The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

no spruik only poem

In the cherry mists of spring we came upon Illyria’s vast inland lake

I remember swimming through my lives the aqua forte in bluest contrasts

Blonde haired dark skinned village girls who took part in the ceremonies

Youths gathering like clouds on the edges of some undeniable fortune

The drummed down dragons slunk away to wait for summer

My carbon height slips like diamond flash in shallows in shoals

No exposure will reveal to you the mysteries my eyes have seen through

No caster of pebbles or malchick queen of the curling doll

The Zoroaster in columns on her lovely pavilions

In far flung eastern virtual palaces

Intrigue has a scent like vanishing vanilla against pure steel

Imagine the afternoons we could have had there, you and I

Oh the undulating waves of opium and haze extend out and further than now

The implications of our dreams still exist some where

Like the mighty oak imprisoned in a lowly acorn

Deep in the earth so our seed may still yet grow

In secretive signs do the earths not converse with the skies?

For the starwatchers little hole wherein he perchance can trap heaven

The squirming stars breathless in the magickal tube

As they writhe in ether

The bound planets who can never roll off into darkness

The gorgeous shy moon waxed crescent blush pink

The dirge of the birds whom the crow has  just robbed

The sad sob of the traffic through the gate

and the throb of tomorrow too late.

healthy wealthy and wise
oh well one outta 3 aint bad

this blog is for david rundle

who is not only my accountant but a good good friend

and also a church/kilbey expert

david was concerned he’d heard and read and seen too much “druggy”stuff

about me lately

and was hoping that i have maintained my fitness regime.

well yes i have.

i swim somewhere between a 500 metres and a kilometre every day

i still do yoga almost every day, in fact i’m gonna do it as soon as i finish this.

and i walk a real lot. and i never sit around munching on food or guzzling booze.

i dont smoke cigs but i smoke weed

it kinda keeps me rolling along

its not for everybody but nor is riding a unicycle.

my way isnt everybodys way

kids dont smoke dope before yer 18 and dont smoke dope if youre already crazy!

dont smoke dope if youre already paranoid or delusional

do smoke dope if youre an artist or musician and you’d like some help

ive written 780 registered songs and all of em involved dope

big deal. i am neither proud of that nor ashamed

if you think thats too naughty for you go read some other mothers blog

thats the facts

i’m coming up 60 and i’m still churning the stuff out

i’m still fucking rocking baby and rolling a bit too

i think faster than when i did when i was young

my mind and body and spirit are in some sort of harmony although not perfect

the swimming in that seawater pool or down at a netted harbour beach

its like dunking myself in a bath of negative ions

i rise up each morning refreshed

the sea i have to have it

i cannot will not live away from or without the sea

everything comes from the sea

it is my saviour my solution my salve

yoga baby yoga oh god what are you all waiting for?

you gotta do yoga its gonna help you in everything you do my little fiends

wanna play better guitar: yoga

wanna be a better sportsman: yoga

wanna be a better person: yoga

it just works trust me i have no axe to grind

you just gotta do it

and thats that spring in my step

that bounce in the ankles

the flexibility of my knees

the source of my energy

the way i now open up and let the music flow thru me

instead of trying to trap it: yoga

the reason i am still a contender and why the next church album will be our best: yoga

whatever: yoga

and then my almost-vegan diet

yeah i slip up and not a pure vegan

i dont fucking care of what anybody thinks of what i eat

ive been arguing with people for 45 years over it

its boring…can you do what i do?

