a teenage rasputin takes a sting from a gin

good morning my darling fiendsslast nite i received some terrible news about a dear friendas i havent confirmed it yet for myselfim hoping against hope that it isnt truethat theres been a mistake…so i write todays blogge in that spirit…i first met grant mc in a bookstore in new yorkhe and amanda b and bobby f. were playing a gobetweens gig thereso on a freezing cold december n.y.c. night replete with snowi stumble into the blah blah bookshoppea real old style nyc bookshop, my little pigsnot a boreders or barnsey and knowablei stand around for a whilei dont really know a lot about the gobeesthey gotta lotta mora critical acklaim than usand i’d kinda tuned em outi’d filed em under too soft in the backa my mindanyway they come on(well…on, i mean they came out in the middle of the flooron a tiny little stage)there were about 60 people therethey were stupendousthe harmonies spot onthe acc guitars inventiveamandas fiddle incrediblethey played a few songsgrinned sheepishlyand finishedthe crowd loved emand were stunned to see something like thatplayin in a bookshop somewherelater i met emrobert was kinda statesmanlike and seemed aristocraticlooking down at me with an imperious smileamanda was nicegrant was differenthe was vulnerable, thoughtful but he loved a laugh toowe talked of this n thathe went out of his way to make me feel at easeand we both realised we could be friends easilythe next nite i saw em slay new york accousticall againjust the 3 of emif you were there in the knitting factory, nydec 1988like meyoud still be thinking about itemotions i didnt really think rock could door could do without being soppy and maudlinroberts distance and ironyhis jokes at yours n his expensegrants open childlike strange songsunashamedly australiana sensitive new age bloke with unexpected darksidesa sweet melancholy voicea […]

good morning my darling fiendss
last nite i received some terrible news about a dear friend
as i havent confirmed it yet for myself
im hoping against hope that it isnt true
that theres been a mistake…
so i write todays blogge in that spirit…
i first met grant mc in a bookstore in new york
he and amanda b and bobby f. were playing a gobetweens gig there
so on a freezing cold december n.y.c. night replete with snow
i stumble into the blah blah bookshoppe
a real old style nyc bookshop, my little pigs
not a boreders or barnsey and knowable
i stand around for a while
i dont really know a lot about the gobees
they gotta lotta mora critical acklaim than us
and i’d kinda tuned em out
i’d filed em under too soft in the backa my mind
anyway they come on
(well…on, i mean they came out in the middle of the floor
on a tiny little stage)
there were about 60 people there
they were stupendous
the harmonies spot on
the acc guitars inventive
amandas fiddle incredible
they played a few songs
grinned sheepishly
and finished
the crowd loved em
and were stunned to see something like that
playin in a bookshop somewhere
later i met em
robert was kinda statesmanlike and seemed aristocratic
looking down at me with an imperious smile
amanda was nice
grant was different
he was vulnerable, thoughtful but he loved a laugh too
we talked of this n that
he went out of his way to make me feel at ease
and we both realised we could be friends easily
the next nite i saw em slay new york accousticall again
just the 3 of em
if you were there in the knitting factory, ny
dec 1988
like me
youd still be thinking about it
emotions i didnt really think rock could do
or could do without being soppy and maudlin
roberts distance and irony
his jokes at yours n his expense
grants open childlike strange songs
unashamedly australian
a sensitive new age bloke with unexpected darksides
a sweet melancholy voice
a gentle lovely guitar style
(but with rock)
they killed nyc
i was smitten
i got all the albums immediately
couldnt believe i’d been avoiding em so long
i liked both the songwriters
(they didnae write together)
they coexisted well within the one band
(like the you know whos)
about 2 years later in 1990
i gotta call from grant
after we met atta party one night
he hadda plan for forming an aust supergroop
featuring him, me, neil f, and paul k,
we never got the others really
tho we had lunch with paul ….
so grant n i formed a pared down soopergroop
jack f
(ha)
so i go over grants place for our first writing seshh
boy o boy he operates a lot differently to me
1st of all hes got all his songs
written out in one big exercise book
that he musta had since high school
he never really let me look at it
but i guess you woulda found cattlen cane
or bye bye pride
or anything in there
i thought that was quaint
he was a strumm em out type writer
not like me..
constructing stuff in my 8 track home studio
anyway
he then proceeded to play 10 new songs to me live
each one preceded by a preamble
explaining whatta “beautiful” song it was, steven
(always called me steven,never steve)
he finished with a song about jesus called
“the man that died in rapture”
he sang this most lamenting melancholy achingly lovely song
all with his trademark off in the distance look
his eyes slightly unaligned that made him seem unfathomable
his soft voice filling up the sunroom of his bondi junction flat
so please dont forget…the man who died in rapture
i was moved and surprised
i felt like i’d seen a man bare his soul
grant finished
good lord grant that was amazing..are you a christian..
no he says
i wrote that for a competition..
eventually that day
i was allowed to pick up my 12 string
and we immediately on 1st chord
wrote didnt know where i was
off jack f.
grant seemed to have a way of opening up his mouth
and singing instant choruses
hed plucked outta the ether
words flew to him
he walk with melodies at his beck n call
we wrote a few more that day
then we started having days where we would write
20 or 30 songs inna day
all of em great
they were all on cassettes
where are they?
who knows
we werent that careful with em
we couldnt believe we could keep on writing and writing and writing
i never wrote songs like this before
me n another bloke strumming along
i rented a house in surry hills
and me n grant would just walk around strummin and writin all day
laughing because it was so easy, baybee
we did the first jack f in a studio in balmain
that was bit by bit being repossessed
cos they hadnt paid the bills
we’d be halfway thru a song
and someone would be carting the limiters away
we didnt care
we were high on our creativity and our record
it was interesting to see grant working my way
constructing songs..
if ya listen to the record
you can hear the constructed ones and the 2 guitar strum ones
grant loved a drink and a smoke
and by the end of each night he was on fine form
never drunk or boorish
but always merry and mischievous
tho sometimes hed sink into a distant melancholia
where he couldnt be reached
hed split up with miss a.b. by this stage
and a lotta those songs carry a genuine ache
that is tangible
grant n i wrote and played the whole thing together
a real 50 50 deal if ever there was one
i brought my recording techniques and song strategies
he brought his melodies and lightness
the record is a masterpiece
it did pretty good
arista even released it
and we did a short tour of the states
just acc guitars n little places
grant taught me so much about everything
he was a great guy to be on tour with
i think the audiences liked it
at the same time grant was working on watershed
which i heartily recommend
for sad lonesome songs
as well as his colloquial stuff

