fish
my hand dealt by your hand queen of clubs goes on the king of dope the jack of all trades goes on the red car pet the knave of rolex between the suits my brain stuffed full of memory someone write down the score ok ok i’m jus’ warming up the words will flow you cant force the process you know its easter sunday surely the day itself is in hearts i’m steve kilbey in spades the kitten is the two of clubs and scarlet kilbey is some red queen the game of life starts by all players being dealt out their hands oh man you gotta play the hand thats dealt ya ok no one is agreeing on the game either i thought after a foul i got 2 free goes or could jump to a square n get crowned n be a king in tyrus just for the night crowned in crown street downed in the high street i move through diagonals i think unseen i glimpse at your cards oh no i am not afraid to cheat oh i’d like to move your pieces oh i’d like to see your 6s and 7s oh i’d like to know where yer knights gonna go i get all mixed up secretly the queen of spades gets passed back n forth between the players its the maximum penalty she is a lethal lady she is anathema to a real player thanks you bastard says some unlucky sod as i slip him black queen i’m sorry man …i begin yeah yeah says the player…you dont look fuckin’ sorry i smirk behind my sunglasses then black queen goes straight for ace of diamonds you bastard says another player as black queen comes out she lays on the table looking up at you […]
plummet in some seamless night
my hand dealt by your hand
queen of clubs goes on the king of dope
the jack of all trades goes on the red car pet
the knave of rolex between the suits
my brain stuffed full of memory
someone write down the score
ok ok i’m jus’ warming up
the words will flow
you cant force the process you know
its easter sunday surely the day itself is in hearts
i’m steve kilbey in spades
the kitten is the two of clubs
and scarlet kilbey is some red queen
the game of life starts by all players being dealt out their hands
oh man you gotta play the hand thats dealt ya
ok no one is agreeing on the game either
i thought after a foul i got 2 free goes
or could jump to a square n get crowned n be a king in tyrus
just for the night
crowned in crown street
downed in the high street
i move through diagonals i think unseen
i glimpse at your cards
oh no i am not afraid to cheat
oh i’d like to move your pieces
oh i’d like to see your 6s and 7s
oh i’d like to know where yer knights gonna go
i get all mixed up
secretly the queen of spades gets passed back n forth between the players
its the maximum penalty
she is a lethal lady
she is anathema to a real player
thanks you bastard says some unlucky sod as i slip him black queen
i’m sorry man …i begin
yeah yeah says the player…you dont look fuckin’ sorry
i smirk behind my sunglasses then
black queen goes straight for ace of diamonds
you bastard says another player as black queen comes out
she lays on the table looking up at you
go on she says goading you on
kinda hard to tell her age
go on she says
if youre man enough
fuck this i rifle through my hand
the joker screams at me from behind the 9 of wands
the other players have responded with their big guns
unable to contain my triumph i lay down joker with a small scream
fuck you where’d ya get that from ? says one of the players
‘e’s gotta fuckin’ mortgage on the fuckin’ joker! says another angrily
black queen goes thru em like dominos going down
but you played your one n only joker now what…?
the other players have upped the ante
the bets are obscene
one folds like a deck chair
another jumps over men in an L shape
its simple he says
no dealer no drama
i shuffle i huff
i suddenly in on a bluff
i play rough
i never feel i got enough
zeitgeist? tough!
yeah its all froth n bits o’fluff
until the hard stuff
creampuff
man woman life death infinity
the truth aint out there somewhere sitting like a continent waiting to be dis-covered the truth is so elusive appearing in is myriad disguises at funerals at bars at the going down of the sun why do you do the things that you do ? says someone someone in another room who am i? i turn to say i was hoping you could tell me until i meet up with someone so sweetly complete perhaps this reflection i see will belong to me my blood throbs in my chest my thoughts course thru my brain part beast part star part stupid oaf we are series of reactions to external stimulii resolving contradictions i am destined to believe only in chance love from life to life life from star to star beast star oaf is zero sacred? nothing would look good on you you understand it effortlessly good beyond good somehow you remain quite bad bad to the bone apart in a fickle world you remain mercurial in good fridays happinesses and sadnesses the day they murdered such a gentle man the hammer the nail the splint’ring wood the screams of man this part i still dont understand humanity torturing itself oh and i hope margot has met jesus by now i hope shes talking his reddish-blond lovely curls off i hope shes made a few suggestions about some more bottle shops up there and sought out some famous dead guitarists and demanded a chord progression i hope shes just like our margot but without the pain without the fear i hope shes just like our margot with strange gorgeous words escaping her lips i hope shes just like our margot walking and talking with jesus next day margot deep in the forest round vrindavan she hears krsnas flute drifting from […]
blow
the truth aint out there somewhere
sitting like a continent waiting to be dis-covered
the truth is so elusive
appearing in is myriad disguises
at funerals at bars at the going down of the sun
why do you do the things that you do ? says someone
someone in another room
who am i? i turn to say
i was hoping you could tell me
until i meet up with someone so sweetly complete
perhaps this reflection i see will belong to me
my blood throbs in my chest
my thoughts course thru my brain
part beast part star part stupid oaf
we are series of reactions to external stimulii
resolving contradictions
i am destined to believe only in chance
love from life to life
life from star to star
beast star oaf
is zero sacred?
