“it dials my numbers up
it picks my locks
picks his kind
To go and mingle in my mind” – lyrics from Cobalt Blue – Untitled #23 album
Desert wind in a telephone box …..
“it dials my numbers up it picks my locks picks his kind To go and mingle in my mind” – lyrics from Cobalt Blue – Untitled #23 album
lotta stuff coming up
sorry the cds are all on their whey there was an unforeseen delay but theyre coming atcha the idyllist in yer mailbox coming through your door your postie knock knock package for you sign here please i apologise for the hold up next week i hope to start on a new collaboration with someone i’m not gonna say who it is until they get here but i’m excited but you never know in showbiz do ya? and things can go wrong at anytime i got so much on the boil sometimes i cant think that straight still to come are coral kingdom n hu dost collabs both works in progress kil/ken is looming large you will be surprised by this record i guarantee it and of 21st of september i am doing a solo show with orchestra in sydney thats with george ellis from OH days i’m writing painting working try to stay moving my rib is still hurting having xray tomorrow wrote 2 cool new pieces of music quite unusual i blah blah blah ok?
white pastel pencil
sorry the cds are all on their whey
there was an unforeseen delay but theyre coming atcha
the idyllist in yer mailbox
coming through your door
your postie knock knock package for you sign here please
i apologise for the hold up
next week i hope to start on a new collaboration with someone
i’m not gonna say who it is until they get here but i’m excited
but you never know in showbiz do ya?
and things can go wrong at anytime
i got so much on the boil
sometimes i cant think that straight
still to come are coral kingdom n hu dost collabs both works in progress
kil/ken is looming large
you will be surprised by this record i guarantee it
and of 21st of september i am doing a solo show with orchestra in sydney
thats with george ellis from OH days
i’m writing painting working
try to stay moving
my rib is still hurting having xray tomorrow
wrote 2 cool new pieces of music quite unusual
i blah blah blah
ok?
not idle
here is a new video featuring music by me photos by RB hope you enjoy
here is a new video featuring
music by me
photos by RB
hope you enjoy
Verging on Vinyl : Review of Untitled #23
Day Thirty-Eight: The Church – Untitled #23 8th Feb 2013 http://vovinyl.blogspot.com.au/2013/02/day-thirty-eight-church-untitled-23.html “Back when I wrote about Burning Airlines’ Identikit, I decided to be a smartypants and ask J. Robbins and Peter Moffett for opinions on where to go with that entry, and got different responses from each. It did, however, help to decide which release to go with that time. When I started planning ahead for my next polls (after the onslaught around artists starting with “B”) I saw that I had the Church in the running. I actually typed up that poll (Untitled #23 vs. Starfish) and then decided that, since he had actually passed along my previous writing about the Church (now and forever the most popular post on that blog, as a result!), I would ask Steve Kilbey for input here. After doing so, I started pondering asking Marty Willson-Piper, and maybe even Peter Koppes, just to get a well-rounded set of responses, if I could, but I was surprised to get a response from Mr. Kilbey almost immediately. Without any demands, he simply told me he’d prefer I write about Untitled #23, without question (as I had asked specifically if he had a preference). When that response came in, I thought about it. I realized that, most likely, he said this because, well, if there’s a Church album people know about–it’s Starfish. It seemed, then, like it would be the right thing in all senses to follow his wishes. I took down the poll (few if any even saw it), and marked Untitled #23 for writing today. I’ve already written about how I stumbled into the Church (the link above will take you there, if you are curious), so I’ll go ahead and leave it at the most barebones note possible. The portion of it which relates to this very entry is as follows: while I knew […]
Day Thirty-Eight: The Church – Untitled #23
8th Feb 2013
http://vovinyl.blogspot.com.au/2013/02/day-thirty-eight-church-untitled-23.html
“Back when I wrote about Burning Airlines’ Identikit, I decided to be a smartypants and ask J. Robbins and Peter Moffett for opinions on where to go with that entry, and got different responses from each. It did, however, help to decide which release to go with that time. When I started planning ahead for my next polls (after the onslaught around artists starting with “B”) I saw that I had the Church in the running. I actually typed up that poll (Untitled #23 vs. Starfish) and then decided that, since he had actually passed along my previous writing about the Church (now and forever the most popular post on that blog, as a result!), I would ask Steve Kilbey for input here. After doing so, I started pondering asking Marty Willson-Piper, and maybe even Peter Koppes, just to get a well-rounded set of responses, if I could, but I was surprised to get a response from Mr. Kilbey almost immediately. Without any demands, he simply told me he’d prefer I write about Untitled #23, without question (as I had asked specifically if he had a preference). When that response came in, I thought about it. I realized that, most likely, he said this because, well, if there’s a Church album people know about–it’s Starfish. It seemed, then, like it would be the right thing in all senses to follow his wishes. I took down the poll (few if any even saw it), and marked Untitled #23 for writing today.
I’ve already written about how I stumbled into the Church (the link above will take you there, if you are curious), so I’ll go ahead and leave it at the most barebones note possible. The portion of it which relates to this very entry is as follows: while I knew their biggest single, I stumbled into some of their most recent work a decade ago by chance, and this was my most expansive introduction, and informed my understanding of how the band sounds almost more emphatically than even the song that was thoroughly ingrained in my head. It was a sound appropriate for my musical tastes at the time–I was deeply into post rock, and the sounds that lay within albums like After Everything Now This were not far off from that same sensibility.