years later we did the second jack f
this was recorded as a band with timmy p. playing drums
a totally different record
much had changed in the between years
my little problem was now a huge gorilla
pushing me around all over the place
i wassa innercity drug hermit
grant was never as bad as me
tho he was plagued with his own daemons too
the record captures the roiling boiling turmoil
of those days
i can hardly bear to listen to it myself
its agony is apparent
but it bleeds for you
and its a great falling apart record
a la sister/lovers…
tho it wasnt a pleasant experience..
we did a little tour of aust when it came out
that would be best forgotten
grant and i sometimes popped up
at each others shows
but our connexion was gone
and we drifted apart
in 1998 i saw em play in stockholm, grant n robert
just the 2 of em
the swedes were in love with em
they were better n funnier than ever
we hung out a little
grant never seemed to eat anything!
but always the constant coffee, wine and stuyvesant ciggies
after that
years of silence
a couple of years ago
ian haug from powderfinger gave me grants number n said
you should ring him….why not?
i did
and we met up here in bondi
when he was down doing something for the new gobees record
oceans apart
he played me 2 tracks
i played him block
oh steven, its a little too….autobiographical isnt it? he winced n grinned
we went down the pavillion where i had a veggie burger n chips
grant had coffee and cigs
we talked about the gobees, a.b., jack f, all the cool dudes
and all the fucking idiots we had met in our travels
at the end of lunch grant came and picked up my kids and met nk
he caught a taxi off to his next interview
and i felt well pleased
maybe there could be 3rd jack f record after all…
one of australias most beautiful singers and writers
an amazing human being
a poet, bohemian, adventurer
raconteur and nice guy too
grant, i hope it was just a rumour…
steven

trespassers will be persecuted

kilbey here….steve kilbey….0007license to blogge7 17 on satday mornall the gurls in my little house are fast asleepwas nk’s birthday yessadaywe had cakey and stuffpresentshappy birthday dear duckling happy birthday to youme and aurora went shopping i say to aurora howcome evie didnt wanna come with us..?she says(in a jimmy stewart accent)well dad, ya know how me an evie are fraternal twins..?uh huhwell ah…ya know how we’re different on the outside..?yep!well we’re different on the inside too…i dunno why shes like thati seei aint no mind reader, dadokwe get up to the biggest shopping mall in the southern hemisfear(so they say)auroras picking up everythinghey dad buy her this!hey dad buy her that!you know fiendssi can do 2 ks in the pool no problemnot tired..but 5 minutes in a shopping malland im completely fucking knackeredwhat is it with that?i hate shoppingi hate buying stuffi hate the fluoro lights and the rushof teenyboppers armed with mummys credit cardi hate the bullshit when ya buy jeans..me: these are too smalldopey shop asst.: sir, theyll stretchme: these are too bigdsa: sir, theyll shrink..mmm, ive always hadda thing about jeansyou see there wassa kid at my schoolhe was like the dictator of fashionhe was like trip fontaine if ya saw the virgin suicidesthis kid, neal g.he wassa the bees kneeshe was handsomegood at sportgood fighterhe was smoking pot and liasing with girlswhen the rest of us were still playing marbles(i will resist the impulse for any naughty puns here)he always looked great even in school uniformtousled hair, tanned complexion, big smileoh i wanted neal g to like methink i was coolbut all i usually got was a“what are ya, kilbey?”now it may seem hard to believe but up until about 15i thought jeans were jeans were jeansbut one day i come to schooland neals talking […]

kilbey here….
steve kilbey….
0007
license to blogge
7 17 on satday morn
all the gurls in my little house are fast asleep
was nk’s birthday yessaday
we had cakey and stuff
presents
happy birthday dear duckling happy birthday to you
me and aurora went shopping
i say to aurora howcome evie didnt wanna come with us..?
she says
(in a jimmy stewart accent)
well dad, ya know how me an evie are fraternal twins..?
uh huh
well ah…ya know how we’re different on the outside..?
yep!
well we’re different on the inside too…i dunno why shes like that
i see
i aint no mind reader, dad
ok
we get up to the biggest shopping mall in the southern hemisfear
(so they say)
auroras picking up everything
hey dad buy her this!
hey dad buy her that!
you know fiendss
i can do 2 ks in the pool no problem
not tired..
but 5 minutes in a shopping mall
and im completely fucking knackered
what is it with that?
i hate shopping
i hate buying stuff
i hate the fluoro lights and the rush
of teenyboppers armed with mummys credit card
i hate the bullshit when ya buy jeans..
me: these are too small
dopey shop asst.: sir, theyll stretch
me: these are too big
dsa: sir, theyll shrink..
mmm, ive always hadda thing about jeans
you see there wassa kid at my school
he was like the dictator of fashion
he was like trip fontaine if ya saw the virgin suicides
this kid, neal g.
he wassa the bees knees
he was handsome
good at sport
good fighter
he was smoking pot and liasing with girls
when the rest of us were still playing marbles
(i will resist the impulse for any naughty puns here)
he always looked great even in school uniform
tousled hair, tanned complexion, big smile
oh i wanted neal g to like me
think i was cool
but all i usually got was a
“what are ya, kilbey?”
now it may seem hard to believe but up until about 15
i thought jeans were jeans were jeans
but one day i come to school
and neals talking about levi-strauss
ya gotta have levi-strauss
not these horrible old jeans ya been wearing
i hit up my dad
dad, i need levi-strauss
i bought you some jeans a cuppla weeks ago son
but dad, i need 1o bucks for levi-strauss
(thats what they cost in 1970)
ok ok but this is it
now sooner had i got my l-s
(which fitted me atrociously, there was no boot cut etc etc
in those days , just this jodphur looking baggy things
that hung off my skinny frame ludicrously)
then neal g says
ah kilbey, levis are last years thing
ya gotta have lee jeans
uh oh
same process
dad…?
but son…?
i know dad…but..
ok ok but this is it
wow
i get a pair of lees
(hardly much different to the l-s
but what the hell)
same thing
neal g says lee?
no mate, ya gotta have lee cooper jeans
what?
dad?
yes son…
please…?
ok but this is it
ok, dad
by the way son, who tells you whats in and whats out?
never mind dad, ya wouldnae understand
ok ok heres 15 bucks…
so i get me a pair of pink lee cooper cords
but lo n behold
neal g the fashionista
wrangler are the only hip jeans
oh no
dad?
yes son
blah blah blah
ok
got me a pair of wrangler jeans
phew
im sorted
school social
got my wranglers
hip and cool
but whats this…?
oh no
a new boy at our school
has the last word in hip
a pair of bearcat jeans
fucking bearcat?
my wranglers are instantly passe
im a fashion disaster
next day i try to find a pair of bearcats
not in canberra i dont
after a little research i find out
you can only buy bearcat jeans in one shop in australia
and its in melbourne 600 miles away
and
they cost 22 bucks a pair
unheard of in those days
dad?
yes slim
(my dad always called me slim
i dunno why but he thought it was funny)
why dont we visit the rellies in melbourne?
you want to?
wow
i nagged my dad into driving to melb
ostensibly to visit uncle cyril and aunty eve
(who i named my daughter after)
when we get there
i track down the shop
borrow 22 bucks from my poor dad
and get down there
they only got one pair thatll fit me
a little on the smallish side
“nah, theyll never shrink
theyre pre shrunk !”
says shop asst.
get back to canberra
teenage dance soon
i’ll be unveiling my bearcats
how can anyone out trump me now
but
(you knew thered be a but)
joycie gives em a good wash for me
before the dance
oh no!
when i try em on
theyve shrunk half way up my leg
miserably i wear them anyway
hoping no one ll notice
but they do
“hey kilbey
why dont yer shoes have a party and
invite yer pants down ???”