nothing would look good on you
you understand it effortlessly
good beyond good somehow you remain quite bad
bad to the bone apart
in a fickle world you remain mercurial
in good fridays happinesses and sadnesses
the day they murdered such a gentle man
the hammer the nail the splint’ring wood
the screams of man
this part i still dont understand
humanity torturing itself
oh and i hope margot has met jesus by now
i hope shes talking his reddish-blond lovely curls off
i hope shes made a few suggestions about some more bottle shops up there
and sought out some famous dead guitarists and demanded a chord progression
i hope shes just like our margot but without the pain without the fear
i hope shes just like our margot with strange gorgeous words escaping her lips
i hope shes just like our margot walking and talking with jesus
next day margot deep in the forest round vrindavan
she hears krsnas flute drifting from the hidden lake
oh margot i can see you
your eyes filled with delight
you so pale in your sari
you so glowing in your sartori
and margot sings along to the divine music of india
her voice fills the glades in its mellifluous wordless singing sigh
so i leave her there among the swans
i leave her there amongst the lotuses and her companions
far from the crematorium at the edge of the eastern suburbs
far from the coffin and the flowers
little sister we did all love you
your poor family, little singer
could they understand your torments and obsessions
i turn angrily to my jesus who stands here on good friday
my jesus that i painted with the gold guitar back in the imperial avenue days
my jesus with the groovy hair and beard of stars
my jesus with tears in his eyes maybe i see
yeah i loved margot smith too he says in his most beautiful voice
i love all of em he says nibbling on a cadburys hollow chocolate egg
whats with all the rabbits n eggs ? i ask him
symbolism he smiles and sighs …kinda obfuscated things a little
i always felt rotten having a holiday the day they nailed ya up…..!
confusing isnt it……jesus and his beatific smile
suffer the little children …did margot ever sing that?
it was a lovely day for margots goodbye
goodbye goodbye goodbye
sunny but with a cool wind
out here in this windswept southern coast
far from england far from ireland
margot no more DTs no more morphine patches
no more assaults when you were using the bathroom
margot no more hospitals no more disappointments
margot fly away from this earth now
oh you are free beyond freedom
oh your songs now fill the future and your words are winged like birds
yet i feel your presence in this room
bereavement on multiple fronts
i grieve for nazareth for venice and vienna
i mourn my babylon i mourn my mornings in distant melbourne
in an english garden crying like a phantom in the sun
in america the new world bargaining a million acres for a mirror
a rich roman widow sobbing amidst her vines
you are lost my reader lost in this tangle of inklings
so you switch on your new sat-nav machine
you have a choice of voices but you choose the one marked SK
the machine come on with cough that clears a throat
how are ya ? says the voice
refuckingcalculating says the voice
oh boy youre really lost arent ya? says the voice
its good friday too says the voice
and i dont quite frankly fuckin’ know where you are says the voice
left or right its all the same to me says the voice
it good friday and the tourists are pouring into bondi says the voice
wanna avoid the future its undergoing repairs
wanna avoid the past…theres been an accident ….