Untitled #23, as a record, is a major variation on the album as it was released on CD. The three tracks I marked with an asterisk (*) above are not present on the CD version, and were released as the B-sides on the Pangaea EP. The order is also quite significantly shifted, with former closer “Operetta” moved to the end of Side Two, and “Space Saviour” shifted forward a full seven tracks–amongst other things. This does make for a bit of a change of pace, but the tracklisting’s overall changes, compared to just dropping the extra tracks at the end, work where they lay (or lie, I’m not too sure).
Steady, clear, patient drumming begins the album in “Cobalt Blue”, a gentle electronic noise fading in, before Steve Kilbey’s voice enters, guitars¹ shortly following and chord-based, one moving higher but holding with the other. “To go and mingle in my mind”, Kilbey sings, and his voice echoes and drifts upward, pulled back down as the bass enters. Acting as counter to the guitars and giving them a brighter feel, the bass expands the range of the song itself, filling out the lower end where it had been left clear for the opening. Each time Kilbey’s voice floats off into scattering reflections, there’s a sense of a soft light spreading across the track, though after one occurrence about halfway through it takes the guitars with it, and leaves a woodwind sound that is just a bit darker, shadows falling where we just saw light. A mumble of distant voices rises up under this as a solo manifests slowly; it’s not the kind that defies the work around it, or elevates its tone or feeling to another one, it expands on the existing mood, a mix of light and softened darkness. The drums walks the track out with four easy snare hits, two pauses, and four more. Despite the snare emphasis, it’s not a march, though, it’s a normal step, one that walks us gently into “Deadman’s Hand”.
Far more uptempo, but in no way suddenly upbeat, “Deadman’s Hand” is relentlessly catchy. The riff it comes in on is distorted, but the kind that eats at the edges of the sound, rather than explicitly defining it. It’s a dark, lower-pitched kind of riff, though it doesn’t have a downward motion to it: it’s more like the kind of sound that might once have stuck the band with the label “gothic” (which has happened), but is more, perhaps, Gothic, than it is “gothic rock”–the sense of wizened or aged darkness, rather than a simple implication of deliberately depressing material. Frank Kearns adds a 12-string ring over the top of this, one that adds to this sense, despite the tendency for 12-strings to often cheer things up. When Kilbey begins singing, it’s with his normal voice, but tempered with a clever production move that changes it in spite of itself: he’s singing gently, but with the lightest “echo” that gives it an extremely ethereal quality. That “echo” is other voices here, of course, doubtless those of Marty or Peter (or both), but so subdued as to sound like shadows of Kilbey’s own. It’s a weird feeling: the drumming is uptempo, but the overall sound manages to catch itself at either end, turning it into some kind of catchy pop/rock song filtered through a drain on the most energetic elements.
The last track in its original placement, “Pangaea” begins to introduce us to the sounds that permeate the rest of the album: the first moments are a blend of mixed sounds, including touches of harp from Patti Hood and scattered notes from multiple guitars. A 12-string and bass gently bring everything together as a light cymbal wash marks the actual change. Gently strumming 12-string, thumping bassline–the song is a wash of sound, accented by backing vocals that “Oooh” gently and prettily behind Steve’s voice, which has regained its usual edge: a certain sharpness to the baritone that is incredibly distinct, that enunciates clearly, yet with a sort of catch to this that is unbelievably appropriate for their music. It all feels like a spread of sound, warm and soft, with Kilbey’s sharpened voice cutting at it, as he sings, “You’ve got your hands/’Round my throat/You’ve got your voice/In my head”, a haunting response from the others adds, “No matter what”, his threats suddenly softened by the chorus: “Pangaea…” the edge dropped and the last syllable turned to a pretty little wave. The 12-string suddenly takes over, sliding expertly through a solo that runs counter to the staid cello of Sophie Glasson.
Moved from near the end of the album, “Anchorage” is langorous compared to the preceding tracks, but the wandering, subdued keys seem to pull it upward somewhat, small points of light dotting the sliding drums, the downed guitars that blend perfectly with the keys, the lower end balanced between the mournful draw of Glasson’s cello and the almost upbeat bassline. “Just the way the dead have felt/Nothing like the way my name is spelt/But I belt it out anyway” Steve sings, the serrations emphasized, defiant, as roaring distorted electrics build the track over huge drums and splash, the wave only a small one. Scattered electronic noises are left in its wake, as the track goes on, a guitar taking off on its own to make its point, not taking it past an extended lead. The lyrics are constructed as defiant and pained, but are mostly delivered in defiance, expressing the pain with more aggression than hurt. Harmonized briefly, it’s like others carrying Steve’s defiance up when it might falter. Alongside them, a blazing guitar and then another wave, this one much larger–but it backs away, too, and this time leaves a quite chorale, the sliding tick of hi-hat emphasized drumming and a hummingbird-heart bassline. If it weren’t so eloquently sung and performed, it would be like a monologue to the absent, spoken with the openness and pride of a drunk, but the awareness, the consistency make it, instead, heartfelt admission and confession.