oh the shame
oh the embarrassment
eventually i cut em off for shorts

these are the events that shaped my life
i love you fiendss
(pssst. wanna pair of cut off bearcat jeanss??)
sk

the instant the transfer hits your account, and its deep in the black and just one way out

losing face with yer data basewhat does that mean…?hmmm..sometimes i catch myself saying the darndest thingswhen i say this world and human society are absurdi say it not from a position of superioritybut of wonder…..mornings that come in the futurefinding that im now absentgone from our planssidetracks leading here n thereoh i just spent a decade up this petered out dead endi was looking for somethingthat was so important thenbut now seems so very hard to rememberwhy i thought it all meant so muchall things put together must come apartthat is a law of this universedont come crying to me anymoreby the time i return youll probably be goneits a revolving door, aint it?struggle all ya likeits surrender that you needoohh sweet surrenderlike learning to swimyou gotta trust that water to hold ya upif you dont believe, down you goto davy jones and mike nesmiths lockerare you still with me here, fiendgive inits all overbelieve in the waterbelieve in yerselfforget yerself toothats rightthats what i saidget togetherbake some breaddo what you likethats what i saidmaybe impressionism will help…….insert own ism herein those future morningsreplete with soft filtered sunlightin the observatorythe gardens in the distancefortunate sonsbut i digress… who was that person i saw you with?the one in the cloak o invisibility and the ten league bootsthe reason i ask is this:one hundred years ago in a distant landquite close to herethere lived a man who dreamed that he was in a storytyped onto a computer in the year dotif that could have had futuristic jollies attachedbut nay, little pigalas, this was not the case.presently along came sir dennis swyne-botta big wigANDa vipANDa 4 wheel drive w/ own carpark(on top of sacred ground, natch)he immediately timelined a great scenariowhich was lifestyle-enhancing and $$$friendlyas well as serene and convenientwhich involved one years […]

losing face with yer data base
what does that mean…?
hmmm..
sometimes i catch myself saying the darndest things
when i say this world and human society are absurd
i say it not from a position of superiority
but of wonder…..
mornings that come in the future
finding that im now absent
gone from our plans
sidetracks leading here n there
oh i just spent a decade up this petered out dead end
i was looking for something
that was so important then
but now seems so very hard to remember
why i thought it all meant so much
all things put together must come apart
that is a law of this universe
dont come crying to me anymore
by the time i return youll probably be gone
its a revolving door, aint it?
struggle all ya like
its surrender that you need
oohh sweet surrender
like learning to swim
you gotta trust that water to hold ya up
if you dont believe, down you go
to davy jones and mike nesmiths locker
are you still with me here, fiend
give in
its all over
believe in the water
believe in yerself
forget yerself too
thats right
thats what i said
get together
bake some bread
do what you like
thats what i said
maybe impressionism will help…….
insert own ism here
in those future mornings
replete with soft filtered sunlight
in the observatory
the gardens in the distance
fortunate sons
but i digress…

who was that person i saw you with?
the one in the cloak o invisibility and the ten league boots
the reason i ask is this:
one hundred years ago in a distant land
quite close to here
there lived a man
who dreamed that he was in a story
typed onto a computer in the year dot
if that could have had futuristic jollies attached
but nay, little pig
alas, this was not the case.
presently along came sir dennis swyne-bott
a big wig
AND
a vip
AND
a 4 wheel drive w/ own carpark
(on top of sacred ground, natch)
he immediately timelined a great scenario
which was lifestyle-enhancing and $$$friendly
as well as serene and convenient
which involved one years free trial offer
and a broken digital camera
“it doesnt work” said sir dennis’ secretary
as you scramble for a piece
an online dating service redirects you to an abandoned warehouse
on the outskirts of town
from here you can see for miles and miles
you blow the dust from the furniture
light a cigarette
hand on gun
billy franklin appears
and he wastes ya!
you go under screaming
you cant believe this is the end
franklin stands over ya grinning
blowing the smoke from his gun like a cowbouy
death is indescribible
what did you expect?
swyne-bott was behind it all, all along
the monopoly owns us all
the ship pulls out
the portal closes
cue music
film by the cchhru
the end

hour farther witch art in heaven

1st of allwhy aint this goode blogge ever in the bloggs of note column?ya see if ya come in the way i dovia the blogger.com/start thingytheres like a chartblogs o noteive never been on therewhywhy?WHY?theres always a readymade index to measure yerselfin the shiny bums you had your rankim a 5 4th divisionim a 8 3rd divisionhes a 1 in the second divisionin the musick bizz you got yer chartsand nowyer got yer blogchartblogs of noteand just like all those other indicesi never ratei want a position!i wanna be on that ladder getting a ratingi want my transactions approved by my financial institutioni want my name in the booki wanna appear on a listi want honoursknighthoods(cmon if jagger why not mee?)i wanna weild my influenceshow my cloutmuscle inhave my # on the V I Ps speed diali deserve this muchdont i?god…….maybe i dont…maybe i am just an obscure needle in the haystackpricking against the kicksmaybe no one caresmaybe its just russell pretending to make all the commentsand fudging mah ratings to make it seem likesomebodies out there……god….what if….i…am aloneraving to myself here day after dayall this love i put into my bloggeand no one….nothing…..no body…never anyway to my hypothetical fiendssi been thinkin about art latelyart n entertainmentthe differencewhy john lennon makes me wanna cryand why robbie willy-ams makes me wanna cryand why henri rousseau makes me laughand why the turkey that won last years big portrait prizemakes me wanna laugh toowhy do i so vehemently hate entertainmentspecially anything to do with u.s. sitcomcopsnrobbers(and ya know what ..? some of the pommy copsnrobbersis worse than the yankee drivel)why do we wanna see shows about imaginary policeapprehending imaginary villains over n over againi dont see anything interesting in robbery murder etcor the workings of police forceid rather watch a show about carpenters […]

