The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

nk pops out to a bar for some drinks with friends
she comes home with a bottle of bubbly
(plus)
would you like some darling i ask
yes please she says
i pull off the wrapper on the cork
you know
the aluminium white wrapper
then the cork has this bit of wire
i undo the wire and i walk to the back door
the last cork went sailing over the back fences
i love to hear it land in the dark out there
and i dont wanna wake up the sleeping kids
suddenly
BANG!
THE FUCKING CORK EXPLODES UP OUTTA THE BOTTLE
AND STRAIGHT INTO MY RIGHT EYE!!
i see a white explosion behind my eye
and i reel from the pain n shock
it got me in the eye i keep saying to nk
i sag down in the sofa
why? i keep asking
why? why?
n my eye is a swollen bloody closed up thing
gee i look real rough
i look real nasty
just when you think you have things going so smoothly
the missus the booze (the plus)
then
things blow up in yer face
literally
if it had been one of those corks with the metal tops
i’d be doing the tour as fucking long john silver with an eye patch
and this eye was already swollen from my bike accident in 1967
and now its gonna look real weird
oooh i hope it changes colour like bowies did
imagine me
one greyblue eye
one hazel alien eye
anyway
did me nearly blowing my eyeball out
stop our celebrations of saturday night?
nope

first of all
let me thank our own loolabillions
who has forked out some hard won cash
and bought 4….yes 4 ..of my paintings
and i must congratulate her for her choices
the golden dragon….oh yes…..
but be careful…hes a nasty olde rep-tyle that one
he loves treasure and…well, you,ll see loola
and the ice-mare
which is a very female painting
(all my girls loved that one esp. eve who named it!)
self portrait with gold floral
that really looks like me
if i was more regal royal loyal n ‘andsome
(noticing new lines in my face everyday)
and an older self portrait called shore points
which is me standing at dawn
on a beach somewhere up near my little mummys house
which coincidentally
(i notice from loolas paypal receipt)
is not far from the billions household itself..
so maybe loola…you recognize that spot
i always thought it was a good painting
i believe its all pastel no gouache
and it has a soft sad melancholy to it
nice choice!
yesterday i got steve kilbey and martin kennedy present
unseen music unheard words
which comes in such a beautiful little package
so slim
so futuristic
even the cellophane round them is immaculate
on the front martin has painted some vermillion atmosphere
some mercurian alien in front of a white hot sea
still like us earthlings
so lonely
on the back a semi -portrait of aurora kilbey
the angel of the dawn
all in crimson n gold
boy
me and martin …you get 2 renaissance men
for the price of one
anyway heres my mini review
please note all this is my own opinion
it should not detract at all
from any interpretations
you may favour
(and dont spell space savioUr without the U!)
ok
the record kicks off with
eyes ahead
smoothly introducing the disc
how prescient my opening words:
distance aint a joke
when yer wheeless n broke….
a fragile lush simple complex song
much mention must be made of jlks b.vox
and simon polinskis mixing throughout this record
superb!
the second song is my will be yours
david sylvian materializes at times
and that little talking trumpet thingy
this is a sad wee small hours tired n emotional song
i will lose everything that i will find
again…..the words are very telling
file under nightclubby/melancholia
number 3 is stretch into the stars
a theatrical number
a ponderous number
when you embraced that creature i deplore..i sing
the song is bitter slow burning and castigating
the next one is maybe soon
light gossamer stuff
advice from a father to a childe
pretty but slightly sad
simple but alluring
a lot of peoples fave
thats my daughter miranda singing on there…
after that we have uh i dunno
the usual mix up of my life
the record turns a bit heavier here
the beat is more insistent
the song actually rocks
its a furtive dark secretive song
full of revenge and spite
6 is thought of leaving
another dark number
very melodic
jazzy trumpet too
7 is another place
this is a hard one to define
it swells up eventually into a big thing
plus i use the word nepenthe
surely a first for a rock song
number 8 is all is one
a spiritual song
a lovely song
lovely music
the music is always so just right
never too much
no fancy doo dahs
no overwrought solos
no pomp n ceremony
at 9 is love increased
with a little bit of a pome at the end
n biblical imagery
10 is the other place
a sad n whimsical piece
i almost never see your face… i sing/sigh
i know you from the other place
(as opposed to another place)
at 11 is naked as a star
which is the “sexiest” track i guess
and finishing up
is friends are gone
as desolate as a stroll round a dawn beach
or an empty cafe when youre on yer own

this is a smooth soothing mellifluous record
it is painkillers opposite
it is the warm interior
it is lush and romantic
you wont have to work hard to understand it
its easy
it goes down easy
its melodic
it pays attention to tiny details
the music is so elegantly simple
yet
yet
well martin has a knack of….
uh…i dunno…
his music contains magic
his music brought forth these words
the music is unseen
and the words
could have
remained
unheard
i think you guys are gonna love this one!

