmith says nevets
who are faves nevets?
oh no one youve ever heard of he grumbles
listen im trying to write something here
before the triplets wake up…
before the crow has time to end his sad song….
that same olde clocke goes tick tick never tock
a lorry rumbles off in he distance
the beachside suburb gradually shrugs its hedges
and scratches its nature strips
as it struggles to wake
why do anything?
hey nevets, i said why do anything?
hey nevets, i said fuck their system and its phoney baloney
yeah yeah says nevets, lemme write my blogge
i said hey nevets, whatta bout ploogy, huh nevets huh?!
whatta character nevets…!
another time says nevets
but all those hilarious anecdotes nevets
remember the time in pittsburgh when he….
there you go says nevets
not time to tell his tale yet….
nevets and i sit in silence
the crow has flown north looking for summer
doors burst open and suits pour out
big square noisy machines start up
belching blue smoke and nasty smell
the suits drive away
joggers run past backwards
the fruit in the bowl ripens
the streamers from the triplets birthday
still hanging and moving in the air
small knick knacks
little notes n lists on the fridge
elephants n ganeshas
a tin of simpkins forest fruit drops
2 cds
closer by joy division
hope springs by gersey
a script nevets will be reading today at 11 am
a frog mask from bali
its bulging red eyes
nevets does it scare the triplies?
nah theyre used to it…
nevets this klaus schultze record is starting to piss me off
its too buzzing n percolating for this time a day..
ok try this then…
oh yeah i heard it before
marconi union…
sounds like sumpthing symond poolenski might dig!
exactly
hey when is yer nemesis project happnin’ then nevets?
oh dee laid till next year?
whys that?’
i dunno, its not my department..
what IS your department?
smokin weed n bloggin’ till the bitta end..
ever thought of gettin’ a real job?
(nevets spreads his hands)
who’d fucking have me?
but youre articulate, well read discriminating..
exactly…so who’d have me?
(nevets jerks his thumb in the direction of his window
outside we can see in the distance
the harbour bridge n the towers of the city)
theres no place for me out there he says ruefully
marconi union become pensive
for a moment
i feel
that nevets is writing this
i shudder
am i losing it or what
a soft sequence begins via the union
im slightly achey n shivery
nevets types away in his glasses
he has short fingers n small hands
he types with one finga
but boy is he fast
his back starts to hurt
he sits back n stretches out from time to time
more migrastick
another fruit drop
another swig of fiji water
life by the drop
the tiniest things
the triplies stir in the beddybyes
artemis, flora n lulu
oh such little cuddlies!
their sea snail laid eggs
but the fishies ate all the baby snails
awwww!…..
today is nevets day of rest from the pool
its closed for cleaning
so today he can wallow in laziness
i mean he’ll still do his deep aura cleansing routine
with the magnets n rings
and the hydronated epi-thetes
plus tonically aligned breathing rimpostes
with serragated oompa-doompas
and for breakfast treeflesh with oak-milk
ok
theyre all up now
baby violet and all
i must depart
i must away

i dont know
i dont care
im all sixes n sevens
which other turkeys should be in my sights?
that rogue from yessaday got off light
which hero should i be lavishly praising?
who should i grovel to?
who should i lambast with bitter spleen?
who should be ignored?
who should be mentioned?
and who are you reading this twaddle?
whats in it for ya?
so yer interested in my back pages, are ya?
oh i wish i could give it ya
in one huge download..
the whole fucking lot
you pay me, say 500 bucks
then…
got no recollexion
i mean huge blank chunks
oh mi god
what did i do in those blank chunks?
did i murder someone?
did i write the greatest song ever
n immediately forget it?
did i turn into a dragonfly
and fly into the light?
what details were lost in the drudgery of addiction?
the funny stuff seems funnier that it was
the scary stuff was much scarier than seems
the glamourous stuff was more ordinary
the boring stuff was a lot more tedious
and its all over
the inviolate past
you cant touch these memories
i cant touch them either
a quarter of a century since i saw nick ward
almost fifteen since jay dee last played w/ us
what is my story?
a traffic accident with 15 different p.o.v.s
a buncha “you said that….no, i didnt”s
a whole loada people taking the credit
avoiding the blame…
“i tried to warn im”s
blah blah
autocrashbiography
dont believe everything ya read
even if you wrote it yourself
what is a fact?
search me
you order a bunch of old rockers vignettes?
i’ll just leave em here
in yer cerebellum, if ya like
heres a whole boxload of 1988
oh that should be interesting…
limos on way to airports
a hundred hotel rooms
smoke noise ringin’ in yer ears
waitresses n bellboys
takeoffs n check-ins
soundchecks n interviews
dawns n encores
studios n terminals
taxis n de-tuning
image drowning image
sound burying sound
a thousand spliffs
a thousand arguments
a thousand autographs
another flight
another early morning
another awkward situation
another bag to pack
another fish to fry
another place to play
cities people lights camera friction
snow wind sun darkness
nyc in winter
an afternoon in brisbane
a walk in the mountains
a swim in the adriatic
a bottle of wine
reading a book
sleeping in too late
doing my hair n having a shave
gaining n losing calluses on my fingers
a veggie burger with yam fries n a soy shake
the train to washington
brazil n its glamour n squalor
falling asleep on a bus somewhere
a cafe in amsterdam, zonked on space cake
bunks n breakfasts
sick n tired
full of myself, outta control
singin’ n playin’
all those theatres n pubs n clubs
n festivals n live telecasts
tv hosts n disc jockeys
Q: blah blah blah?