1st of all
why aint this goode blogge ever in the bloggs of note column?
ya see if ya come in the way i do
via the blogger.com/start thingy
theres like a chart
blogs o note
ive never been on there
why
why?
WHY?
theres always a readymade index to measure yerself
in the shiny bums you had your rank
im a 5 4th division
im a 8 3rd division
hes a 1 in the second division
in the musick bizz you got yer charts
and now
yer got yer blogchart
blogs of note
and just like all those other indices
i never rate
i want a position!
i wanna be on that ladder
getting a rating
i want my transactions approved by my financial institution
i want my name in the book
i wanna appear on a list
i want honours
knighthoods
(cmon if jagger why not mee?)
i wanna weild my influence
show my clout
muscle in
have my # on the V I Ps speed dial
i deserve this much
dont i?
god…….
maybe i dont…
maybe i am just an obscure needle in the haystack
pricking against the kicks
maybe no one cares
maybe its just russell pretending to make all the comments
and fudging mah ratings to make it seem like
somebodies out there……
god….
what if….
i…
am alone
raving to myself here day after day
all this love i put into my blogge
and no one….
nothing…..
no body…
never

anyway to my hypothetical fiendss
i been thinkin about art lately
art n entertainment
the difference
why john lennon makes me wanna cry
and why robbie willy-ams makes me wanna cry
and why henri rousseau makes me laugh
and why the turkey that won last years big portrait prize
makes me wanna laugh too
why do i so vehemently hate entertainment
specially anything to do with u.s. sitcom
copsnrobbers
(and ya know what ..? some of the pommy copsnrobbers
is worse than the yankee drivel)
why do we wanna see shows about imaginary police
apprehending imaginary villains over n over again
i dont see anything interesting in robbery murder etc
or the workings of police force
id rather watch a show about carpenters actually…
i hate oprah wind-free type shows…dr fill..all that
jarry schpringer
i wanna kill myself after five minutes of that
csi…gory morbid rubbish
they even gotta live with the coroner show
dissecting bodies..
oh we can tell by the swelling of the thorax that….
no fucking thanks
and they say the church is depressing
ah…
now herein is the difference
we make you sad to make you happy
but the other stuff just makes ya sad. period.
actually not sad, but disturbed and down
but no reward
thats entertainment folks
now art can entertain
and (seldom) ent can contain art
but its the intention
i am trying to connect with my audience
something that cant be said
something that is taking a long long time to say
a work in progress
a message never completed
maybe it sometimes entertains ya
i hope so
but thats a bonus
but fuckin entertainment
look what they did with “troy”
whaddya call that?
all that money
all that potential
but they didnt honour the art
they just tried to extract the entertainment outta it
what they saw as the active ingredients
and ya know what
people gonna read the illiad as long as there are people
left to read
but troy is already sitting glumly
on the reduced shelf in woolworths
they didnt honour the art!

sometimes art is a gambit
like seance
the hoi polloi didnae much care for it in 82
but its gone on
attracting new listeners over the long years
being a small part of a body of work
it was a sacrifice for the future
whereas something like troy
thats jus’ gettem in
gettem out
next!
whys it gotta bee that way
lemme make a fucking film
i’ll show em
we’re tired of the tedious tripe yer doling out, hollywould
yer a joke
you never suspend my disbelief
sack jennifer aniston now
shes hopeless
all those ashton kultures
all that crowd
yeah you know who i mean
the ones in the gossip rags
hiltin’
crooze
kidd-manne
cathy z jones
i dunno all their fucking names
they are anathema
get some extraordinary stories
get some strange
get some fuckin weird n wonderful stuff
jesus the guy who made tarnation did all that on i-movie
how come the hollywould turkeys cant do stuff like that
with all their billions
they aint gotta clue
all they think they know is bums on seats
thats entertainment for ya
like chewing bubble gum
nice flavour for a cuppla minutes
then they all taste the same
and if ya keep going
ya get sick n tired of it fast
blah blah blah kilbee
ya preaching to the con-verted again
so what
i dunno
boycott their rubbish
refuse to have it pollute yer mind
you have the choice i guess
you dont have to watch that stuff
i love you
sk

imagine no possessions…..no need for exorcists

as you can tell was watching johnny lennon last a nighton the old pox box via a dvdhard to get a fix on that manthe songs he wrote….jesus, i meani look at a lotta songwritersmost of em ya can sorta figure out how they did itbut with lennon..how the hell would he have written strawberry fields in 1966even after 40 years this song leaves me bewilderedas he wrote it he opened up a huge new categorya new way to rocka way of incorporating ironyweariness surrealismexistentialismdistancedetachmenthope and hopelessnessand believe me folksthere wasnt any o that in rock before lennonstrawberry fieldswalrusjulia#9 dreaminstant karmacome togetheracross the universel i t s w dwho knows how he did itnot mei dont care who you comin’ fromtthis stuff is the creme de la cremeof what ya can do within rockdark beautythe invocation of another stateanother way to see thingsgoodbye 1950s hegemony narrow suitntieshortbacknsidesmomsapplepiethese songs demolished that paradigms abilityto say “this is all there is”with a songwith a pop song…!everything on strawberry fieldsthe stringsthe mellotron flutesthe guitarsthe indian instrumentsits an introduction to the 5 million other pointsa viewother than cold war pleasantvilleit was anathema to the “straights” who weregoing along on the beatles thing“oh yeah…those lovable moptops…”but come rain on the b side of pback writerand then fields itselfall the mums n dads jumped off the bandwagon“dont know why they had to go all strange….”because strange is what we need grandmain strangeness lies individualitybecause this humdrum mundane world is an illusiongot some people sucked inand a song like this is an invitationto open the door to that 99% of yerselfwhere you never been or even knew was therean artistic form of shocki tell ya s fields sounded like it was being beamed infrom another groovy world in 1966a place where maths n headmasters n workseemed ridiculousthe rah […]

as you can tell was watching johnny lennon last a night
on the old pox box via a dvd
hard to get a fix on that man
the songs he wrote….
jesus, i mean
i look at a lotta songwriters
most of em ya can sorta figure out how they did it
but with lennon..
how the hell would he have written strawberry fields in 1966
even after 40 years this song leaves me bewildered
as he wrote it he opened up a huge new category
a new way to rock
a way of incorporating irony
weariness
surrealism
existentialism
distance
detachment
hope and hopelessness
and believe me folks
there wasnt any o that in rock before lennon
strawberry fields
walrus
julia
#9 dream
instant karma
come together
across the universe
l i t s w d
who knows how he did it
not me
i dont care who you comin’ from
tthis stuff is the creme de la creme
of what ya can do within rock
dark beauty
the invocation of another state
another way to see things
goodbye 1950s hegemony narrow suitntie
shortbacknsides
momsapplepie
these songs demolished that paradigms ability
to say “this is all there is”
with a song
with a pop song…!
everything on strawberry fields
the strings
the mellotron flutes
the guitars
the indian instruments
its an introduction to the 5 million other pointsa view
other than cold war pleasantville
it was anathema to the “straights” who were
going along on the beatles thing
“oh yeah…those lovable moptops…”
but come rain on the b side of pback writer
and then fields itself
all the mums n dads jumped off the bandwagon
“dont know why they had to go all strange….”
because strange is what we need grandma
in strangeness lies individuality
because this humdrum mundane world is an illusion
got some people sucked in
and a song like this is an invitation
to open the door to that 99% of yerself
where you never been or even knew was there
an artistic form of shock
i tell ya s fields sounded like it was being beamed in
from another groovy world
in 1966
a place where maths n headmasters n work
seemed ridiculous
the rah rah rah of the rugger buggers
the bullying
the jockeying
the pressure to BE SOMEONE
make money
cope with the system
john lennon offered a glimpse of an alternative