Can you run around onstage carrying a heavy plank of wood for 3 hours?

i am fit and healthy and strong. dont worry about me

moving closer all the time to my masterpiece whatever it will be

i got wrinkles and stuff

but in all other ways i dont feel any different to when i was 18

‘cept i’m more flexible and not as lazy

therefore i presume i am doing something right

and i presume smokin’ dope cant be that bad for ya tho i dont recommend it per se

but it sure worked out well for me and sir paul ? right?

my spirit runs this whole show

like a driver it drives my body via my mind

these three things must be brought into balance

although a surplus of soul will never go astray

listen to your spirit

listen to your body

dont listen so much to your mind

exercise

think

and pray

be in all three worlds

you are angel man beast

cater to all three

dont neglect the needs of your component parts

meat will fuck you right up

its the truth n becoming truer every single day as more people see the light

if you eat meat youre giving yourself a severe disadvantage despite all the exercise

if you drink loads of booze or smoke loads of cigs

then youre ruining yourself quicker than ya think

i am the proof in my pudding

i am nearly sixty and age aint slowed me down one little bit

this is how i am doing it

you could follow my example because it obviously works

i am kicking ass and trying to unlock the inner mysteries of what i do

thats me

i got my problems too

i aint perfect yeah you know

i make mistakes and i do wrong things

i am angry and anxious and all the rest

a bit of a flake

but for sixty almost

i dont feel too fucking bad

in fact,

i feel pretty fucking good

do whatever y’all like

but what i do has sure worked out well for me

so far…..

grant n me in NYC 1991

as i work my way thru the making of this video

i wonder what you will make of it all

just like i wonder what i make of everything on a daily basis

grant n I met up we instantly hit it off like a house on fire

we hung out a real real lot

taking drugs and playing guitar

grant always with a cig and a glass of wine on hand

on hot disconsolate nights we wandered thru the wilderness of

a 3 story huge old house where my studio was

a house full of junky doctors and dealers and even a dominatrix

a house full of musicians and engineers and singers and other idiots

them long hot darlinghurst nights (well surry hills but very close!)

91 albion street go see it its still there

the house that stephen cummings wrote about twice

the den of iniquity that shocked poor old mae moore

the house where we did half of margots 1st record

grant and i guitars strapped on

strumming and bitching and laughing and drinking

we go outside where we sit on the steps

i accost passers-by demanding that they recognise grant

who sits there half embarrassed and giggling at my antics

he puffs his cig in that side-woods way

and always has the best fucking quip

we went to the states together

arista wanted a little promo tour

our record had lots of instruments but we are reduced to an acoustic duo

surprisingly our voices and guitars meld almost seamlessly we become each other

grant and i loved goading each other on you can see that all here

we were under the others influence a bit

we are funny tho

some of it makes me laugh still

grants know it all smirk is worth twenny bucks alone

i left it real

i could have cleaned it up a bit

but i wanted you to see the frosties in situ unaltered or censored

theres a spiteful dark side to us

now i wonder why that it was that way?

why were we so restless and blabbing on all the time?

what wasnt there to enjoy ?

we were playing some gigs and doing some interviews

and staying in the best hotels around

theres plenty of admirers in all shapes n sizes

and we had a little bit of money too …at least i did then

but theres an anxiety a sadness at the heart of some of it

i love watching grant

i love his wandering eye that makes him look like jesus on the cross

although not handsome as such there is a strange compulsion attached to him

he was as if from some other time and place

me….fuck …i dunno…i look good but i’m a different guy now

i been thru a lot since then

so this

apart from 2 albums is all there is

this was all that i could squeeze onto the download and it was quite a job

(some raw footage remains of the frosties in australia..it may see light of day eventually)

so if you wondered how it felt to be in Jack frost in 1991 this’ll set you straight

i am still too close to it

still under grants spell when i watch him at work on this film

if you like you can

download it here

please use my comments section to leave reviews of video too

if you want

ladies and gentlemen

jack frost in america is now ready

https://sellfy.com/p/VWXe/

frost report

finally getting around to it

the video of jack frosts tiny USA tour in 1991

here we are playing and quipping

quipping and playing

lots of mucking about

strumming and picking guitars

we take on the press the record company the audience and each other

grant is by turns sardonic sarcastic sentimental

his smile is so heartbreakingly lovely

we were doing a promo tour of the USA

a few live gigs a few radio shows

some of the stuff has been lost down the tubes forever

this then is the creme of what remained

we only knew about 10 songs

you’ll hear a few of the same songs a few times in different circumstances

i left almost all the live footage intact.

