The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

http://www.empiretouring.com.au/events/dueting-it-for-the-kids/state-theatre-sydney

Steve Kilbey will be performing a duet with Wendy Matthews.

Stars of the Australian music industry to shine in aid of The Australian Children’s Music Foundation  

Dueting it for the Kids is a unique concert unlike anything else staged in Australia. This event brings together the cream of the recording and concert industry – both legends and newcomers – in a concert of duets with proceeds going to The Australian Children’s Music Foundation (ACMF).

The concert is being held at the State Theatre on Monday 22nd August.  The line-up is phenomenal with performances from artists including Marina Prior, John Waters, Caroline O’Connor, Jessica Mauboy, Lee Kernaghan, Diesel, Antoinette Halloran, Catherine Britt, Danielle Spencer, Dave Faulkner, Debra Byrne, Doug Parkinson, Leo Sayer, Murray Cook, Peter Northcote, Ross Wilson, Steve Balbi, Don Spencer, Steve Kilbey, Tim Freedman, Wendy Matthews, Glenn Shorrock and more to be announced. The MC’s for this extravaganza will be Adam Spencer and James Valentine from 702 ABC Sydney.

All funds raised at this event go towards music programs that the ACMF run for disadvantaged and Indigenous youth across Australia.  The Foundation was established in 2002 by Don Spencer OAM in response to the fact that over 75% of public schools in Australia no longer have a specialty music teacher.  “Each week, our incredible teachers provide music education for children who, in many cases, have suffered severe physical and emotional abuse almost impossible to comprehend.  Through music we bring joy, enhance imagination and creativity and give these children the chance to dream”.

Tickets are $120 A reserve/$99 B reserve (transaction fees may apply).  To book tickets, please go to www.ticketmaster.com.au or phone 136 100.

For more information about the ACMF, please visit www.acmf.com.au

endymion jones

the moon in transit van morrison escapes the orbit club in miami france

brave headed the swan i was to become

my axe which have serveth me fine and lonely-sharp

the sentinel upon yonder hill has fed all day on chlorophyl

this great charge of mind persuades almost everyone sooner

a solar contusion exfoliated star space has peeled back

we stand on the inner threshold to choose or reject deleria

voices may be heard filled with sweet temptations

oh who could resist those promises

mozart maybe can still save me oh boy i bet hes glad i’m not bach

i pretend im not deaf  a homeless soldier for tune for hire

i wander in 18th century austria in my bondi board shorts

you fucking freak says liszt all them groupies are mine

hang on hang on boys says billy debussy theres enough public domain for all of us

hes right says strindberg smoking a big hit of angelfruit

hey youre no composer… ! says jean paul sartre in his silly accent

watch your step frenchie…bellows big dick wagner the german opera geezer

guys guys guys im saying help me here

i’m doing this thing called rocknroll its from the frickin’ future…

ah…the future….says ludde beethoven sadly

get with it man ! says  a voice  its marc chagall calling in on his blackberry

the graininess on the photo makes it look like some dusky florence in arabia

my image thus captured i make myself sick on white and honeycomb

stay tuned

or follow my adventures via spirit telegram

horagogic impasto

sunday morning coming down down down

the human race in absurd reduction

the coffee the newspapers the fucking eggs n bacon

the sight seers the home makers the heart breakers

the elevators the escalators

where the fuck do ya think youd be without all this stuff?

cars roar round the corner radios blaring doof doof doof

i got my intranet i got my x-phone i got my implants

i got my reverse gated community i got my syndrome i got my bias

i got my stringless attachment and my wireless hooks

i got my blah blah blah and my such n such

my head is aching because my brain is too big

swollen up like a sponge i suck in 21st century

nail me up with your bad reviews

exonerate me with thy kindest words

buy my records

i dont understand anymore what they were supposed to be

i walk in the shadow of changes

i come in the absence of saviour

i exist as some kinda temporary ….

my life is this dream

and youre dreaming along

dont wake up too soon

dont sleep too long

http://www.amoeba.com/whats-in-my-bag/index.html#/detail/2011-08-13_marty-willson-piper

Marty Willson-Piper graciously agreed to be featured in an ongoing series called “What’s In My Bag?” where we talk to artists about what they found shopping at Amoeba.