i guess at some points it all went to his head
but who could judge a success on that scale
he put up with a lotta shit when he fell from grace
his life was routinely threatened
his wife was ridiculed and abused
he was fucking hounded by the fbi n cia
thats how powerful a threat his songs were
the “straights” turned on him
and they got him good
but he aint the first artist thats happened to
nor will he be the last
the gossip rags are turning it into an artform themselves
be all that as it may
i pay homage to the man
somewhere on a level with bob dylan
as to guys who created the framework
that all us other rock writers work within
but they can never be equalled
because they came first
with no precedents
and
that is rocks tragedy inna way
and that is why all those english rock mags
are always dylan lennon beatles stones
because an argument lennon had with his chauffer
is more interesting by far
than an interview with jack rockstar whos album
is number one this week
we all labour in these giants footsteps
thats just the way it is
you cant get bigger or better than those guys
thats a built in assumption
thats why it was all so silly with oasis
i mean
C’MON!!!
whats the point in pretending….
the gallaghers aint the beatles
they couldnt be

i still believe your number one saving grace is originality…..
to see if you can bend it
not reproduce it…
thats how the the big guys got big in the 1st place
anyway
i got bloggers cramp
adios, mein amigos

the nascent garden of christian wolf

dont be alarmedthe things you see cant hurt you anymorethey are only potentialthey only exist here on this little screenyouve been running and runningbut youve realised that we are all oneand thereforeyou were always running from yourselfand wherever you wentthere you werelike someone trying to see themselvesin a mirroror in a dreamor boththings getting bigger and shrinkingphotowaves of disortionsubcuticular undulationmethodology suspectin this caseabbreviated time necessary leftcramah….thats betterimproving fluid days of lovetry witch hazel or yohimbeenter your bath humming straussshave your self and think smooth precise aqua glidetake down the chinese white towelwater evaporates like timecomb your hairchange your mindcomplete the circleabandon hopeout the doorthe traffic in west ken grinds to a haltshoulda taken the tubeshoulda been born a million years into the futurebut youd still run outta and over timechristan wolf is waiting at the airportthe plane is in the hangarvirgo is risingwolf takes your luggage silentlyhis car is warm and aromaticultc plays on the stereoits spring, nearly summerthe countryside is superbtheres virtually nothing to worry about the poem has already left the building

dont be alarmed
the things you see cant hurt you anymore
they are only potential
they only exist here on this little screen
youve been running and running
but youve realised that we are all one
and therefore
you were always running from yourself
and wherever you went
there you were
like someone trying to see themselves
in a mirror
or in a dream
or both
things getting bigger and shrinking
photowaves of disortion
subcuticular undulation
methodology suspect
in this case
abbreviated time necessary left
cram
ah….thats better
improving fluid days of love
try witch hazel or yohimbe
enter your bath humming strauss
shave your self and think smooth precise aqua glide
take down the chinese white towel
water evaporates like time
comb your hair
change your mind
complete the circle
abandon hope
out the door
the traffic in west ken grinds to a halt
shoulda taken the tube
shoulda been born a million years into the future
but youd still run outta and over time
christan wolf is waiting at the airport
the plane is in the hangar
virgo is rising
wolf takes your luggage silently
his car is warm and aromatic
ultc plays on the stereo
its spring, nearly summer
the countryside is superb
theres virtually nothing to worry about

the poem has already left the building

this aint a blogg…. its a poem

the mechanistic universe stops short of explanationdumbfoundedlost for worldstoo tired to sleepwandering down the corridorsstarecasesat night starting up from its bedbad dreams i couldnt explainthe stars themselvesthe sun and everything dances round thisall held upinvisible handssome understand nothingwhen they are rightits for the wrong reasonwhite hot sword angel outside edenkeeping their prisoners outmiles and miles of starburnbranded on the hide of the nightthe worms will waitthrow off that flesh n bloodweary travellers arrivethree wise guysgoldman,frankenstein and moorethere are no compartments hereeverything is on the floorno one knows anyoneits such a botherits a short cut thru Infernoits an all ghoul groupjenny taylor and the space needleslove missile f-1 11sh sh shoot it upwartorn sydney now bridgelessthe free world is now chargingyou gotta subscribeyou gotta join the clubpositions are available for the following positionsmavericksnovices (with experience)pets(no pets)seventh daughters of seventh daughtersinquisitors(should like people)slaughterers(should like animals)geniuses(should be cute)slaves(good super!!!)serfs in the netassorted non specificssend in your application by the silvery moonuse ink made from your tearsworship steel and glassdig deep in the earthhoard up the loveboard up the windowshut down the skyroll back the daysenter oblivionpass thru its outskirtsdodge the flakanticipate their movementstelecommunicate with me then!random ninja stabsuzuki cars n guitarsall memories come onshow all memoriesmaximise picturepost it upsend it outdo it uphit it uppick it upput it downjust like thatquick like thatand like thislike this stuffwant some moremake you thinkmake you dreammakes you wonderthe next day was preceded by a perfect pink dawni got up in timei saw myself still asleepi was across the roadasleep in the graveyardi was in a hotel excelsiorin scandanaviait was snowingi thought this was in tasmania that time says les kno dad you see ive mixed em up …its okthis is a poem….in the perfect pink dawnthe ripped out place where the sky wasleaks red star bloodi […]