take the present until you reach the end
the end aint the end i’m sure says the voice
then you go on n on n on n on
you will change
you will grow
you will encounter unbearable pain n pleasure
until……says the voice
until……
until what ?! you angrily ask
until….fuck i dont know…..! says the voice
but by then youve turned into the drive
and youre safely home
and youre just a tiny tiny child
so safe in the familys bosom
and good friday
lingers dreamlike seconds slowed down
something you will always remember
white shadow
its one of those white days suddenly a sweet aching deep sadness sweeps down around us so many of these white days walking round a sandbar lagoon with karin in 1986 up near my mothers old place an endless white day we felt lonely together then the rocks the gulls the absence of wind or temperature eventually a fine mist filled the air i talked my head off about nothing as usual she said very little at all there was no one else for miles i was still quite young then accelerating towards now the years disappear….well what else could they fucking do….? a black cat crossed my broken mirror yeah as i begin to pick up speed you see i wanna have my life and live it too at the back of my mothers old house at smiths lake you walked down a hill said to be crawling with snakes until you came to a little creek at the bottom and a log to cross the creek to a sandy little lagoon beach or a small lake fed by the tide that broke through and filled it up and so you walked round the side of the lake until you came to a caravan park quite empty most the year and beyond that some abandoned equipment n empty workers cabins then you go through a small car park into dense cool jungle the brown roots writhe about the sharp branches scratch your legs suddenly youre through and youre on a windswept dune and the green pacific ocean hammers an endless white beach white like today is white warm white still the music is a distant saw or hammer and the drone of traffic sadness grief helplessness hopelessness worst of all emptiness an empty day in an empty life it […]
just let them try to stitch that shadow back that i stole from you
its one of those white days
suddenly a sweet aching deep sadness sweeps down around us
so many of these white days
walking round a sandbar lagoon with karin in 1986
up near my mothers old place
an endless white day we felt lonely together then
the rocks the gulls the absence of wind or temperature
eventually a fine mist filled the air
i talked my head off about nothing as usual
she said very little at all
there was no one else for miles
i was still quite young then accelerating towards now
the years disappear….well what else could they fucking do….?
a black cat crossed my broken mirror
yeah as i begin to pick up speed
you see i wanna have my life and live it too
at the back of my mothers old house at smiths lake
you walked down a hill said to be crawling with snakes
until you came to a little creek at the bottom
and a log to cross the creek to a sandy little lagoon beach
or a small lake fed by the tide that broke through and filled it up
and so you walked round the side of the lake
until you came to a caravan park quite empty most the year
and beyond that some abandoned equipment n empty workers cabins
then you go through a small car park into dense cool jungle
the brown roots writhe about
the sharp branches scratch your legs
suddenly youre through and youre on a windswept dune
and the green pacific ocean hammers an endless white beach
white like today is white
warm white still
the music is a distant saw or hammer and the drone of traffic
sadness grief helplessness hopelessness
worst of all emptiness
an empty day in an empty life
it aint no bed of roses
it aint all dancing on clouds
its just a white day and then its quite quiet
you sit at the table
out one window its white
out another the white has melted in to yellow and grey shapes
i shake like an earthquake
stop must be a sugar drop
keep thinking about margot smith
i bet shes enjoying it
if anyone can margot can
leaving this white day far behind
i bet shes enjoying it
you imagine her now free spirit soaring
you see her in some happy place
and we’re young and its summer and its a white day
margot walking down the street in surry hills after recording a vocal
1991 and its fading into white
on soft nights you ride a white horse in complex dreams
starboard under green leaves it motionless
the white day of this one life
a sadness you should have healed
a brief roman candle
hotels loom and disappear
unending check-in in miami or helsinki or bologna
on a white day aslan created narnia
and he sang it all into being
but always some evil has entered the world
and the white days become cold
and winter waiting for you at the end of the line
and magic fades from the earth
on white still days at airports where you cry and cry
on white still days at appointments in the city
on white still days watching someone getting married by the harbour
on white still days with your twins in rockpools and motels
on white still days with your brothers n father in batehaven
dad buy us some chips dad buy us some fizzy drinks
dad his ice cream is bigger than mine
dad can i have a comic as well
dad can i have a yo yo
white still day
still white
still still