A: blah blah blah!
come here go there
do this avoid that
run around
wait around
run around
wait around
wade thru all the advice
write some new songs
try to remain vaguely sane n failing
this is what you always wanted
this is what you never wanted
why is everyone always angry with me?
why isnt it ever the way you thought?
is it over?
can i go now?
was that it?
can i have more?
yes
no
maybe
call me monday
i’ll tell ya after its all figured out
not as much as we hoped
never what ya expected
more than ya bargained for tho
good while it lasts
it dont last long
did you enjoy that?
heres the bill
heres your receipt
heres the ticket for yer luggage
heres where you sign..initial this here, please
heres yer guitar now go rock!
heres yer career now go be a superstar
heres yer review now go weep
heres yer room now go relax
heres yer audience now entertain em
heres yer support act now blow em offstage
heres the other druids in yer band, start fighting
heres yer adoring fans,start delusions of grandeur
heres yer abusive critics, begin revenge
heres yer faithful roadcrew begin matey-ness
heres yer drugs begin addiction
heres yer drink begin hangover
heres yer rise begin yer fall
heres yer fall begin yer obscurity
heres yer obscurity begin yer comeback
glorydays
heydays
paydays
but never never
gaydays
the cover of (australian) rollingstone
a gold record from the u.s.
a plaque(not on teeth)
saying utmw is numba one on all radio formats
(gee!)
a stolen guitar
a ruined shirt
an unread message
a lost moment
more travel
hit the road
make yer connection
more coffee sir?
more brandy sir?
have you read this weeks billboard?
steve, have you met larry weinerstein from a and r?
steve, this is millie gibshribble from publicity
steve, can i get a photo of ya screaming?
steve, how disappointed are you right now?
steve, how does it feel now?
steve, are you surprised?
steve, didja put danny raddawich on the guest list?
steve, its tony innane from kpox in sauselito!
steve, did i wake ya?….oh, sorry
steve, this ones cancelled
steve, this ones added
hey kilbey, what the fuck…?
bang!
is this how i experience it all?
yes and no
i could write for a hundred years
and i would never empty out
i put my fingers to the keys
and the memories flow
and sometimes a single second
takes an hour to describe
or you could jump over 1990
in one word
(but what is that one word today?)
stick around
im still plotting
im still in the thick of it
on the frontline for ya
yer brave
if maybe a little olde
correspondent
im gonna keep tellin ya how it is/was/will be
i dont pull no fucking punches
im gonna probe the soft white underbelly
of nostalgia
and im gonna do it with eloquence n style
hang in there
all will eventually be revealed
and then
youll be happy

its been my pleasure
or otherwise
to know some real characters
the 1st drummer in the chrunch
for example
the guy who called himself nick ward
that wasnt his real name
you see
this character had been one of the bullies
at bully high
his real name was nigel murray
and paradoxically
in one of lifes strange little twists
nick ward was the name of a slightly retarded kid
(i guess these days youd have some euphemism for that)
he had a strange lurching walk
and a huge thick pair of spectacles behind which
his eyes seemed to swim, impossibly large
i remember nigel murray ALWAYS teasing n hassling nick ward
making his already miserable life more miserable
i had a fight with nigel murray
my first day of school in canberra, in 1965
in those days i used to get in a few fights
before the teenage days when people started
knocking each others teeth out n noses in
i couldnt abide the thought of my pretty face goin’ to hell
on the end of some 15 year old dumb fist
but before that
i roughed n tumbled
nigel murray was a handsome boy
but you could tell at once he was hell bent on mischief
of course he won the fight
as all 10 year old fights seemed to end in those days
him pinning my shoulders down with his knees
me agreeing to him and the onlookers that he’d beaten me
quite civilised, i guess
before the black eye blood gushers of high school
anyway murray was in the year above me
it was such a pleasure to turn up for high school
2 years later n find murray on the steps
now notching up his terrorism a little
sneering laughing n threatening all the new kids
wherever playground misery could be found
there was little nigel
not usually the main bully
more like one of the taunting mockers
who come in their wake
as jackals attend lions perhaps
*
nick ward was a constant figure of amusement
to nige n his pals
and it seemed to me
niges handsome face was beginning to contort
the sneers n grimaces becoming permanent
you see i KNEW i had some connexion with this cat
and lemme tell ya now
this guy is driven to be petty nasty n cruel
i heard he blew up animals with fireworks
i saw him turn up to football pratice once
with a vacuum cleaner tube
beaten closed one end n bent down like a handle
he could hold on to it there
then hed drop a lighted “penny ” or 2penny banger” in
and a marble
it was like a primitive bazooka
or once i kicked him my new football
and he just walked away with it….forever
he was a gleeful bully thats fer sure
as he got older n older
i guess his tricks got nastier n grosser
he thankfully dropped outta skool
and youd occaisionally hear rumours
that he’d done this n that…
years later when i was doing the markets in sydney
peter k turned up with a guy who was playing drums
in a power pop band they were in called limazine
unable to muster much of an advertizing budget
limazine had stencilled their name in every available
bit of pavement in paddington
even over the top of dog turds
the limazine moniker was proudly emblazoned
that same afternoon
peter walks by my stall
says hello
and theres this familiar looking guy
peter tells me hes called nick ward now
fuck me gently!