everybody looking for a way in
everybody looking for that gap
fate moves us round like prawns in a game
you gotta jam with what you got
you gotta look at what you got
you gotta allow it be and luxuriate
you gotta put that time in
put that time in a slot and mail it to a future
little steven reading the greek myths
oh he loved those crazy olympian knuckleheads
i learned latin cos it was an old dead language
and i wanted remember all those beautiful words again
its raining
scarlet sits in my room drawing quietly
the rain pitter patter
the wind goes shoooosh
america sits out there across the sea
its the 21st sentry and im a old washed up rocker
but wait……!
some strange thing has happened
a glimmer of a little winged hope
nah!
and yet…
i chew bubble gum
i am addicted to sweets
i love sugar
i have a sweet truth
scarlet plays with her toys
her characters mutter to each other
dad! she calls out
i turn around
not you dad ! she says
oh it was one of her characters calling out dad…i see
she doesnt want me to watch her game
she has a little bag full of things
she takes the things out and handles them with gentle wonder
shes deep in some childish reverie and it must be lovely there
i myself have been in a childish reverie for 54 years
and i have moved with the tao
and i have fallen foul of fate
and i have derailed my own train
and i opened my mouth n shot off my foot
and i counted my soy chicken pieces
before they were cooked
and how green was my veggie burger
and my pitts burger and my jolie frappe
and in australia some footballers did some naughty things
with a lady
and a bushfire flooded through another town
a man bit a sharks hand off
and i landed on my feet
and hit the course running
someone says what about p=a?
i say what about it ?
they say the theme
i say the theme on which level?
they say the level of hypnogogic doo dah
i say post doo dah or naive doo dah
they say genuine naive old school doo dah
i say which old school?
they say
why lyneham high, steven john kilbey
there you are my son
and brendan prout riding your bikes home from the pool
talking about girls
on an endless summer evening that ended five minutes later
now its a late autumn afternoon
you hop in a car on northbourne ave
and its stefan strom
his car has no seats it has…deck chairs…!
strom is under age and driving a car with no seats but…deck chairs
the chairs slide all over the place as we go round corners
and as we pull up i keep banging my head
strom seems to have the knack of it
strom is fifteen n hes driving this car
and hes “rooted” a girl
i press him for the gory details
we went to her place at lunchtime he said
as our deck chairs slid around on the cars metal floor
and she lay on a bed
and she opened her legs
and i rooted her he said
and….i said
and what…? he said
was it any good ? i asked
he seemed dismayed by the whole thing
no …i dunno …it was alright…he said
the car stops
i get out
in a record shop on a cold rainy canberra afternoon
i meet some svelte little sweetie
she says im half italian
as we look at the cover of umma gumma together
we stand in the listening booth together
listening to astronomy domine
the half italian touches my hair
and i feel the whole universe
and the whole history of love
compressed into that listening booth
in that long gone record shop
in that long gone afternoon
but aint that what afternoons do….they go…dont they ?
the half italian is wearing mauve cord lee cooper jeans
we kiss for a minute
her tongue is truly mediterranean
and it invades my mouth like the empress of rome
theres a knocking at the glass door of the booth
the girls older sister
they have words
she shrugs and smiles
the sister
turning round once to glare at me
leads her away into the distance
im certain we’ll meet again but we never do
i float outside in the rain
where civic is beginning to get dark
i stand stupidly in the drizzle
the kiss has bewildered me
like my first snort of smack
like my first hit single
like my first car crash
like my first time up on a big stage
years later
in the fullness of time
i remembered
that i bought a record that day
i paid for it
they put it in a bag
and i walked out empty handed
and i never got to hear it
and the name of the record
which was a double vinyl album
was untitled #23