a grey dirty smear towards the north
i start to fear all possible futures
i start to cling to the present but god its so slippery
white still day still slipping by 3 oclock 4 oclock 5 oclock
i cant hold on the day falls headlong into afternoon and evening
it gets darker quicker
i’m lost in there somewhere
unable to explain myself or my deeds
waking up groggy missing my plane
my money i used up just writing this line
still white day
white it all out
whiter than the whitest white
envelope
the waning moon sinks into my little poem here gloria warm nocturne the street is decorated like a play all the troupes of actors jostle through the emptiness the tents fluttering pennants heralding the crests of dragon and beast the mountains around decked in flower and bloom magnificent cloud flies like a slow arrow piercing the skies reality the drum of yesterday still faint on the horizon with everso sleepy eyes i regard oncoming darkening days but tonight my cocoon holds me numbish warm a light comes on a door opens in a house somebody stands there my mind is pleasantly blank except for this blurb which oozes out of my thoughts this one broken thread derailed train of thought i dont like the moving shadow says scarlet the human creature outside the air has gone balmy some bird still sings in the background the purple glow of someones tv somewhere a car drives off a silvery blur on a quiet street oh my quickening brain hastens for a feed in the central block of darkness yes……. a shadow moves ……. oh those white frangipanis their perfume rides the zephyr astride my mind shivers in its box everyone inside i hear a voice say in my heartless heart its just an echo from a dawn its just a dash down a wire i shake my head what was that? the human creature laughs i told you already! she says in a gurgling voice so i dont ask again
crank hall
the waning moon sinks into my little poem here
gloria warm nocturne
the street is decorated like a play
all the troupes of actors jostle through the emptiness
the tents fluttering pennants heralding the crests of dragon and beast
the mountains around decked in flower and bloom
magnificent cloud flies like a slow arrow piercing the skies reality
the drum of yesterday still faint on the horizon
with everso sleepy eyes i regard oncoming darkening days
but tonight my cocoon holds me numbish warm
a light comes on
a door opens in a house
somebody stands there
my mind is pleasantly blank
except for this blurb which oozes out of my thoughts
this one broken thread derailed train of thought
i dont like the moving shadow says scarlet the human creature
outside the air has gone balmy
some bird still sings in the background
the purple glow of someones tv somewhere
a car drives off
a silvery blur on a quiet street
oh my quickening brain hastens for a feed
in the central block of darkness
yes……. a shadow moves …….
oh those white frangipanis their perfume rides the zephyr astride
my mind shivers in its box
everyone inside i hear a voice say in my heartless heart
its just an echo from a dawn
its just a dash down a wire
i shake my head
what was that?
the human creature laughs
i told you already! she says in a gurgling voice
so
i dont ask again
Press Release : “A Psychedelic Symphony” Sydney Opera House
the church return to Australia on Sunday April 10th 2011 to perform “A Psychedelic Symphony”, a very special concert presented by International Music Concepts and held at the iconic Sydney Opera House. The band will perform a selection of their greatest musical moments of the last 31 years alongside 67 young and vibrant players from the Sydney University Symphony Orchestra conducted by the irrepressible George Ellis. Featuring 3 talented soloists – Patti Hood on concert harp, from Joshua Tree, California, Sophie Collins on cello, based in deepest darkest Western Australia and local renowned musician Johnny Zwartz on double bass. Shelley Harland and Tiare Helberg feature on silvery backing vocals, established multi instrumentalist Craig Wilson completes the line up. It has now been a year and a half of constant touring, celebrating the band’s 30th anniversary and performing their latest album Untitled #23 (featuring Patti, Sophie and Shelley). In April 2010 the band toured “An Intimate Space” in the USA playing a song from each of their albums in reverse chronological order, giving away a program and free CD of even more new material. In October 2010 the band were inducted into the ARIA Hall Of Fame and toured “An Intimate Space” in November and December in Australia. This was followed by the “Future Past Perfect” Tour in the USA playing Starfish, Priest=Aura and Untitled #23 in their entirety with another free program and a three and a half hour show of captivating music that mesmerized the sell out crowds. With three EP’s: Pangaea, Operetta and Deadman’s Hand now released from Untitled #23 on their own Unorthodox label through MGM, the band have already begun work on a new album expected to be released in 2012. In the meantime EMI Records have followed up the stylishly packaged back catalogue. (Of Skins […]
the church return to Australia on Sunday April 10th 2011 to perform “A Psychedelic Symphony”, a very special concert presented by International Music Concepts and held at the iconic Sydney Opera House.