i cant believe hes had the sheer cheek
to name himself after a man he hounded for years
what a gall!
anyway
im stupid
cos i
trying to forget all nigels multiple sins
and
hoping a leopard COULD change its spots
i suggest he could try out
in this band me n pete were trying to launch
to tell ya the truth
pete was one of the only guys to stand up to
and call niges bluff
(from here on in i’m gonna call him nick, ok?)
and he wasnt too affected by his savage mood swings
i think poor old nick might actually have needed something
like lithium or something(strychnine?)
the shame was there was a nice guy in there
somewhere…
but he made my life n then martys hell
right from the word go
oh he could play everything better
as you did a take
you could see him in the control room
exploding in anger n ridicule at yer rotten playing
to further complicate things he was left handed
so hed pull a guitar off you to show you how it SHOULD be done
only to realise he couldnt play it cos it was upside down
he was frustrated 100 percent of the thyme
he made me dread rehearsals
hed boss us round and throw things about
hed sink into dark silent sulks and you didnt dare talk
he hated my fucking songs and my stupid fucking lyrics
he hated our band
he hated our label
he was the expert
he was the the sound of the band
he didnt think i had what it took
and tried to organise a coup with a tour manager
ha! ha!
drummer n tour manager seize the chrunch
and do what with it exactly…?
he even had a couple of his own yes men
that hung around and said
(you guessed it!)
yes
to him
oh so many anecdotes
i mean hes a legendary figure in the church camp
not many days go past before someone mentions him
or one of his aphorisms done in that voice of his
nk said one yesterday
not even knowing what it was
just that shed heard mwp or me saying it
“more for me”
nick would say if he offered ya something
and you declined
other sayings were
“cluey clem”
thats if you were foolish
“my heart bleeds” nicks declaration of sympathy
“live and learn, live AND learn”
when someone disappointed him
in fact he had a charming tatoo
of a executioner raising a bloodied axe n asking
“next?”
nick was unpredictable with pot too
he could become real nice for ten minutes
or he could become a paranoid sociopath
one night before a gig
he smoked some pot with me n mwp n pete
he then had a “bad” night….
(werent most of em, nick?)
after his “bad” night onstage
he made me swear i would never
even if he asked for it…
never would i give him pot before a show
he threatened me and made me promise
the next night
i can still fucking see it
im standing outside this club smokin’
well away from you know who
when he finds me
gimme a smoke kilbey
says nick nicely
but ..but..nick…i stutter
you you said….
gimme a smoke i said says nick
but you said…
i said gimme a fucking smoke
ok ok
i do it
bang!
nick has another “bad” night
(he was after all a hopeless drummer)
he storms up to me afterwards
did i fuckin’ tell you to never gimme pot before i play????!!!!!
here we go again..
needless to say
i could write a book of anecdotes about this strange character
thats him doing those high vocals on ungrated momento
which is probably another reason i hate that song
we never got around to playing nicks songs
the lament of the hairy bolt
or cold steel
whatta shame…!
i bet they’d be standards by now
the other really funny thing i remember
is that nick was a real veteran road warrior
you see limazine had been to melbourne once for a few gigs
and nick knew all the ropes
you n piper ‘ll never fuckin’ make it on tour, you pansies
and he sneered n rolled up another cigarette
he constantly doubted my abilities to handle touring
and he told me so
in his colourful vernacular
youre a fucking girl
yet when we got to melbourne
it was nick who suffered an anxiety attack
and locked himself in his room
and had to be gently coaxed out
the band pleading with him to come n play
while he monosyllabically refused
from behind a locked door
jesus what a fuckin’ set-to….!
shortly afterwards
nick transgressed our golden rule
when he physically attacked mwp at a gig
it had only been a matter of time
en tidsfraga, they say in sweden
and what a fucking relief
when ploogy joined the band
and we could enjoy ourselves
without nicks constant malevolent n pathetic bullshit
and ya know what
now i know a little bit about drumming
and ive played with a few good ones
i listen back to that 1st album
wherein he made my life a misery
during the making of
telling me i couldnt sing
i couldnt write
i couldnt play bass
i shouldnt play the piano or vocoder
and now when i listen to it
and maybe while i hate that 1st record
its the drums
theyre hopeless!
he was bullying us so we’d never notice
how godawful n random his drumming was
vale nigey the bully
my heart fuckin’ bleeds!