new pictures up on my art site
please go n have a look
you can click on at the right there
the golden dragon
whose subtitle should be avarice
because dragons lust after gold
even when they have no way of spending it
its a big painting
and it’d look very arresting on yer wall
or buy a print of it
theres a giant bunny i painted for aurora
theres the prophetess who is cunning and eldritch
theres a self portrait and yes i do look regal
(as opposed to ir-regal which is not nice)
theres my darlingest daughter eve
and she looks like tree spirit to me
i mean she does in real life
but this picture really captured it
theres metallic forest
which was s’posed to be part of art man n technology ex
but it got lost in my garage
theres the ice mare…no horsing around…
please stop by n check em out
and be in awe of your favourite renaissance mannes
extremely high output
yes i’m going going gone
not much painting on tour so get in there now
and BUY!
or dont….n see if i care
(may never talk to you again tho)
meanwhile at home
labouring hard over the judgement of paris
it now has 3 hounds
1 cat
i parrot
and soon one black panther
its my most ambitious painting ever mummy
but i’m getting tired of it
just as the end is in sight
next i have a couple of commissions
so this may be the last painting before my tour
i will take some art stuff with me
but usually too tired or geed up to paint
got caught in a total downpour with the doodles last night
soaked to the skin
lovely hourglass shaped wife has made dal with pappadums
n vegie doo dahs
wife tells me 4 basic shapes for women (she has read)
hour glass
apple
pear
column
now i cant stop seeing women
n categorizing em in my head
apple apple pear column column ah…hourglass…pear etc
its a very rude thing to do i guess
but no one knows
except the 1000 people who read my blog
now it seems that there are less hour glasses than ever
(statistically speaking)
and i wonder why
is it because of over eating or over exercising…
am i being a total chauvinist swine talking about this at all?
howcome the hourglasses are becoming extinct?
it seems like i’m hard wired to respond to an hour glass
or am i just a sexist pig?
help me…i’m lost here
can i help my visual stimulation
by the combination of certain curves and planes
in the female form?
nk looks like a fender strat the way she curves in
and swells back out
i cant help it
i could watch her waist all day long
the symmetry pleases me….arouses me
but i cant say why
its not happening in my logical mind
maybe its the films they had when i was a kid
you know with marilyn n all that lot…
anyway
i wonder how they categorize men?
slobs blobs spunks hunks and monkeys
in truth i do appreciate a beautiful male body
with its lines and angles
oh humans can be so different
a day on the beach will show you that
all shapes colours n sizes
i guess you gotta love everybody equally
thats the idea
almost impossible to do tho
would i love my dear wife so
without her delicate face
her deep brown eyes
her perfect white teeth
her sweet breath
her hourglass figure
her soft white skin
her soft southern accent
her naughty mind
etc etc
um…..of course i would…i suppose
voice in another room : wheres this going…?
ok time to take los kiddies to school
wet day
pay some frickin’ bills
have a coffee or something
i thank the lord above
(not jehovah…he doesnt exist)
that i dont work
as in work work
ah….
nice day to be home
sk

an untitled street
a beautiful street in the new world
these un-named trees twisting and writhing in the breeze
these unknown flowers arranged in lovely clusters
san pedro like cactii with magic flesh i’m sure
walking along
its a scrumptious afternoon
it will make your memory grow fat
the gentle late autumnal sun
a mild night awaiting in the wings
yet here you are
who are you?
not the faintest idea
no name attached with certainty
no business being here or anywhere else
youre drifting along
waiting for some force to guide you
in some places the trees arc right over the street
in their cool shade is the whisper of water
in your jacket pocket
you discover the butt of a spliff
you crouch down in against a wall
the autumn sun right in your eyes
the world becomes so very still
the breezes cease to ruffle the lawns and grasses
all becomes so silent
all becomes so tranquillized
you crouch down and the sun warms behind your eyes
you stick that spliff in your mouth
its been a long time since you smoked
its been a long long time since you…..
you cant really remember anything properly
you find a lighter in your pocket
small and black it says bic
you light the spliff
draw down that aromatic acrid smoke
theres only a couple of drags in it
so you inhale deeply deeply
watching the bees pollinate the flowers
and you notice the incredible attraction between them
you hear the flowers so inaudibly sigh
as the bee fusses round
buzzing happily and collecting the pollen
squeezing into the flowers mouth and popping back out
you are outside number 23
a two story house with a driveway
unusual clouds streaked across the sky
like flat white men with long fingers
the sky becomes a washed out blue as the afternoon will fade
you exhale the smoke
a rush of intangible ideas in your head
you chase them all for a while
you waste your time trying to put them into words
they are too elusive
you are simultaneously filled with a dreamy curiosity
and a faint feeling of hysterical panic
your mouth is dry
a thousand things occur to you at once
stupid things you said
flashes of places youve been
dreams of half memories
stories you read
stories you never read
paintings of nudes
womens bodies from magazines
mathematical formulae only vaguely grasped
snatches of conversation
sunlit vistas
your mothers hands
a donkeys sad eyes
the rippling sea at dusk
an old teacher you liked
running in a race
handcuffed and led away
someone kissing your neck so expertly
fluttering fingers on your back
the hole where you fish for your own blood
the whirl of music
an argument with your rival
the warmth and quiet of bed
wintery nights and the smell of smoke
a line from an advertisement
the feeling of cold feet
a confused sentence in another tongue
the man you could have killed
the person you might have been
the clock goes tick never tock
the taste of fresh raspberries
walking in a black forest
a blast of fresh air
the smell of disinfectant
the snap of surgical gloves
the deep incision…..
the afternoon reigns on
outside number 23
gold afternoon sits
all is so quiet
a distant mower maybe drones somewhere
no…even it is now gone
outside this strangers house
suddenly
a breeze picks up
a door slams
the wind picks up
the sky darkens
a mans voice on the wind
dogs barking
planes up in the clouds
planes full of holidays business and going home
planes with all the unseen people flying off
with their unknown alibis reasons excuses religions
people sipping cocktails or perhaps just an orange juice, thanks
a palm tree swaggers in the wind
like a young man tossing back his mane of hair
the pink flowers bobble bobble on the trees
but none of them know your name
and neither do you
unseen in the late day
the dying day
the shrinking sullen but not sunken sun
still you are stoned immobile
stoned immaculate
rooted to the spot
stuck in the afternoon like a pin
caught on the days thorns that cant let you go
a siren miles away
no yesterday
no past
no dreary details
no addictions
no abortions
no treatment
no fines
no bills
no dips
no remorse
no regrets
no song to sing
no words to remember
no doubts
no debts
no nothing
what does it all mean?
how would you know?
youre just a stranger outside 23
with no name
with no number
with no anything
at all