the mechanistic universe stops short of explanation
dumbfounded
lost for worlds
too tired to sleep
wandering down the corridors
starecases
at night starting up from its bed
bad dreams i couldnt explain
the stars themselves
the sun and everything dances round this
all held up
invisible hands
some understand nothing
when they are right
its for the wrong reason
white hot sword angel outside eden
keeping their prisoners out
miles and miles of starburn
branded on the hide of the night
the worms will wait
throw off that flesh n blood
weary travellers arrive
three wise guys
goldman,frankenstein and moore
there are no compartments here
everything is on the floor
no one knows anyone
its such a bother
its a short cut thru Inferno
its an all ghoul group
jenny taylor and the space needles
love missile f-1 11
sh sh shoot it up
wartorn sydney now bridgeless
the free world is now charging
you gotta subscribe
you gotta join the club
positions are available for the following positions
mavericks
novices (with experience)
pets(no pets)
seventh daughters of seventh daughters
inquisitors(should like people)
slaughterers(should like animals)
geniuses(should be cute)
slaves(good super!!!)
serfs in the net
assorted non specifics
send in your application by the silvery moon
use ink made from your tears
worship steel and glass
dig deep in the earth
hoard up the love
board up the window
shut down the sky
roll back the days
enter oblivion
pass thru its outskirts
dodge the flak
anticipate their movements
telecommunicate with me then!
random ninja stab
suzuki cars n guitars
all memories come on
show all memories
maximise picture
post it up
send it out
do it up
hit it up
pick it up
put it down
just like that
quick like that
and like this
like this stuff
want some more
make you think
make you dream
makes you wonder
the next day was preceded by a perfect pink dawn
i got up in time
i saw myself still asleep
i was across the road
asleep in the graveyard
i was in a hotel excelsior
in scandanavia
it was snowing
i thought this was in tasmania that time says les k
no dad you see ive mixed em up …its ok
this is a poem….
in the perfect pink dawn
the ripped out place where the sky was
leaks red star blood
i am awake early
i see myself as i was sleeping
i never dream this
its the pink dawn
all perfect except for the starblood
but at least
i am awake early
not sleeping or dreaming
across the road
where the sad vases of flowers are
where the angels are among the grass and tears
in the dawn
i awoke
it was pink
perfect
the birds were falling out of the sky
i mean, that was sad but….
at least i was awake
writing poetry in the dawn
in red letters on the skys empty hole
in tattered roman java script that oozed away
and wrote songs for itself to sing
a song that sang itself
the song was called
“who do i fuck to get my virginity back?
who do i see about my blindness?”
it was number one ooohhh for weeks n weeks
i heard that i wrote it
but i also just wrote that i only heard it
its all complicated isnt it
be much simpler when we get there
i’ll explain to ya
when we arrived

furthermore

oh you lovely fiendssits monday1st of mayisnt there a song“when we were smalland christmas trees were tallblah blah blah blah the 1st of may”by the bee gees?gee ya gotta be ancient to remember that one…..and isnt it when the “workers” march in europei guess i dont qualify for that one thenwhen do the “loafers” march…?well we wont march thowe’ll amblewe’ll strollwe’ll fucking take our good time been havin a lovely few daysrpk n mikey h came round for din dins satday nitenk (being an american) cooked up vegan chilli n tacos n guacorpk enjoyed it, didnt ya?must be that mexican blood on yer aunty lous side…then sunday morning we all go for a surfdown the norf endwhere there having an iron man racecomplete with sausage sizzle(aurora “its so disgustin”)and a aussie wally on the pa systemblasting all over the beachin accents that make kath n kimsound like the queen“here comes bluey hobbs, whatta good lil runnahcmon give im a big cheer, just behind wazza dickson…etc etc”blasting my tinitus with his nasal nonsensewhen i just wanted a swimevie n aurora play the usual gameof jump on daddys back n drown himas i try to body surfafter lunchywe all go down another park and play kubbcomplete with a persistent little boywho keeps running over and kicking our stuff downi dont say anything and just stick it back upon the third or fourth time he runs over againour eyes lockand we have a battle of willsjesus hes so determined to ruin our gamebut hes only about 3males just got this thing for trouble n strife i guessfinally he retreats after ive given him my sternesti wouldnae do that agaain, sonny jim lookand we continue our gameoh such a beautiful park we play inwith its groves of figs palms n oakssecluded n shadywe are […]

oh you lovely fiendss
its monday
1st of may
isnt there a song
“when we were small
and christmas trees were tall
blah blah blah blah the 1st of may”
by the bee gees?
gee ya gotta be ancient to remember that one…..
and isnt it when the “workers” march in europe
i guess i dont qualify for that one then
when do the “loafers” march…?
well we wont march tho
we’ll amble
we’ll stroll
we’ll fucking take our good time

been havin a lovely few days
rpk n mikey h came round for din dins satday nite
nk (being an american) cooked up vegan chilli n tacos n guaco
rpk enjoyed it, didnt ya?
must be that mexican blood on yer aunty lous side…
then sunday morning we all go for a surf
down the norf end
where there having an iron man race
complete with sausage sizzle
(aurora “its so disgustin”)
and a aussie wally on the pa system
blasting all over the beach
in accents that make kath n kim
sound like the queen
“here comes bluey hobbs, whatta good lil runnah
cmon give im a big cheer, just behind wazza dickson…etc etc”
blasting my tinitus with his nasal nonsense
when i just wanted a swim
evie n aurora play the usual game
of jump on daddys back n drown him
as i try to body surf
after lunchy
we all go down another park and play kubb
complete with a persistent little boy
who keeps running over and kicking our stuff down
i dont say anything and just stick it back up
on the third or fourth time he runs over again
our eyes lock
and we have a battle of wills
jesus hes so determined to ruin our game
but hes only about 3
males just got this thing for trouble n strife i guess
finally he retreats after ive given him my sternest
i wouldnae do that agaain, sonny jim look
and we continue our game
oh such a beautiful park we play in
with its groves of figs palms n oaks
secluded n shady
we are very lucky to enjoy these things
and i wish everyone in the ye olde worlde
coulda hadda nice day with the fam like i did
but sadly most people in this world
were probably scramblin’ just to eat or drink
so we must always appreciate our good fortune
cos it dont always last forever..
tonite i play at the starfish club (no relation)
with jon z, david l n hamish s
its gonna be loverly i hope
nothing like my shambolic newt town giggle
this will be the bees knees
so be there
or be square
but im gonna be doing jazz odyssey fer sure…
marty has left oz to put the finishing touches
on our little euro tour
and i already miss his “steve?”
as he rings me up to hear about my latest
self inflicted catastrophe
man us 2 have been thru some upsa n downsa together
so many adventures, triumphs, arguments, disappointments etc
thru thick n thin
we been there with each other
mwp you are a gentleman and a scallop
not a badde guitar twanger neither
a very funky bass player
AND
a powerful n virile drummer
(hes not that great on crumplehorn tho)
i am surrounded by great musicians and technicians
imagine the sliding scale from fernando n rock round the clock
and playin with jonny z or peter k
or workin with simon p
these guys are the best there is
and its like the difference between a horsen cart
or an e type jag
the good players make it so easy for ya
so easy on the ears
and they make it look easy too
peter k looks like hes putting hardly any effort in
yet theres a huge wall of sound flowing from his fingers
a gentleman player, he is….no sweat.
mwp is the opposite
he cant help himself
i guess im somewhere in the middle of them…
(of course)
blog blog blog
blah blah blah
what else…?
i dunno
last day of hols for the doodle gurlss
back to school tomorrow
back to the human sausage factory
what can you do?
look what it did to me….
ah it aint so badde
its a lot less draconian now…
i used to get whacked on the back of the knee
with the stick end of a feather duster when i was six
boy did that hurt..
and then in high school the cane!!!
ooooh fiendss…thatsa weird pain
right down yer arm into yer spine
like getting kicked in the balls
nasty stuff ladies
but always a good last resort
if no aint meaning no
if ya know what i mean
bloody men
theyve ruined this world
if only the women were more in charge…
the women who they get now
are just surrogate men inna mans world
condo leaser rice etc
maggie thatcha
theyre not real women