“Happenstance” makes for a rather curious song: at first that clean and clear biting winter wind of Kilbey’s voice and steadily strummed 12-string, tom-heavy drums and sliding bass–but then the upward curve of a higher tone turns it to something almost sunny, as Kilbey intones “Happenstance…” with just a touch of variation in each channel to give a fuller dimension to the sound. Near a whisper, Willson-Piper breathily adds a voice almost like a memory to this interruption, before that shine of lazy sun fans across it again. The trading voices of Steve and Marty, and the shining final peak of sound gives the song a feeling of relaxation almost narrated by both the present and the past.
Clanging bells and a soft buzz call “Sunken Sun” into place, though the song itself is an expansion of the sound of “Happenstance”, warm and easy resignation created with a guitar that climbs up, curious, to land on a ringing chord that is warm but expansive. As a line ends and a drum beat sounds, an operatic keyboard voice holds over empty space, ringing, echoing guitar that strikes with a sustained bass note falls across it, until it all hushes and returns to the calmness of the opening. One of the most striking solos on the album meanders in near the end of the track, never showing off at all, just growing naturally from the space it is left, often holding notes for extended periods, rather than cramming as many in as possible. It’s a beautifully organic extension of the song’s tone. The song fades off with those echoing guitar chords, clear and bright, but balanced by their companion chord into a sort of pained recollection of happy memory.
The first track to appear on the vinyl and not on the CD, “LLC” was given lyrics (and vocals) by Peter Koppes (as opposed to the usual Kilbey). A fantastic oscillating 12-string melody is the anchor of the song as a whole, and runs through all but . Much cheerier than anything previous (allegedly the cause for keeping the track off the album originally), it shifts into a predictive bridge and then a more steady chorus, before returning to that delightful 12-string run. A subtle lead holds and blends behind it, only taking real control at the very end with a rapid, twisting outro.
Originally the album’s closer, “Operetta” oddly fits in the same way as closer for Side Two and thus half the album. Strong keys and gently waving guitar eases the song into place, a seemingly endless sustain and echo on the spaced guitar chords emphasize the feeling of ends, of the music filtering out into the expanses. Overlapped, harmonized vocals and deep, low keys mark the chorus, like all preceding sounds and voices coming together by design to tie things together. This is how the song ends, too, slowly losing each layer until it is left as just a bending bass and drums, fading to nothing.
“On Angel Street” manages the neat trick of continuing without a lost beat from a track that could have ended the album. A long-held bass note accentuates a series of repeated keyboard notes and a wandering guitar. When Steve’s voice is added to this, it’s the sound of a singer alone, the keys keeping a full musicality in place, but making apparent the ambient nature of the song. The sounds are almost like blinking lights or quiet warning sirens, a backing to the voice that doesn’t imply furthered sentience or emotional presence, even as their slow shift between notes creates the emotional sense of the song. Wavering and wailing guitar leads come and enter like ghosts–beautiful but transient. That this does not end up coming off like a novelty, or an interlude, or some other kind of “fluff” is some kind of amazing.
Previously the penultimate track, “Lunar” has shifted backward only slightly (unless one counts running time). A lone woodwind starts the track as vaguely pastoral, a huge wash of ringing cymbal and the slow, resonating guitar chords setting up the slightly backed-up voice of Steve, thumping drums hinting at what is to come when a bassline filled with energy and activity absent from the other instruments comes in, churning the low end and attempting to push life into the adjacent instruments in their slowed tempos. It’s ineffective and everything falls away to a an echo-laden voice from Steve, on beat instruments, and then it seems to gain life, only to leave nothing but the woodwinds alone in its wake again.
“Insanity” is the other track that let’s Kilbey’s voice rest, as Marty Willson-Piper takes over, confident guitars stepping in ahead of the rest of the band, though when he begins singing–“It’s just insanity,” the operative word is “just”: it has a shrug to it, as if to suggest that there’s nothing to be concerned about. It works upward with each line, releasing at the end of them. It’s cheerier, even as it does not move any more rapidly. This isn’t to say it’s actually cheerful, it’s just not as…Romantic (that capital “R” is intentional). Marty’s voice goes vaguely Dylan-like, as he suggests the possibility that maybe it doesn’t make sense to ascribe the ways of the world to a divine plan, that it’s easier to see it as all random, and anything else might be, well…²
Oh, the guitar that opens “Space Saviour”; it carries just the right tone and effects, the slight watered sound and firm pull of the strings making it viscerally appealing without requiring or exhibiting the kind of feeling that a blues-inflected kind might. The steady on-beat guitar chords form a simple backing as Steve sings with the kind of voice that feels like he’s pushing it with as much power as he can–not volume, mind you, just force. The thumping four beats on drum matched with gradually opening splash are the perfect crescendo of repetition for the repeated needs of Kilbey’s words: “And I’ve gotta get up/And I’ve gotta get on/And I’ve gotta get off/And I’ve gotta get out…” When they fall away, the opening riff returns, and the drums turn to the thump and hi-hat of anticipatory restraint, as Kilbey intones calmly, gradually building back to that huge and determined parallel repetition. The song finally splinters and spreads, before leaving itself, to a watery, circling guitar that plays alone for just a moment before being left to hang.