The band will perform a selection of their greatest musical moments of the last 31 years alongside 67 young and vibrant players from the Sydney University Symphony Orchestra conducted by the irrepressible George Ellis. Featuring 3 talented soloists – Patti Hood on concert harp, from Joshua Tree, California, Sophie Collins on cello, based in deepest darkest Western Australia and local renowned musician Johnny Zwartz on double bass. Shelley Harland and Tiare Helberg feature on silvery backing vocals, established multi instrumentalist Craig Wilson completes the line up.
It has now been a year and a half of constant touring, celebrating the band’s 30th anniversary and performing their latest album Untitled #23 (featuring Patti, Sophie and Shelley). In April 2010 the band toured “An Intimate Space” in the USA playing a song from each of their albums in reverse chronological order, giving away a program and free CD of even more new material. In October 2010 the band were inducted into the ARIA Hall Of Fame and toured “An Intimate Space” in November and December in Australia. This was followed by the “Future Past Perfect” Tour in the USA playing Starfish, Priest=Aura and Untitled #23 in their entirety with another free program and a three and a half hour show of captivating music that mesmerized the sell out crowds.
With three EP’s: Pangaea, Operetta and Deadman’s Hand now released from Untitled #23 on their own Unorthodox label through MGM, the band have already begun work on a new album expected to be released in 2012. In the meantime EMI Records have followed up the stylishly packaged back catalogue. (Of Skins And Heart 1981, The Blurred Crusade 1982, Seance 1983 and Heyday 1985) with a double-disc Starfish 1988, just released and including rarities and outtakes. The releases also include unseen photos and extensive, revealing sleeve notes written by Marty Willson-Piper.
Seeing the church – Steve Kilbey, Peter Koppes, Tim Powles and Marty Willson-Piper in this spectacular setting is an event not to be missed – a one-off celebratory concert focusing on the most illustrious of careers and performing a wealth of material from their deep catalogue.
Recent Concert Reviews Have Been Outstanding:
“The band thrilled ardent followers by weaving musical spells full of grand gestures, menacing atmosphere and stratospheric radiance.”
– Jeff Elbel Chicago Sun Times February 2011
“Textures. Beyond the brilliant songwriting, it’s the sonic textures that make the church my favorite band on the planet. You can tell how much attention they pay to getting the right sound for every song. A dazzling blend of guitar tones from Peter Koppes and Marty Willson-Piper, astute drumming by Tim Powles and sharp bass playing from Steve Kilbey waxes and wanes from melodic to dissonant to ethereal and back again; it’s stunning ensemble work that frames Kilbey’s distinctive baritone voice as he intones a rush of imaginative lyrics that wander from wry to surreal: the church sound like no other band, and create a memorable flow of music that resonates deep in my brain.”
– Anton A, Tantalized (Review of Highline Ballroom and BB Kings Shows in NYC)
Reviews of “Untitled #23” have also been exceptional around the world:
Rolling Stone Australia gave the album an unprecedented 5 star review.
“A stunningly ambitious album of shimmering rock.”
Rolling Stone USA in Fricke’s Picks,
“A genuine milestone in longevity and psychedelic invention.”
Classic Rock UK
“What is on offer – aside from a masterpiece of dynamics and craft – is the irresistible sound of integrity.”
The Age
“It’s a haunting, dark, thrilling, ecstatic, melodic psychedelic journey in ten unforgettable pieces. “
Beat Magazine
“Untitled #23 is kaleidoscopic but accessible, tightly focused psych-pop brilliance.”