talking of which
(ha!)
saw a doco on the witch trials lassa nite
i said to nk before we watch
this is gonna make us angry
and it did
midwives
healers
old ladies with a bit of herbal knowledge
young girls
anyone
tortured n burnt
by the sick woman hating fucking church
up to its eyeballs
in blood
debauchery
corruption
and anything else ya can think of
the helplessness of the victims
their innocence
the barbaric trials
dip ya in water
if ya drown…ya innocent
if ya dont..ya burn!!
not really my idea of justice, fienddss
whoever gave these sick n twisted little bastards
the power to run around burning women
quoting JC to justify their outrage
beelzebub has a devil put aside for thee

so please dont be disappointed
if im not so jazzed on the catholic church
i reckon theyd do it all over again if they only still had the power
power corrupts
people get power
they wanna use it
you give someone power of life n death
sure enuff
sooner or later
he gonna use it
and its always the worst ones who take it
look at em
hitler
napoleon
the kings n queens of europe
the kaiser
stalin
the bushs
howard
blair
weak cowardly turkeys
who never stand in the line of fire themselves
but can always dream up a reason why you should
if bushs twin daughters were called up in the army
and were gonna be sent to iraq
you reckon he woulda been so eager?
no
i reckon hed be calling for patience
“oh ah…lets wait a little longer, no hurry…”

anyway
theres my rant for today
cut it
collect the whole set
remember me
when they put me away for sedition
i love ya
sk

no courtesan could begin to decipher your beam of light

gorgeous late autumn sunday morningi sit at my kitchen tablewith aurora justine kshes drawing flowers n fairieswith the doodles new glittery pens(im having a bit of a fiddle with em myself)the air is crisp but not at all coldaustralian birds sing outside in the different gums n palmscompared to dry old cold canberrabondi is a tropical paradisered n orange n crimson hibisciwhite frangipanis the most aromatic flowersones with slight pale yellowor rosy whorls becoming maroon near the edgesthousands of flowers i couldnt namea passionfruit tree with pink autumnal blossoms and the strange mixture of treesthe figsthe ghost gumsoakstwisted strange native treespaperbarksscribbly barksits all stillsilentexcept for enos on landwhich is playing softly on the kitchen counteri can see evie lying in her bedlooking at the ceilingletting her mind roam with miraculous freedom that only children and madmen and geniuses understandits funny with twinsthey usually do their imaginings togetherme….ii lived in world i had sculpted and formedin a crowded part of my mindit was made ofplaying cards(to me the diamonds and clubs were the good guysjust check out the jacks…the hearts and spades, those jacks,they look like cads n ne’er do wellsblackguardswhile the ds n cstheir jacks (princes..?)were sensitive kind and usually withoutthe horrible little moustaches…then as i am talking about cardsi think who or what do the aces represent?hmmm…well…theyre higher than kingsbut are also sometimes the lowest….the onethey represent the point where absolute powereither coagulates into the all powerful ONEor devolves into the singular lonely onethey are the linkwhere communism meets fascismwhere beauty n ugliness collidethe interzonethe apexand the nadirconsider this fiendssand look at the cards next time you playinghmmm most blokes i knowwould laugh if ya asked em to play monopolyor even draughtschessbut cardsahhlotta people love the cardsi doim fascinated with emand five hundred is my favourite gamebut i can […]

gorgeous late autumn sunday morning
i sit at my kitchen table
with aurora justine k
shes drawing flowers n fairies
with the doodles new glittery pens
(im having a bit of a fiddle with em myself)
the air is crisp but not at all cold
australian birds sing outside in the different gums n palms
compared to dry old cold canberra
bondi is a tropical paradise
red n orange n crimson hibisci
white frangipanis the most aromatic flowers
ones with slight pale yellow
or rosy whorls becoming maroon near the edges
thousands of flowers i couldnt name
a passionfruit tree with pink autumnal blossoms
and the strange mixture of trees
the figs
the ghost gums
oaks
twisted strange native trees
paperbarks
scribbly barks
its all still
silent
except for enos on land
which is playing softly on the kitchen counter
i can see evie lying in her bed
looking at the ceiling
letting her mind roam with miraculous freedom
that only children and madmen and geniuses understand
its funny with twins
they usually do their imaginings together
me….ii lived in world i had sculpted and formed
in a crowded part of my mind
it was made of
playing cards
(to me the diamonds and clubs were the good guys
just check out the jacks…
the hearts and spades, those jacks,
they look like cads n ne’er do wells
blackguards
while the ds n cs
their jacks (princes..?)
were sensitive kind and usually without
the horrible little moustaches…
then as i am talking about cards
i think who or what do the aces represent?
hmmm…well…
theyre higher than kings
but are also sometimes the lowest….the one
they represent the point where absolute power
either coagulates into the all powerful ONE
or devolves into the singular lonely one
they are the link
where communism meets fascism
where beauty n ugliness collide
the interzone
the apex
and the nadir
consider this fiendss
and look at the cards next time you playing
hmmm most blokes i know
would laugh if ya asked em to play monopoly
or even draughts
chess
but cards
ahh
lotta people love the cards
i do
im fascinated with em
and five hundred is my favourite game
but i can turn into the sinner when i play…
)
other things that informed my daydream
were marbles
(once again joycies spatial clout came in handy)
but although i was good
i was never the best
and i lost lotsa marbles
i had a personal relationship with
(a white one with a yellow ring round the centre)
we played “follows” in nsw
where you just shoot for the other guy
catch as catch can
in victoria we played big ring n little ring
where you shoot the other guys marbles outta a circle
but without your shooter getting caught in the circle
except i think in big ring you wanted to get in..
in the a.c.t it was holey
and only holey
this was my favourite game
and the one that got me totally hooked
its a form of gambling
i justa realized that
youre staking something you love
something that is intrinsically worth something to ya
and when you lose
ah…the sick despair
the bruised ego
the struggle to smile
or say something
the need to repress the shout
“you bloody cheat!!
all the bad chemicals that come with losing..
losing anything
money
yer lover
or marbles…
but the winning
mmmm
oooh lovely ego rush crush acquire
to defeat your rival
collect his booty
“kilbey, youve cleaned me out”
moaned a hapless boy in my back garden in canberra
we had a perfect back garden for holey, baybee
rocky sandy soil grass all terrains are us
you dig a hole
you say how many yer wagering
“how many up, kilbey?)
“ten up, mate
“ten….no way, im only playing for 5”
then youd say
no pots or grannies
this meant that the other player could not invoke
any arcane rules
to get himself outta a jam
it was a clean game
then youd get to the nominated distance from the hole
start shooting
(theyre was even a special and the only legal way
to shoot and that was to flick with the hand laid flat
alongside the marble and catching the forefinger
under the middle finger
you lightly flick
now the strength and subtlety of yer flick
was the very essence of the game
like golf or pool
except in those games the balls represent something
but are nae of importance of themselves
in marbles the balls are the prize and the wager
what an amazing twist
anyway in holey you won
by sinking the last marble
that means when theyre all in the whole bar one
if you have a go at sinking the last one
and you just miss
then youre opponent can easily sink it
and win the lot
so theyre was a very elaborate endgame
trying to have potshots at the hole
but hard
so if ya missed it would go off away from the hole
of course sometimes it went in the hole n bounced back out
sometimes it would go round n round the hole
and roll back out
sitting right on the rim
where the other kid could just tip it in
and your heart would sink right thru yer boots
yeah i cleaned em out
and they cleaned me out
and it was like going bankrupt
you hadda hit yer parents up
to buy some loathesome new marbles
now theres another thing
the beautiful rare n valuable marbles
you could never buy em
they were in circulation
but you hadda win em
ya couldnt buy em
all you could buy were these dull common “guts stickers”
average green flecked things
sometimes if you wanted an americano
or a tom bowler
or a bottler
ya hadda stake a number of the gutstickers
so getting wiped out was tragic
and addictive
wow
marbles my first addiction
anyway now im outta time
i love ya
sk