the film over all is no where near as jumpy as “buzzes and fades”

the sound quality is ok

i have not tampered with anything

this is a live home bootleg

theres lots of talk about drugs and sniggering at ourselves

its kinda sad to see it 23 years on now but its instructional

i was on the verge of a huge heroin habit about to consume my life

at this stage i was dabbling but grant had been dabbling for ages

we keep mentioning drugs with a truly monotonous regularity

although little comes our way beyond the odd joint

we seem quite besotted by each other too and our perceived “clevernesses”

we are existing in our own little bubble

and when we get back to sydney eventually that bubble will burst

here i am looking so stylish and confident and cool

on the eve of my descent into heroin mess i was definitely stylish

grant was so fucking funny

and so condescending to some of the “idiots” we encounter

grant and i thought we were the bees knees in being the hippest guys alive

and we had teamed up

i was about to have twins E and M

and grant had split up with his girlfriend whom he adored

we turned up in LA and we watched the then brand new Doors movie with val kilmer

afterwards grant just wanted to do something so bad…!

people underestimate the rock n roll side of grant

it co existed there with all the thomas hardy stuff believe me

its sad and strange watching this

he was the best friend i ever had until drugs tore us apart

grant never descended into full on addiction and he went back to brisbane

and he stopped or de escalated to the occasional dabble again

but he and i fell out permanently when i didnt stay at his place in brisbane one time

instead i had elected to stay at a drug dealing friends place

i had made my choice

and grant and i only saw each other one more time before his death

i wish i had spent more time with him when he was still here

blah blah blah

luckily this film remains to remember those days

anyway its done now except for some boring tweaks here and there

a postcard from bygone times

available soon i expect

another yellow period

the famous face of her fabulous frame

the games are announced in the marvellous spring

now its summer outside my tiny windows

summer eve can you believe such a thing?

the ointment of night is spread cross the sea

some joint still broadcasting from the 1950

some heartbreaking song broken on the wind

lonesome old music adrift in the night

in the night of great wonders approacheth the shops

the salty air corroding the chrome of the rich

i ditch my clothes on a heap on the floor

from out of the black i am coaxing a face

the night is a painting with its white and  its pink

the bats swoop low over roofs of the trippers

the wandering clouds are battered in heaven

i work as the ghosts play all their tricks on me

the lights go on and off things fall to the ground

i am not impressed by the whisperings near my head

the ocean however has purified the air

mosquitos still feed off me freely but they fly away fucked

my blood congeals in their bellies like darkening treacle

my heart beat is very very slow years pass between its subtle pulses

the summer night is full of girls who fall out of the bars

the babble of the drunken patrons is intensified by tonight

the looming holiday has elevated them with false bonhomie

their sunburnt faces utter a million meaningless words

outside on the street i am gone

dont look for me

i am in a tower of trees where a sometime pleasant breeze blows

i am sitting here banging it all out i never stop

i am charged with energy i have sucked from the great white stars

i am lucid on the dream run home where i score again again in zone

the mackerels in shoals flash from the green moonlit rocks

in an ice cream shop i add caramel to raspberry blocks

the night in eden down by the docks

summer but shorter and shortening day

unheard of sound begins to play

the realest world we have

hello and welcome

i have a lot of stuff still on the boil

songs from the real world is now out and its pretty good

maybe not quite as good consistently as a real kil/ken record but close

it does contain a few standout tracks however

which would not be outta place on the real deal

tracks like naomi and maya

and “my one”

a lovely power ballad for david and ginas wedding

i dont believe anyone has ever done a record like this before

i’d be interested to see what you thought of our commissions

although martin and i are both artists and dream up our own stuff prolifically

we both enjoy being artisans and using our experience to write specific songs as directed

this has always been one of the functions of art : to do what somebody else asks you to do

like mikey angelo painting the sistine chapel and stuff like that

you pay us to write you a song

martin and i take your request and we actualise your wish

some of our songs moved their new owners to (good) tears

here you can hear us plying our trade with love and care and flair (but not flares)

we have songs about children whove lost a parent

we have songs about lakes eternities and theology

we have songs about cafes and wives and daughters and friends

and even one brand newey just for the hell of it

martin had a track he’d kinda forgotten about

and i insisted he dig it up and lemme do something on it

its the last track. i kinda dig it

its like a dylan track off street legal or something

good on us! who else is doing tracks that sound like street legal ?