Sydney Morning Herald
“Sparkling electric poetry from some guitar-shaped hole in the universe.” ****
For more information please contact:
BRIAN MCDONALD AT RiSH PUBLICITY
T +61 418 604 844 or 0418 604 844
E brian.mcdonald@rishpublicity.com
Skype brianrish
A Goldsborough Mort 420/243 Pyrmont Street Pyrmont NSW 2009 Australia
W www.rishpublicity.com | www.rishrecords.com
Unorthodox Press Release April 2011
margot smith rip
margot died yesterday i guess it had to happen fucking alcohol claims another victim destroyed her god given talent fucked her liver up nice and good fucked her voice and fucked her mind yeah and me always too busy to talk she’d ring me up not now margot im so fucking bizzy havin’ an argument not now margot i’m so fucking preoccupied with my own bullshit margot came down to our last rehearsal with the orch a skinny figure down the back dancing n singing along swaying in her blitzed out way all pale n gaunt like a weird woman like someone from the middle ages she looked that last n final day yeah we’ll catch up soon i said as i rushed off to the next important thing…. we were organising a gig for her may 22 she was gonna have a superstar band n everything but i was always too busy to talk tho i had pledged my time to the project anyway life finished her off they say she may have died relatively peacefully relatively quickly watch that word “relatively” tho when your liver is packing it in after years of alcohol abuse relatively is a relative term i hope she didnt feel no fucken pain i hope she drifted out of this sad n rotten world on a soft breeze this vale of tears this veil of tears she called herself my sister i wasnt much of a brother tho bizzy busy bizzy i was always so busy bizzy yeah i’ll catch up with ya soon little sister i’d say now shes gone did she know how much i couldnt bear to see what she’d done to herself with the fuckin’ booze with the fuckin’ cigs…? mind you she was elegantly wasted a real damsel in […]
margot died yesterday
i guess it had to happen
fucking alcohol claims another victim
destroyed her god given talent
fucked her liver up nice and good
fucked her voice and fucked her mind
yeah and me
always too busy to talk
she’d ring me up
not now margot im so fucking bizzy havin’ an argument
not now margot i’m so fucking preoccupied with my own bullshit
margot came down to our last rehearsal with the orch
a skinny figure down the back dancing n singing along
swaying in her blitzed out way
all pale n gaunt like a weird woman
like someone from the middle ages she looked that last n final day
yeah we’ll catch up soon i said as i rushed off to the next important thing….
we were organising a gig for her may 22
she was gonna have a superstar band n everything
but i was always too busy to talk tho i had pledged my time to the project
anyway life finished her off
they say she may have died relatively peacefully relatively quickly
watch that word “relatively” tho
when your liver is packing it in after years of alcohol abuse
relatively is a relative term
i hope she didnt feel no fucken pain
i hope she drifted out of this sad n rotten world on a soft breeze
this vale of tears
this veil of tears
she called herself my sister
i wasnt much of a brother tho
bizzy busy bizzy i was always so busy bizzy
yeah i’ll catch up with ya soon little sister i’d say
now shes gone
did she know how much i couldnt bear to see what she’d done to herself
with the fuckin’ booze with the fuckin’ cigs…?
mind you she was elegantly wasted
a real damsel in distress
she was gutsy she was feisty she was a real fighter
but the filthy rotten poisonous grog killed her slow
she went down in agony over decades
as it stripped her first
everytime you say you want to die i cant remember what you said
of one thing n another
i hate alcohol
i hate what it does
this woman shoulda been singing for another 3 decades
sad day
sad song
sad man
sad tragic inevitable useless pointless waste of a rare and fabulous gift
margot i’m sorry i was so fucking hectically impossibly busy
too busy to chat to ya for ten minutes
i hope heaven treats ya better than earth
if you come back again bring that lovely voice to this earth
margot you were one hell of a singer n writer
why did it have to fucking well end like this?
erupture
my mind is a seething lava lover i’m on the boil dreaming up fresh mischief cruel coz i cant abide cruelty everyone is in my sights bang bang bang a world wore one ace i strode this old stage before they assembled you from new atoms i was here before you and without you in this asphalt eden in this hour of scraper tower these mean average streets i was snorting hook and shooting up a river while your universe still in its infancy drifted around your mother stars inchoately free (you had not yet met me ) and delighting comets shot thru your sky and terrible devils delved in your earth i heard you howl once from these one score years i put it down to morpheus my misguiding light the white lady all those promises had me jagged when all she really wanted was to get me by the balls nevertheless i seem to digress i cant do 18th century quite like byron shelley remember him i think you had him once i’m sure he writhed in loves embrace with some ridiculous face ah men and the women who love ’em if i was women i wouldnt love me i’d love some rich apollo from galilee i’d love some gorgeous fucking hunk oooh what a chunk…! i wouldnt love me or most of them jerks that work the bars hearing that same old slop some beer swilling clown shouting at a screen some ignorant oik some philistine prick some tattooed musclebound macho dick crinkly greasy little blond curls his nostrils hideously spread from sniffin’ the air for gurls his narrow parochial middling world yeah chug it darlin’ chug your ale you brain of snail you door nail meanwhile somewhere else (that counts) life is haywire for your reception […]
rode rage
my mind is a seething lava lover
i’m on the boil
dreaming up fresh mischief
cruel coz i cant abide cruelty
everyone is in my sights bang bang bang
a world wore one ace
i strode this old stage before they assembled you from new atoms
i was here before you and without you
in this asphalt eden in this hour of scraper tower
these mean average streets
i was snorting hook and shooting up a river
while your universe still in its infancy
drifted around your mother stars inchoately free
(you had not yet met me )
and delighting comets shot thru your sky
and terrible devils delved in your earth
i heard you howl once from these one score years
i put it down to morpheus
my misguiding light the white lady
all those promises had me jagged
when all she really wanted was to get me by the balls
nevertheless i seem to digress
i cant do 18th century quite like byron shelley
remember him i think you had him once
i’m sure he writhed in loves embrace with some ridiculous face
ah men and the women who love ’em
if i was women i wouldnt love me
i’d love some rich apollo from galilee
i’d love some gorgeous fucking hunk oooh what a chunk…!