When I noted that “Lunar” was only briefly re-arranged but with a qualifier, “So Love May Find Us” was, in essence, the entirey of that qualification. “So Love May Find Us” has a 17:48 runtime, and…I’m not sure I could, in good faith, attempt to walk anyone through it. This is not the kind of lengthy track that’s arranged around droning repetition for atmosphere, nor constant builds toward huge moments (like “Atom Heart Mother” does), nor cobbled together songs. It’s too well designed to feel like a completely improvised jam, especially with those tasty guitars in the first few minutes, shot out only every few moments, strong and clear, and hinting at a future threat. The drumming is controlled and low at the start, jazzy and interesting, burning quietly with the promise of future expanse. Eventually it begins to rumble, a solo of immense and unusual nature placing itself like a flag at the first third, marking the moment at which Glasson’s cello and Michael Bridge’s violin take precedent. For a short time, the song is more ambient than anything else, the bass drawing Steve’s voice back in with keys, before the drums finally fulfill the promise laid out earlier–not huge and aggressive, just free-wheeling and free-ranging, hi-hat traded for ride, fills and rolls eventually morphing into the standing beat. The song seems to end, hovering on ride, slowing keys, choral backing–but the bass draws it back in, the ride increasing in power, but easing off as the song shifts into a continued downtempo phrasing, ending with an excellent drum pass and a final wavering, splintering fade off.
The Church are often plagued by that comment: “Wait, the one from the 80s?” and there’s really no quality justification for it. They’ve released music with some regularity since that time, even as they’ve wobbled around the centrepoints that are Marty and Steve, Koppes taking a brief hiatus in the 90s. Their work has been generally well-regarded in all this time, even outside the fanbase. Untitled #23 was hailed as a supreme work, and justifiably so. This album is stunningly beautiful. It carries sounds you could ascribe to sources like post rock, yet when you try to pin them down, you realize it’s only a faint reminder. Neither treading their own water, nor anyone else’s, they’ve evolved steadily over the years within the very wide boundaries of their own sound. Bands with long histories often suffer obnoxious repetition of commentary–I’ve seen members of Pere Ubu incensed that their new album is not so much reviewed badly, as reviewed poorly, always referencing thirty year old albums as if that’s the only touchstone for a professional review, despite consistent releases all the way through now. They complained, too, of “Wow, they can still rock…” comments, which are similarly useless.
I suppose I could estimate how old the members of the Church were in 2009, but it doesn’t really matter. It isn’t impressive that anyone can still play at any age, nor that they can play well. It isn’t impressive that a band just isn’t releasing dreck after nearly thirty years either. What is impressive is the strength of identity in an album released almost 29 years after their first single. There’s no sense of struggling to maintain an established sound, or of flailing wildly for an entirely new one. No sense of tired, uncomfortable, should-have-retired-but-just-won’t recycling or cashing in. If a new band had released this work out of nowhere, it would be stunning. If any other long established band had released this work after a long hiatus, or even after working steadily, it would be stunning. And so this is: it’s not the sound of finally realized maturity, or of experimentation finally succeeding at re-lighting torches, it’s the sound of honed quality.
There’s no easy word for the tone that pervades this album, even with the addition of Peter and Marty’s “happier” songs (“Insanity” and “LLC”), which actually fit quite well within the whole, perhaps because of the tempering of “So Love May Find Us”. It’s the sound of the Church: not “goth”, but wise, lean, artful, and clear, with enough darkness that a casual look might relegate them (again) to goth. The album art–Marty’s photos, and the design of Tiare Helberg and Guppy Art’s Rachel Gutek–is brilliantly perfect. It’s the kind of design and image that you can get lost in alongside the music. It’s simple and clean, all deep rust and cross-hatched off-white, but a close looks shows you thick, peeling paint and cracked walls. The interior is more of the same: the way the off white left side jumps out from the dark red of the exterior, the way the thick, peeling pale red of the right moves against it–it’s nothing at all and everything at once, whatever you want, need, or feel it to be, because it doesn’t openly declare anything about the music contained. The nonchalant font, the ambiguous (or plain) title, the lack of uppercase on the exterior, it’s brilliant for preventing preconceived notions.
This isn’t an album to have a big happy dance party to, no. And, while you could take it as a possibly uneasy lullaby, it has so much energy despite the slower tempos that it remains engaging, and perhaps more engaging than much of music is. I found myself completely aware but closing my eyes throughout listening, a feeling almost like waking during a solo in “So Love May Find Us”, yet bewildered as I could recall everything I had heard up to that point in the piece, as if it has nearly hypnotized me. It’s too at ease with itself to feel overly contrived, yet too tight to feel lazy and random.
I could question the fact that this album has not made “the rounds” of the music community, but nothing is so simple as quality imbuing a work with legs. And that’s a truly unfortunate truth.
¹I am normally inclined to ascribe names to instruments, but they traded up enough on this album that I’m simply not going to bother, except where guests appear (who are specifically credit to instruments on tracks!)