no hot ashes or liquid

i am ether piratei am copping this airspace for nothingho ho hohow long before im cut off…?this is my 3rd attempt at blogging this morning, fiendiesstwice already todayi have lost the lotif i go off the air againim just gonna cry anywayreceived glenny benny from the undiesnew lp yessadaystarstudded line up, ladies n gentlemenstephen cummograntley maclennonadalita from magic dirt( nice one!!)sarah blaskoangie hartgianna lee from andromedaphillipa nihill from the undersbut the whole thing holds togetherin one continuumevery other singers done a lovely jobon their trackbennies music remains superbjust like the curchhhes getting better n betterhe is himself and no otherhe picks up his giutar or synthand he is gband being yourself is no meen feetthats the hardest thing to doto turn into yerselfi wasnt myself for ageslike a pot of cold milk oats salt n sugari was just sullenly floating aboutjust a bunch of influences n ideasi didnae even notice it at firstbut one day i guess i turned on my old 4 trackand out stepped skan instant geeniuslike athene falling formed from zeus headthere i was me, at lastall the olde skin shedi had my own take on iti had my own spini wanted to includetrexbobdylandylan thomasbowiebeatlesstonespatti smiffv. undiegroundbe bop deluxethe doctors of madnesstwilight zonesci fict n fantrimbaudsurrealismimpressionismfuturismall of that and morei threw into the process which created mean ya know what fiendssi aint influenced bynor do i wanna be like any o the followingremu2coldplaythe byrds( well, very little)echo and the bmengrungeemorapdiscocountry n westinnone of thoseif ya read a revueand it mentions any thing on the a listya know they got it rightanything on the b list they getting it wrongwe are nothing to do with the 80sanymore than you arewe lived thru it just like you all didthats itif you wanna bark up the wrong tree go aheadyou […]

i am ether pirate
i am copping this airspace for nothing
ho ho ho
how long before im cut off…?
this is my 3rd attempt at blogging this morning, fiendiess
twice already today
i have lost the lot
if i go off the air again
im just gonna cry

anyway
received glenny benny from the undies
new lp yessaday
starstudded line up, ladies n gentlemen
stephen cummo
grantley maclennon
adalita from magic dirt( nice one!!)
sarah blasko
angie hart
gianna lee from andromeda
phillipa nihill from the unders
but the whole thing holds together
in one continuum
every other singers done a lovely job
on their track
bennies music remains superb
just like the curchh
hes getting better n better
he is himself and no other
he picks up his giutar or synth
and he is gb
and being yourself is no meen feet
thats the hardest thing to do
to turn into yerself
i wasnt myself for ages
like a pot of cold milk oats salt n sugar
i was just sullenly floating about
just a bunch of influences n ideas
i didnae even notice it at first
but one day i guess i turned on my old 4 track
and out stepped sk
an instant geenius
like athene
falling formed from zeus head
there i was
me, at last
all the olde skin shed
i had my own take on it
i had my own spin
i wanted to include
trex
bobdylan
dylan thomas
bowie
beatles
stones
patti smiff
v. undieground
be bop deluxe
the doctors of madness
twilight zone
sci fict n fant
rimbaud
surrealism
impressionism
futurism
all of that and more
i threw into the process which created me
an ya know what fiendss
i aint influenced by
nor do i wanna be like any o the following
rem
u2
coldplay
the byrds( well, very little)
echo and the bmen
grunge
emo
rap
disco
country n westin
none of those
if ya read a revue
and it mentions any thing on the a list
ya know they got it right
anything on the b list they getting it wrong
we are nothing to do with the 80s
anymore than you are
we lived thru it just like you all did
thats it
if you wanna bark up the wrong tree go ahead
you ever see a picture of me looking 80s
(you probably seen one where i looked 80, tho)
nope
we are not about movements
eras
nostalgia
youth oer
olde age
we are musicians trying to describe
something sublime
and we disavow being a part of anything
i dont care who ive influenced or not
i dont care what the critics say
be it love or hate
i only care what you fiendss think
and even that
will not sway me from my lifelong need
to plough this furrow
and i’ll plow it
even if i reap success or indifference
and pat yerselves on the back if ya like
what i/we do
in the simple terms of rocknroll
we strive to stretch it to its limit
and yet it still has to be us
thats a dilemma to be hammered straight fiendss
it can take a quarter of a century
its a slippery slope
easy to go off one side or thother
its a marathon
the race doesnt end till yer die
and then ya come back and start all over again
and you gotta learn it all over again
unless ya remember
and then they call you a prodigy
and i know its not easy to keep on track
so i thank ya for ya patience
thats understood
i will continue to explore the othertime
and the empty place
now i been off the gear awhile
and i been hitting the pool n the y. mat
breathing in the prana-chi-love
my mind clearing
ideas come to me
unbidden
unhidden
there is no work in this for me
my fingers glide over my bass
like flames licking the wood
they work independently
my voice sings
words arrive in my mind
i do nothing
my blogg is dictated to me
by the saint or the sinner
sometimes, often
they share it
anyway
im gonna proclaim my belief in god
i call him vishnu
call him arthur if you want
let him be whatever you like
but talk to him
ask him to reveal himself
it takes so long my lord
my sweet lord
no instant grat fiendss
not here
sorry
on monday nite at 9 15
im playing a gig with 2 of austs
finest jazz players
real musicians musicians
i already rehearsed with em
and let me tell ya these cats are magic
jonathan z on double bass
hamish s on drums

plus
david lane
whos playing i love
esp in this context
at the icebergs club
bondi fucking beach fiendss
be there!
and
maybe i’ll even be worth a revue this time…..
(sigh)

sk