i wouldnt love me or most of them jerks that work the bars
hearing that same old slop
some beer swilling clown shouting at a screen
some ignorant oik some philistine prick
some tattooed musclebound macho dick
crinkly greasy little blond curls
his nostrils hideously spread from sniffin’ the air for gurls
his narrow parochial middling world
yeah chug it darlin’ chug your ale
you brain of snail
you door nail
meanwhile somewhere else
(that counts)
life is haywire for your reception
everything is wrong
a bad forgery of reality you thought
stay untuned it can always get worse
i lash out against violence
i only want peace i moan as i trample on a treaty
yeah war will break out like some teenage kids forehead
love sister its just a shot away
my anchor is embedded in the sea
the wind like those vicious idiots that extrude into my life
like expecting sense from a poet
like a silverfish in a gold glut
i am the master of all these words i juggle
i am sent here on some unknown mission
i am obsessive furtive secretive almost obsolete
i am seldom sweet i am rarely discreet i have cold feet
i am easily beat
my events are influenced by the stupid stars
and some script that shoulda been ripped up n chucked on a tip
fuck that ship
the full moon has calmed my outrageous rage
and fuck this crush as i try to jimmy open this page
oh i wanna read what they all write to you
yes i do
i wanna hear their abysmal excuse for a bribe
their loveletters are wetter and no better than any other g’rillas
all foam and filler not like the killers
the killers loose in the ancient gallery again
walks on down the haul
until he comes to the room of his baby
baby?
yes killer?
i want to………
Concert Review : Another Lost Shark
http://anotherlostshark.com/2011/04/15/still-psyched/ Still Psyched Almost a week on from A Psychedelic Symphony and my brain is still firing… From the moment George Ellis and his incredible 67 piece orchestra take the stage, the night is one of the most blissful of my life. They open with a superb arrangement of Metropolis, and as the band settle in, front of stage, the anticipation in the crowd is tangible. Kilbey whispers into the mic, there’ll never be another quite like you, the crowd burst their seams and the band surges straight into Sealine. Free of his bass, Steve has a new energy, attacking the vocal with fervour, It’s a miracle, let it alter you, and the packed house begins to give themselves over. Lost follows and the arrangement is soaring and lush and then it’s crowd favourite, Almost With You. Three songs into the set and the bands musical prowess is shining through, the orchsetra, exploring spaces in the songs and swelling their already expansive sonic landscapes. Anchorage and Pangaea from 2009?s, Untitled #23 are up next. Anchorage not only shows off Kilbey’s vocal depth, it also highlights his theatricality as a front man, and Pangaea has a new found sonic richness. Then we are taken back 30 years to where it all started… the slowed down, sensual throb of Unguarded Moment brings the crowd back to bursting. Kilbey’s voice is smooth and deep, Marty & Peter’s guitars interwine and Tim keeps the engine pulsing. The band then fire things up, unleashing a full-tilt version of Myrrh. The orchestra flexing their muscle as the guitars shift into overdrive… Steve then hands lead vocal duties over to Peter and he delivers a superb version of Never Before, before moving to the keyboards as the band prepare to close the first set with the epic, Grind. For the first half of the song, the band adopt acoustic mode, allowing the strings to swirl and […]
http://anotherlostshark.com/2011/04/15/still-psyched/
Still Psyched
Almost a week on from A Psychedelic Symphony and my brain is still firing…
From the moment George Ellis and his incredible 67 piece orchestra take the stage, the night is one of the most blissful of my life. They open with a superb arrangement of Metropolis, and as the band settle in, front of stage, the anticipation in the crowd is tangible. Kilbey whispers into the mic, there’ll never be another quite like you, the crowd burst their seams and the band surges straight into Sealine. Free of his bass, Steve has a new energy, attacking the vocal with fervour, It’s a miracle, let it alter you, and the packed house begins to give themselves over. Lost follows and the arrangement is soaring and lush and then it’s crowd favourite, Almost With You.