(thats a dylan album for the philly steins out there)

so look naturally i recommend it

and it was actually me who nagged MK to release it

so happy am i with most of it

i wanted you all to hear it…

next up i am playing my last shows of the year on my own

one in canberra at smiths bookshop

this will be a return where i have my voice intact

and my guitar strung prop’ly

i will trying some new material and plenty of old

i will be reading the funny bits from my book

there are some funny bits in my book that people enjoy hearing

the bits about me on tour told in a schizo kinda way

tales of the zigger jacket etc

(what the fuck is a zigger jacket anyway? )

there will be rambling misty eyed reminiscing about the AC fucking T

and how its dullness fostered my scintillating genius

that every current canberran ninny is just dying to hear ha ha

so there i am me and me book and me guild 12 in smiths book shop

itll be all yer christmas wishes come true if youre an atheist

bah humbug and have a merry whatsit canberra cos i’m a coming sunday night baby

15 dec riding in my gold falcon sleigh with bells on

then the 17th up in troppo brizzie

i will be appearing at lefties old time music hall

once a joint of salubrious notoriety now a lovely old gig

bringing back misty memories of seeing vanessa the undresser there in 1857

during the gold record rush

jesus old vanessa’d be getting on these days ……(sigh!)

anyway there are rumours of a few guests coming along to help out

so fingers crossed that will come to pass

please come to lefties all you Qlders

i’ll have merch n everyfing for late chrispy presents… perhaps for an enemy

its gonna be a great gig i promise you that and thats a promise i may keep

tickets are selling pretty good to that so make sure i dont miss out

(on selling more)

gee this advertising malarky is a cinch for me isnt it?

meanwhile ive been doing Rock Wiz all round the place

hobnobbing with old guard of Doc Neeson and Mark Gable

or hanging with the new kids like Nick from Deep Sea Arcade

or Izzi from the Preatures

you can be sure i am my usual grumpy boring tired self

Docs tales of being on a troop carrier plane in the middle east

and of heat seeking missiles locking on

and the pilots aerial acrobatics to throw it off

should have but did not calm my shakey nerves as we came into adelaide

however i very much appreciated him and Mr Gable being my wingmen

when i needed to have a desperate wee wee during a traffic jam in melbourne

they were taking the  attention from me you see and were creating a diversion

mark also took some pictures of me i believe (unbelievably enuff!!)

go to seeskpeesontrees.com and price on application i understand

meanwhile i work on bits n pieces

and listening to new church album so far which is undeniably good

ha ha

love on each n every one of you

sk

unbeknownst

in the deep arctic hole in my heart

where a lake of ache lies

the drowning city of sham

under waves of pity and scorn

when i heard them sing my song

the music travelled back in time towards me

from a future i will never know

the blindsided visionary backstage then

the alpha and epsilon

the flash of a flint the gasp of a crowd

the burning sea laps at the dirty sand

the thunder above us to say god will never love us

we still chant and supplant the suppliant rhyme

in time and both spaces we come face to faces

i am jonah on this aeroplane throw me off!

i plummet through the clouds but i still scoff

look i strap on my axe my fender stradivarius cumulo nimbus

but my blistered eyes cant see the redline coming

in rockpools by the sea see me sitting there strumming

god i cry for everyone i weep for rome

my tears would wash london clean back home

my scalding crocodile tears for my twins as they sing away out there

my skinny twins every day is a new beginning let the twinning begin

in some frozen city those pretty kitties dream their pop

i reach out in the dark recess of past i lived too fast

i guess the smack caught up with me at last

i shoot money up my arm howcome my brain is empty of the ready

i took a hit in the pit of my stomach rendered me unsteady

its hot in my room some wild zephyr doth fucking blow

whats a pansy like me doing in this tropical ruin i’ll never know

i wrote some chords but they were swords unto my ear

throw me off this craft i’m falling after all

plunger i tear through the sky like a stone

clutching wildly at vapours and mists we all fall alone

ive forgotten the words and i’m out on stage

the music from yesteryears back pages unleashed from its cage

man its like a shock wave as it travels back at me at the mic

and suddenly the phrases light up my limpet soul mighty quick

and on each side my identical daughters like mirrors to the slaughter

and the pilots voice comes on crooning i didnt know he could sing

you gotta let me off this plane really now i understand everything

and the pilot sings

why dont you why dont you why dont you

fall away

with me…?