²As I’m sometimes wary of misheard words, I decided to peruse lyrical transcriptions of “Insanity” and found someone who managed to completely ignore the clear moments that define these aspects: “And it’s full of holes, this Holy Bible” became “And it’s full of holes is your only rival”, and “unless it’s just a myth and” to “and let’s just admit that”. It almost looks like censoring, or willful refusal. For a moment, I thought I’d imagined things, but, no, that’s definitely what he’s singing. And, strangely–these are the only transcriptions I can find. I do sometimes wonder about people… ” – by R.C. Killian
i cant wait till i have some patience
saturday afternoon in bondi becalmed warm grey windy day think of old times think of the past think of the band think about music a door opens to a warm rainy summer somewhere then but it can never take me back in memory fade slow burn out to pure white in negative black no avail no avail girls clomph thru bondi in high wedge shoes they look like galloping hippopotami as they race up Campbell Parade hailing a cab the place is packed with cars ice cream chips fish gulls swimmers kids dogs bouncers spruikers deadbeats hippies spaniards swedes by the bucketload yibber yabbering up Hall Street cops and beggars and looneys and saints inside the shops do the jostle buy a slurpee or a surfboard or board shorts or wetsuit you want thai food haircut manicure pilates tattoo? you want frozen yoghurt gelato full cream haagen norgen NZ ice? you want cigs wigs coats clothes bikinis wax brazilian mexican vietnamese ? you want hustler fumbler crook and society bitch in her black land crusher 4wd you want surfer graffiti skater biker bikie surfie grommet and boob jobs? you want botox shots parking ticket bottle shops prams tourists ? you want celebrities nobodies somebodies has beens never was? you want salt sand umbrellas pines palms g-strings tits n ass? you want cafe bar restaurant brunch tapas aioli rocket boutique beer? you want phony flaky lousy silly awful funny curious blase fucked up? you want real estate agent and waverley council ranger? you want one way street you want eternal construction machine? you want home renovation all around the street and wild parties? you want rich man poor man bored man thief? or what? me …i just dont care at all…
orange as warm
saturday afternoon in bondi becalmed
warm grey windy day
think of old times think of the past
think of the band think about music
a door opens to a warm rainy summer somewhere then
but it can never take me back in
memory fade slow burn out to pure white in negative black
no avail no avail
girls clomph thru bondi in high wedge shoes
they look like galloping hippopotami
as they race up Campbell Parade hailing a cab
the place is packed with cars ice cream chips fish gulls swimmers
kids dogs bouncers spruikers deadbeats hippies spaniards
swedes by the bucketload yibber yabbering up Hall Street
cops and beggars and looneys and saints
inside the shops do the jostle
buy a slurpee or a surfboard or board shorts or wetsuit
you want thai food haircut manicure pilates tattoo?
you want frozen yoghurt gelato full cream haagen norgen NZ ice?
you want cigs wigs coats clothes bikinis wax brazilian mexican vietnamese ?
you want hustler fumbler crook and society bitch in her black land crusher 4wd
you want surfer graffiti skater biker bikie surfie grommet and boob jobs?
you want botox shots parking ticket bottle shops prams tourists ?
you want celebrities nobodies somebodies has beens never was?
you want salt sand umbrellas pines palms g-strings tits n ass?
you want cafe bar restaurant brunch tapas aioli rocket boutique beer?
you want phony flaky lousy silly awful funny curious blase fucked up?
you want real estate agent and waverley council ranger?
you want one way street you want eternal construction machine?
you want home renovation all around the street and wild parties?
you want rich man poor man bored man thief?
or what?
me …i just dont care at all…
final thoughts on the idyllist
Final thoughts on the idyllist Oh boy I gotta lotta on my plate so I wont linger longer on idyllist So much happening all at once you see Now my internets down n I’m writing this in “word” So that accounts for all the fucking capitals n stuff Anyway the machine knows better than me what I want to write Ok idyllist is a sprawling drawling mélange A hodge podge of all the music I ever heard baby n then some Its un-apollo-getically eclectic There is no theme no rhyme or reason In that it reminds me of todd by todd rundgren A tour-de-force of a slightly unhinged nutty genius just running amok Ie one song does not prepare you for the next One mans variety is another mans lack of continuity I guess That’s the funny thing with me I manage to be right n wrong at same time being Ok so I just listened to the cd up loud Theres some glaring brilliant bits and some brilliantly glaring bits Theres a few sonic problems here and there Theres a few bum notes Theres a few things too loud a few things too soft Things that shoulda been but were…uh…yeah you get the picture..i know its Kilbey its his solo album what would you expect fucking TOTO? Its raw its earthy its undisciplined its loose its ragged Its spontaneous its silly its dopey its comi-tragedy Orchestras barge in outta nowhere Strange foreign instruments pop up all over the place All the little jingly things tap away 12 string strum strum strum typical of yer sk stuff as always was from 1977 I always strumming my twelve you know so well my listeners Usually never far away from sk and his song Theres that simple bass impudently insistent bullying every […]
see dee
Final thoughts on the idyllist
Oh boy I gotta lotta on my plate so I wont linger longer on idyllist
So much happening all at once you see
Now my internets down n I’m writing this in “word”
So that accounts for all the fucking capitals n stuff
Anyway the machine knows better than me what I want to write
Ok idyllist is a sprawling drawling mélange
A hodge podge of all the music I ever heard baby n then some
Its un-apollo-getically eclectic
There is no theme no rhyme or reason
In that it reminds me of todd by todd rundgren
A tour-de-force of a slightly unhinged nutty genius just running amok
Ie one song does not prepare you for the next
One mans variety is another mans lack of continuity I guess
That’s the funny thing with me I manage to be right n wrong at same time being
Ok so I just listened to the cd up loud
Theres some glaring brilliant bits and some brilliantly glaring bits
Theres a few sonic problems here and there
Theres a few bum notes
Theres a few things too loud a few things too soft
Things that shoulda been but were…uh…yeah you get the picture..i know
its Kilbey its his solo album what would you expect fucking TOTO?
