posted on June 1, 2006 at 6:27 am

bilbao
we do some interviews on spanish radio
sk despite all his sage advice on yon bologg
totally loses it when some git called armando
keeps screaming something in basque
in my headphones when we trying to record some songs
the second time he does it
i rip the phones from my ears n hurl em against the glass
separarating him from me
he runs off in a huff
he dont realise i got tinnitus
and that pain in my ears bypasses my rational mind
and sends me straight to angersville
fuck him
theres about 20 spaniards
all arguing with each other in the station
as they try to mike us and record us
spain is the land of argy bargy
at the restaurant we trying to determine
how vegetarian the food is
and eventually it seems we have the 2 waitresses
the chef
the owner
plus the dudes putting on the show
all yelling in spanish or basque or both
at each other
as angry as all get out
the argument dies down
but no body still is any the wiser
they all wade in again
people from other tables even joining in
i take a chance on a bowl of bean soup
and it IS vegetarian
phew
id have to say the spaniards and particularly here
in basque country
are the least likely people to be able to speak inglese
that you seem to come across in europa
(not that they should speak english, mind you..!)
i reckon youd even have more chance in hungary
of stopping some random geezer on the street
and find that he could speak english
than here
any waythe spaniards ask the same strange questions
they were asking when we first came here in 1982
whats the psychedelic scene in australia like(!!!???)
who are our influences(!!!???)
is it good to work with waddy wachtel…?
why have we come to spain
etc
then the quesstion about grant
did i know him etc
i suddenly get teary and very sad
ive become something of a walking eulogy for my olde mate
not that i mind, mind you
but just that it happens a lot
he was a beautiful cat i say
later back at the hotel
i chuck on a cd given to me by
sir lord count earl prince belfrank
of the frosties on kcrw in la
they just put us in a studio
and let us talk
and theres some classic steve n grant patter
that had me in stitches some 15 years later
i start playing streets of our town
grants going yes yes steven..we got that one covered
and just hearing his laugh when he asked me
who thought up the name jack frost
i say..well that was me( it was actually him)
grants chortle of outrage is classic
we do some great versions of some songs
grantley adlibbing stuff like
you should read my diary..
i dunno
the guy is never

far from my thoughts
so last night after dinner
(i had asparagus spears for dinner
it was the only vege thing i could find…)
timmy p comes up to mah roomy
we smoke some chocolate
(what the spanish call hashish)
we listen to exile on mainstreet
tim goes off to his room
i lie down n dream
im trapped in this terrible dream
it seems to go on all night
me n natalie living in brisbane
someone calls says grant is dead
i go round his place
hes there and moving around
but i can somehow see that he is dead
i implore him to stick around
god it looks so much like him in my dream
hes saying all the kinda things he would say
but steven, im dead now
no grant no
you dont have to go
im getting desperate
grant seems pretty calm
i go back home to natalie
in our shack one night in brisbane
i go back to grants
hes disappeared
but theres some strange guy there
taking grants stuff away
no no no im crying you cant do this
the guy ignores me
hes packing up grants guitars n stuff
i run off down a dreamstreet
grant dont ever leave me im saying like a mantra
promise you wont leave me here
eventually from outta heaven
or in my heart
i hear that soft melodious voice
no steven, i wont leave you
i feel reassured
its alright now
grants given me his promise
and
grant would never go back on his promise..
i wake up
a cold sweat
im in a spanish motel room
although the dream has tortured me for hours
i feel grantleys unmistakable presence
his calmness, his quiet quiet heart
wow
what a trip
i come down to breakfast
and write this blogg to you
lets speak tomorrow
sk

ps big hi to kitty kat up in darwin
she knows what a sad dream that was….

45 Responses to “calling sister midnite, what can i do about my dreams?”

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