view finder

in this house where nothing is mine only gods

a gracious spirit has passed by bringing us some sweet music

holy harmony of long gone jericho maybe ripped from horn

i remember the hanging gardens of nineveh i dreamed in my tomb

yes there were angels but they were terrible to look upon

with great wings beating cobalt void

voices calling heavens language into the ether

but i have wandered from both my oath and path

in brothel and opium den god still see through men

down every wire the liar is trapped again

the muse i sought was not so easily bought

the discontent of winter gave way to summers blazing bloom

in a courtyard in israel where the camera flare

and music comes like the most perfect distance approaching all whirling strangest strings

flinging things from its centre the music enters from above

covering the plains and planes of men with the strains of gods own song

oh if you can bear to hear it oh mortal man

every drum in every world and worlds we cannot even apprehend my friend

beating out the heart of gods name in blood like flame

suddenly i am eventually reduced to moaning my poem in the dirt of this earth

i crawl and trawl through my desert bible moses madman mayhem

let my people go

i let my people go to the city of sin and sodom down by the transparent sea

there was a bitch of a devil and she was waiting for me

i am an angel too she spat into a darkening storm that hovered high

as she pull out my eyes so i could see she was as blind as me

this nightmare world is gone come morning somewhere i care about

but the question of evil is not leaving so easy just to please thee

god intervene in this dream i sure as silent scream

god in a field in the bright land beyond death

your cross is grown over now in flowers of light

so absorbed in eternal perfection and wondering aloud

each word is a song some world will one day sing

each world slips created into time and is at once complete

oh everything is already there

nothing begins nothing ends

the music composed once lasts in the air forever

it is the very weather it is the birds and it is the fish

its the howling nether beasts who may not exist

oh fox mind siren who sings from her cove

and crazy maenad ripped orpheus for love

music is dripping from gods fingers child i guarantee it

if i couldnt be his singer why would i be it?

i play the blues down in the swamp the monsters come and see it

i arctic harp in the frosted halls and walls under the blackest vault

the women lie close to me to keep their bodies warm they say

but when the darkness comes some hands under my shirt begin to play

through this ice roof i feel his eyes although no surprise

in this wintered cloak we entered underground through a burnt oak

the mulled wine with its almonds and raisins was warm

soon a swarm of shadows had gently enfolded me in sleep

and after that

there were no memories i was allowed to keep

thus spake kroon

presumptuous insects of summer you can bite my fix

when i am gone then you will realise and know

when you were snoozing in nothingness

i was out there blazing the way across a nightclub wilderness

it could not contain me

music pictures flow away from me

words hover at my fingertips

i bathe in deep rock where i merge with those in golden age

listen wait proceed think about it

float past in black river there i go

you a sloth in a tree

watching idly as there i go

i take sky out of space

i set stone to music

i take it faster

hook is a drug gotta love in me

swirling intrigue inhuman league

babbling oracle of warning and doom

dour sour powerless dwarf no star

no sun of mind you are no 1

whoever you are i forget your name

i have no time for future

in love with my ugly mirror i draw forth my song

tell me show me your song

i heard that it all came out wrong

when cars collide witnesses often divided

they say who ran over me song and ran away?

i walk outta train wreck smelling of plane fuel

i crawl out of hello hello hello

i dawdle in wardrobes i waddle thru twaddle

so what who cares he who dares wings and fall

lame dolt bolted to your molted nous

i am a mouse

you are a man

ok…? ….sure

i understand