Its raw its earthy its undisciplined its loose its ragged
Its spontaneous its silly its dopey its comi-tragedy
Orchestras barge in outta nowhere
Strange foreign instruments pop up all over the place
All the little jingly things tap away
12 string strum strum strum
typical of yer sk stuff as always was from 1977
I always strumming my twelve you know so well my listeners
Usually never far away from sk and his song
Theres that simple bass impudently insistent bullying every song
The bass is the subtext
It tells you whats really going on
The e guitars doing my usual scratchy shifty fucked up racquet
Some naively amazing moments when it all goes right
Some glorious collisions when it doesn’t
My bum notes like my chequered past baby
Oh just let it all hang out !
Idyllist grew up and had a life of its own
Its not what I expected
It must have made its self because I cant remember making it now
I don’t know what some of the words are
Its become another one of my albums now
Its probably gotta be one of the best
The banal and accomplished butt heads and dissolve
Suddenly it all seems to mean so much then its gone by next song
It is no ordinary record yet not extraordinary either
It is the beatles Dylan bolan bowie regurgitated thru my eyes
But at some uncontrollable random generation
The ideas all stand next to the other bizarrely juxtaposed
In some songs everything is all woozy lurching
The words are …oh how can I explain…why would I even try..
Nobody writes words like me
It isn’t possible and who would even want to
I stand alone here in my niche
No one will ever replace me as better at doing this
I know that
I have it all under control believe it or newt
And I got more amazing music and collaborations coming atcha
A very exciting project I will announce as soon as confirmed
The next kil/ken is a mindblowing giant of a record
Seriously I love to blow my own cor anglais
But cor blimey “you are everything” is a blockbuster
A deep spiritually wry album full of huge arrangements
Mixed to a pristine yet experimental perfection by s polinski
Quite different to idyllist
Which is a chaotic record compared to that records careful order
I am proud of idyllist tho I cant really take it in anymore
But through all that I know its pretty good
Its indefinable its strange quirky absent minded
Its an interesting record if nothing else
It heralds a kind of new beginning
And it is therefore a fresh start
And I hope with everything I learned
That the next record totally solo will be apokrypha
That elusive and monstrous masterpiece I hear in my head
Certainly there are elements of that here
The outro to truth aint enough etc
Theres some of it on here already
But idyllist is full of light n shade but apok wont be
It will be one incredible thing
This is many scattered things
Look in the end
I like it
How couldn’t you like it?
All those years I should make good records
I sure cant do much else
This is my calling my living my vocation my manifest destiny
Making records and now taking back more control
I sincerely thank those who have already purchased it
We will get it out first thing tomorrow incl posters for lucky hundred
Finally to Thank skp people too who made it possible
Ie alleviating financial pressure enabling me to do this at all
Each one of you is a patron of the arts
That’s it you wont hear anything about it again for a long time
I guarantee it
And the next record is already almost waiting in the wings…
Love sk bondi beach 2013
see dee
wet saturday morning
still dont know whats going on with anything at all my girlfriend sams dad is going to pass away and shes there with him in brisbane and the way he is going is painful and dreadful it fills one with fear and anxiety i wish a sweet release for this most humble and kind of geezers i cant believe we must die like this there must be another way my dad went suddenly . bang. he was gone no hospitals no morphine no long drawn out agony sam is showing much much grace under pressure i cant believe she is remaining strong and calm therefore i am so proud of her i wish her dad could slip like a silver drop into the great ocean i beseech jesus krsna and buddha to let this man go let everybody off the hook i again thank krsna jesus and buddha (who are one n the same like we all are!) that my dad exited so quickly cos he of all people wouldve hated this …. what truly does it avail us all this jockeying for position n money n power? death is so close to everyone of us! why cant we learn? why cant we (i include me in spades) change our lives ? actualise compassion. be gentle! love each other and everyone death and sorrow all around us yet we live like theres no tomorrow jostling for my place in the heap not noticing until its too late dont bring one tiny bit more misery into my world please i dont need it i am not dealing with people who have a problem with me i confuse people because i’m such a genius n such a fool my sister in law wrote about this the other day that the people […]
always surrounded by chicas
still dont know whats going on with anything at all
my girlfriend sams dad is going to pass away
and shes there with him in brisbane
and the way he is going is painful and dreadful
it fills one with fear and anxiety
i wish a sweet release for this most humble and kind of geezers
i cant believe we must die like this
there must be another way
my dad went suddenly . bang. he was gone
no hospitals no morphine no long drawn out agony
sam is showing much much grace under pressure
i cant believe she is remaining strong and calm
therefore i am so proud of her
i wish her dad could slip like a silver drop into the great ocean
i beseech jesus krsna and buddha to let this man go
let everybody off the hook
i again thank krsna jesus and buddha (who are one n the same like we all are!)
that my dad exited so quickly cos he of all people wouldve hated this ….
what truly does it avail us all this jockeying for position n money n power?
death is so close to everyone of us!
why cant we learn?
why cant we (i include me in spades) change our lives ?