Newsletter 8th September 2011 Red Hill Perth announcement

Newsletter 23rd September 2011 ReverbNation tunepak

smacked actor

that stupid fucking zephyr

with his miraculous sustain and the vibrato of a hemi moor

down with constantine drinking hemlock cups

a scene from an early work in black and in white

man he could play

ma’am he could lay

he could lay his hands on the neck of an old idol

summoning rock before christ

the good samaritan well his whispered words are morphine

the angel of mercy with her tattoo of the moon

the herald of doom laughing all the way to the future

the frenzied monks and the bleeding freaks

i represent the fallen and the weak

my stash is a legend my hotel on drums

and they stage armageddon and no bastard comes

and the technical requirements are a mike and a ray

and the dimensions irrelevant its always today

hey kids remember how samson brought the house down

i saw apollo slay the crowd in detroit

zephyr with his velvet hair

concealed amidst the budding groves

t’was spring my lady as the flowers mingled with the ashes

the graveyard over looking the sea so silent but you were alone

wonder if i’ll be waiting for you as they hammer up my house in heaven

zorro the foxy spanish lover and his dreaming sword

byrd fleming who flew to the sun

icarus crook with his synch and his hook

the gentlest touch will  take us all there

oh lordy numb like a number one hit

this babylon stuff why its cut with some shit

this desert before you is the realer mirage

this morning the ache of the evening before

the revolving cosmos was trapped in my skull

a weird little mannikin appeared through a curtain

dressed all in finery from some rococo antiquity

an angry little fucker and possessor of a few nasty spells

magic is whatever you lack at that moment

magic is asking a favour of nature

magic is coming back from the living

baby have me over your ziggurat more often

you know i will meet you by the pool of eternal remembrance

where the reflections of the slain are black in its depths

and the virgins who drowned were eaten by sea snakes

zephyr took a gig and traded memory for speed

oh man he came tumbling out of his olympian summer

yeah i love the naked maenads but their kisses are bitter

oh jesus resurrected with divine electricity

oh son of man see your song linger on and on

oh they killed you for nothing

no one could understand

you were just a cool cat in a wrong time n land

the guys in the group are leaderless tonight

the audiences of apothecaries and alchemists to see how its done

the grim brothers lost in their own arthur rackham forest

the castle where the disgusting monster sleeps chained

the king of ethiopia speaks such perfect crocodile

the maestro of transformers (such an irony) frozen in flux

a grotesque little goblin fallen into money

still his nose is a pigs and his voice is an asses

his headlock on luck is draining my spine

3 sisters appear in frame left untitled

their names neatly printed in fading blurred ink

jezebel the eldest with the black eyes of a zebra

maria the second mother of lambs

and finally joanie who got her own ark

and the animal men went in two by two

the goat and the bear and the ox and the boar

all of these stories and much more

at the time being these days

who knows whats in store …..

goliath samson

vestiges of the dawn world remain

the continents rise and fall

the seas change colour and saltiness

humans grow bigger

man grows smaller

the earth intercepts the suns warmth

the moon in shadow surrounded by blue

the birds settle down for the evening

thrush towards brook

lark towards sky

the weather is coldly warm

the buildings drift overnight

the flotilla of clouds races away

where the moss and broken bricks are

and the flowery weeds and rusted tins

the hopes the disappointments

the unending nagging voices

one to lead you astray

the other to make sure you stay that way

gordian knot

instant fervent glorious baptism in white wasteland

the musicians have all passed out

the cards all undealt

the beers in the fridge

slosh it all down

go unto the night as a child would

the notes in the songs correspond to stars

eight flames in eastern dark

the minstrel crashes into the audience

i sing the songs of the dead

the real and the imaginary

i sing the songs written by waiters and housewives

i arrange the cobwebs and the dew

i orchestrate the floral dominions where mission fainted in joy

mustardseed and poppy

indica into rose into swollen purple headed evening clouds

my music falling down around me like glowing ashes

we pack up our lutes in our utes and usually some disputed flute

i sit at a red table with a silver fork

women of whitest flesh and blackest clothes

peppermint and lavender then

mandrake rooted in mansuit

henbane beltane

morgoth black christ angel in conflicto delicto

the sides collide i ride along on my song

this song lifts me up

this song lets me down

this song never sing in this part of town

my planets arrive

each one orbiting a guitar fixture

aliens abound man in my deepest spine

an abyss of cosmic secret darkness

one day you will plummet it i am so sure

until then the hum of the stars

and the searing loss of time elapsed

anglo-saxon archetype

our four fathers further off

some brilliant ancestor with limed twigs

the history of world upon world

some other man now breaks through out of me

leaving his memories behind in this mind

a shattered mirror of impressions

a dark secret controlling almost everything

a schema for encoding response

a mistrust of measurement

a void of marine desert

a ceremony inverted in on itself meaning an opposite

my fingers curl round black nails

my wolf teeth my sloth claws

my hide beaten from silvered skin

man hunts man in the red dawn of prehistories inconclusive spats

names change meanings fade

the gods in all their forms and equivalents

and  demons set free by the ruthless twin pursuits of  buy and sell

we are shoeless in one eden

we are refused service in the next

our allusions are detached

our delusions are attached

tomorrow : more except not as good