Three songs into the set and the bands musical prowess is shining through, the orchsetra, exploring spaces in the songs and swelling their already expansive sonic landscapes.
Anchorage and Pangaea from 2009?s, Untitled #23 are up next. Anchorage not only shows off Kilbey’s vocal depth, it also highlights his theatricality as a front man, and Pangaea has a new found sonic richness. Then we are taken back 30 years to where it all started… the slowed down, sensual throb of Unguarded Moment brings the crowd back to bursting. Kilbey’s voice is smooth and deep, Marty & Peter’s guitars interwine and Tim keeps the engine pulsing. The band then fire things up, unleashing a full-tilt version of Myrrh. The orchestra flexing their muscle as the guitars shift into overdrive…
Steve then hands lead vocal duties over to Peter and he delivers a superb version of Never Before, before moving to the keyboards as the band prepare to close the first set with the epic, Grind. For the first half of the song, the band adopt acoustic mode, allowing the strings to swirl and mesmerise, but as the orchestra leave the stage, Marty straps on the electric and we are left with just The Church on stage… it’s then, you remember why you are here. Marty’s solo is blistering, Kilbey is just about doing the splits, Peter’s keyboard is hauntingly beautiful, and Tim is giving his kit a delicious thrashing. The first half closes and the show has already exceeded expectation.
The second half of the show opens with the gorgeous, Happy Hunting Ground. It is a real treat to hear the orchestra make this soar. The band hit the stage again and tear through a cover of The Dave Millar Set’s classic, Mr Guy Fawkes. Then it’s the first of a string of highlights. Ripple is phenomenal tonight. Peter’s guitar work is sublime and the strings lift the chorus to dizzying heights. Reptile is up next and again it is Peter that steals the show. His guitar work toward the end of the song is nothing less than thrilling… Then we are treated to Two Places at Once, a song that has only sporadically made it into live setlists over the years. Steve and Marty trade verses, and the whole room seems to come to a stand still. It is one of the many ‘pin drop’ moments of the night. But nothing could have prepared the audience for what comes next… The Disillusionist.
Kilbey is absolutely possessed, channeling the lyric and moving like a dervish. The arrangement is epic, a wild mix of rock’n’roll, poetry and theatre. I was completely transfixed. Marty then takes lead vocal duty for Spark, which possesses a youthful energy, before the mood shifts with On Angel Street, Steve crooning some of his most personal lyrics, You should change the message on your phone/ So sad, so strange baby to hear my name/ Makes me cry when you say we’re not at home.
Then it’s the big one, as Steve says, the most popular Australian song of the last three million years, Under the Milky Way. And what can I say… the room is surging, every face in the room lights up. The second set closes with big rocker,Space Saviour. Tim’s drumming is frenetic, the cymbals getting more than a good workout. The crowd are on their feet, the band is waving and blowing kisses but no-one is leaving yet.
They return with Already Yesterday, followed by a shimmering version of Invisible, that also blends in The Velvet Underground’s classic, Heroin and again, allows Kilbey to really let go vocally. The crowd are on their feet for a second time, the band leave the stage, but still no-one is ready to go home.
The final act opens with Operetta. Truly, this song sounds like it was written for an orchestra. I have loved this song from the moment I heard it, but tonight’s version has a new magic. And finally, Marty’s guitar starts to rumble and the band break into wild-rocker, Tantalised. People start to pop up out of their seats and the room is shaking. The band remind us of their potency and we are all held in their spell.
The roar of the crowd is still inside me, and I imagine will be for some days to come. I have said to everyone who has asked me about the show that it’s nights like this that you live for.
Thankfully for the many that couldn’t be there, there will be a DVD release later in the year.
– G Nunn