actualise compassion. be gentle! love each other and everyone
death and sorrow all around us yet we live like theres no tomorrow
jostling for my place in the heap not noticing until its too late
dont bring one tiny bit more misery into my world please
i dont need it
i am not dealing with people who have a problem with me
i confuse people because i’m such a genius n such a fool
my sister in law wrote about this the other day
that the people on the bus got upset because she was a “dreamy fool”
this world needs more dreamy fools
it needs less busyness and business
the world of men and the world in general
POST SCRIPT
SAMS DAD BILL DIED THIS MORNING AT 4.20 AM SAM WAS HOLDING HIS HAND AS HE SLIPPED AWAY.
i, dill
music lesson : self taut one day you just suddenly can do it one day when it all makes sense god speaks within your heart and the trees are all variegated the day you see how you want to play man youre a player now a real player play music to win or lose if my music was a car it would be a sunbeam alpine if my music was a cat it would be a black one if my music was a beast it would be a please-e-o-saur coming up from the deep for you one day another mad genius on some new drug will hear my work and understand the tininess and enormity of my music so close up so long ways off i have many good records left in me yet it amuses me to pump it all out all those songs what does it all mean? nothing i wrote a lotta songs thats all yeah a whole load of them so after writing all those songs… what? well you write some more more stuff coming at you i cant stop now i’m honour roll if you like slightly weird slightly subtle stuff only tho idyllist in every home i dont think so this are songs bout what happens when you fall thru those cracks a free fall baby a free free fall guitars appear jostling you like a crowd the bass intrudes like a big bad stranger the slippery sounds now unidentifiable mangled beyond recognition in some torture studio beaten into shape square pegs bashed into hexagony holes stuff going sidewards forwards backwards backwoods whatever the alienne did to me is sure holding tho holding me up and setting my sharp nose to the gryndestone sooner rather than later shuffle off this mongrel coiled son of […]
numbskull on mainstreet
music lesson : self taut
one day you just suddenly can do it
one day when it all makes sense
god speaks within your heart and the trees are all variegated
the day you see how you want to play
man youre a player now a real player
play music to win or lose
if my music was a car it would be a sunbeam alpine
if my music was a cat it would be a black one
if my music was a beast it would be a please-e-o-saur
coming up from the deep for you
one day another mad genius on some new drug will hear my work and understand
the tininess and enormity of my music
so close up so long ways off
i have many good records left in me yet
it amuses me to pump it all out
all those songs what does it all mean?
nothing
i wrote a lotta songs thats all
yeah a whole load of them
so after writing all those songs…
what?
well you write some more
more stuff coming at you
i cant stop now i’m honour roll
if you like slightly weird slightly subtle stuff only tho
idyllist in every home i dont think so
this are songs bout what happens when you fall thru those cracks
a free fall baby a free free fall
guitars appear jostling you like a crowd
the bass intrudes like a big bad stranger
the slippery sounds now unidentifiable
mangled beyond recognition in some torture studio
beaten into shape
square pegs bashed into hexagony holes
stuff going sidewards forwards backwards backwoods
whatever the alienne did to me is sure holding tho
holding me up and setting my sharp nose to the gryndestone
sooner rather than later shuffle off this mongrel coiled
son of a bitch song stuck in my head stoned
i’d love to turn on you
up here in my silent soft world pierced by birdsong vespers
up here as day fades away
sit here with song after song after song
time signatures treble clefts sammy davis quaver
music ? i got it by the yard
i’m working on my five album double box set
it will explain everything
it will all be included somehow
and then it will all be gone
idyllic rhubarb
was great to briefly top bandcamps charts the other day its very hard to listen to your own record n know what youve done sometimes it sounds great othertimes my concentration wanders yearning to start my next new thing so ive learnt a lot about music and logic and myself while making it ive learnt more than ever to have faith in my processes my processes always reveal a song eventually …a good song …. i dont always write songs the way you would imagine sometimes a tiny inkling leeds me thru a number of processes i dont understand in this way under my editorial control i let musical accidents happen i am very free with accidents much freer than anyone else you probably know on the other hand my in-built music computer only chooses the best accidental bits for re-assemby i am a witness to songs writing themselves more and more i chisel them out of silence or they fall in my lap i am happy with the technical quality its much much better than whatever you or i would have expected yet i like the loose sound of the whole thing i have strategies for negating the machineyness of things now i have more than ever it doesnt have to sound like that i have quite radical ideas that i apply across the board to my solo records here you can hear them in the hard left n right panning i want my music to disorient as well as fulfil…i hope it does that something else : altho getting old is a real drag believe me in this one respect its working out for me some other sense i have mentioned before so often has taken over and intervenes in my work i find it in music […]
puff daddy
was great to briefly top bandcamps charts the other day
its very hard to listen to your own record n know what youve done
sometimes it sounds great
othertimes my concentration wanders yearning to start my next new thing
so ive learnt a lot about music and logic and myself while making it
ive learnt more than ever to have faith in my processes
my processes always reveal a song eventually …a good song ….
i dont always write songs the way you would imagine
sometimes a tiny inkling leeds me thru a number of processes i dont understand
in this way under my editorial control i let musical accidents happen
i am very free with accidents much freer than anyone else you probably know
on the other hand my in-built music computer only chooses the best accidental bits for re-assemby
i am a witness to songs writing themselves more and more
i chisel them out of silence or they fall in my lap
i am happy with the technical quality
its much much better than whatever you or i would have expected
yet i like the loose sound of the whole thing
i have strategies for negating the machineyness of things
now i have more than ever
it doesnt have to sound like that
i have quite radical ideas that i apply across the board to my solo records
here you can hear them in the hard left n right panning
i want my music to disorient as well as fulfil…i hope it does that
something else : altho getting old is a real drag believe me
in this one respect its working out for me
some other sense i have mentioned before
so often has taken over and intervenes in my work
i find it in music painting and writing
some easy answers at last for artistic conundrums
i continue to move forward in understanding and trust
i think these songs will bring a big smile to your face
i think they will remind you of other songs
songs by me songs by others
they are supposed to i guess
its a tragicomedy its all mixed up
2 instrumentals to bookend the album
george e the noted conductor said
he admired the way i could play notes out of scale and yet make em fit
altho i dont see it that way of course
in some ways i just play by ear i suppose
i dont know anything about modality
some voice in my head just says yeah thats the right note
i dont appreciate where it fits with music theory
i taught myself everything
i taught myself bass guitar keyboards singing engineering mixing the lot
it was a long long process of trial and error
my mind is so stupid in some things
but so quick on the uptake on others
i perceived quickly the ways a person could make music on their own
i developed my own ways i tested my own theories
i wrote a thousand songs no one will ever hear (again)
i was honing my craft over the years
while other people watched sport or visited friends
i sat alone starting from scratch
i put baby grande behind me n started all over again
i re-learnt and re-appraised it all.
i figured out how my voice worked
i figured out how to make the most of my musical shortcomings
and i started to write the beginnings of the songs that you guys must like
or else why would you be reading this bullshit right now?
so we come to the idyllist
another solo album big deal
dont hold yer breath for the next church album tho
kilbey/kennedy coming atcha in april i hear …(a magnificent beast)
so why the idyllist?
and all i can really say is
i think it may make you smile for awhile
its silly its stupendous its preposterous its…cosmic rock…
its noisy its warm n cosy its out there its in here
how amazing i never succumbed to her-0 in
and i’m still around doing this
fucking enthusiasm…man its there in buckets..its gushing vim…
it aint no tired old lame brain kilbey by numbers
it contains all my obsessions beatle dylan bowie bolan floyd etc
its derivative and original at the same time
i love those contradictions
its messy and accomplished
its everything its nothing
plus theres some good singalong numbers
if you wanna hear someone unwearied by age here i am
at almost sixty i have experience and enthusiasm
that is the idyllist
smart enough to know better you could say….
if youve already heard it and would like to review it
in the comments please be my guest
idyll list
well you can get it right now in fact here i am shamelessly touting my latest record “trying to earn a living off an LPs worth of tunes” my new record…. its a win / win situation i need the $ you need the !? its that simple i’m quite prepared to guarantee you like it or i’ll beat my words have a listen its music to have a laugh to its available now SKPers getting codes tomorrow cd ships in about a week god willing i’m excited i think when you hear this you’ll be surprised by the dualities it contains its never all of just one thing variety pack you got rockers you got ballads you got your noise and your tunes you got sitar viola fender jazz bass tambourine guild 12 ac you got your reverb fuzz mist and smoke you got your pop song your rock song your folk song your joke song you got yer vox humanis you got your footstomp and thunderclap you got yer silly sad stupid symphonic bits the screechy scratchy guitars the plumping bass baby yeah some sexiness in the bass department (one hopes) man i can fucking strangle a guitar (one trusts) dude i rock like freaking mofo on angelfruit (its implied at least) i am a student and master of this thing now still learning still gotta long way to go this is a new day for my music back to the purity of my solo records from the 80s (thats a contradiction) this record is comfortingly strange and wildly familiar the simplicity and the complexity will astound you i keep squeezing blood from those same old stones then i break away into new lands new atmospherics its hard to review it i just listened to it all […]
oh no baby
well you can get it right now in fact
here i am shamelessly touting my latest record
“trying to earn a living off an LPs worth of tunes”
my new record…. its a win / win situation
i need the $
you need the !?
its that simple i’m quite prepared to guarantee you like it
or i’ll beat my words
have a listen
its music to have a laugh to
its available now
SKPers getting codes tomorrow
cd ships in about a week god willing
i’m excited
i think when you hear this you’ll be surprised by the dualities it contains
its never all of just one thing
variety pack
you got rockers you got ballads you got your noise and your tunes
you got sitar viola fender jazz bass tambourine guild 12 ac
you got your reverb fuzz mist and smoke
you got your pop song your rock song your folk song your joke song
you got yer vox humanis you got your footstomp and thunderclap
you got yer silly sad stupid symphonic bits
the screechy scratchy guitars the plumping bass baby yeah
some sexiness in the bass department (one hopes)
man i can fucking strangle a guitar (one trusts)
dude i rock like freaking mofo on angelfruit (its implied at least)
i am a student and master of this thing now
still learning
still gotta long way to go
this is a new day for my music
back to the purity of my solo records from the 80s
(thats a contradiction)
this record is comfortingly strange and wildly familiar
the simplicity and the complexity will astound you
i keep squeezing blood from those same old stones
then i break away into new lands new atmospherics its hard to review it
i just listened to it all the way thru on the headphones for the first time
i hear its minor triumphs and failures
i see in deeper meaning in shallow shoals of sound
the idyllist is a good record
i shouldnae have sold it short
it is a good record and it has good vibrations
some new stylisations some old tricks and hi jinks
the idyllist
i proudly present it to you all
check this out