the arrogant lord of the winged queen
cannot remove his mask
instead time gradually wears away his youthful scorn
under his handsomeness we find another old man
its no good weeping little childe
time fills the room then suddenly departs
the animated fall still
the loud muted to silence
the wonderful becomes hidden again
i am a re explorer of sound
surely all sounds have been made and recombined
as the worlds fall and rise and fall and rise
it hurts to be just another in some long line
yet feeling so unique
yet feeling like the only one
we are many
all is one
maybe i do contain atoms of van gogh or jesus
maybe i am just a monkey with my indisposable opposable thumb
maybe im a little bit of god
maybe i am dream
maybe i am a son of earth
maybe i am heir to nothing
maybe im already running on empty
maybe all those things
maybe none of the above
thats all
some perspective
sitting here in my ivory tower
attacking silent old jehovah and all the carnivores
strumming my bass
off my face
all over the place

i explode out of your head
electric guitars going up n down the keys
a chromatic mirage
in my dreams he calls me
tell em about the deadmans hand
yeah i see it all
i hear the shots
i smell the blood of dying men
i see a line of rapists in a ghetto
i see someone smashing a window
the revolution
its breaking out everywhere baby
czar peter napoleon nero charlemagne the 3rd
has ordered us to CRUSH the revolution
which revolution centurion ? some soldier asks
whichever fuckin’ one they send us to boys now shut yer gob!
the song hangs over the fucked up fields of crimea
dealing out the frigging deadmans hand all over the place
read em n weep boys
barb wire and speed
mustard gas on yer breakfast?
a spear in yer guts?
a grenade implodes a foxhole and the enemy stagger out choking
kill em all kill em all! screams the fucking sergeant
with my bear hands i rip out their filthy heathen heaving souls
some fucker whacks me in the head and i reel back
oh i’m enjoying myself now
i take out my great equalizer and i let em have it
ka boom
they all fall apart in a spray of blood and quavers
that night i sit in some captured hell hole of a town
we sit around complaining
the sarge comes in
EH? WHATS ALL THIS FUCKING GRUMBLING MY LADS…?
some lancer tries to answer him
he fucking grabs the lancer
WHATS YOUR FUCKING NAME LANCER?
austin….sir
WELL AUSTIN
THE EMPIRES GOT YOU BY THE BALLS OLD SUN
SO GET ON WITH IT AND YOU MIGHT GET TO KEEP EM …..!
i suddenly wished
i had never appeared ……
the next day we down these subterranean caves
looking for osama bin judas crockett locksley and his merry men
they got it all strung like a 12 string razor
going up n down
tiny blades tinkle in the twinkling wind
mad women swaying at the back of the chorus
oh ah oh ah oh ah
i cant tell if its day or night
no sounds around me suddenly
where are we…….?
some doomed soldier will wander in the gloom forever
where are you….?
i dont fucking know
we’re on the way…..
we’re on the way to crush the revolution…
the wilderness years
still the bush burnt for me
i burnt the bush
and the bush spoke to me
the bush said i am jehovah
NOW KILL FOR ME!!!
and he dealt me out five cards
five AGENTS OF FORTUNE
i gasped as i saw
that i was holding the dead mans hand
beware the ricochet !screamed the sarge
as a big bald pict skewered him with his alt-rez ray
a crazy german blew out his brains in a turret
the dalmation empress with her scorched earth
bullets flying taking toll
billy dont be a hero
machine gun
hey joe i heard you shot yer old lady down
take these guns offa me
i cant shoot em any more
wear a gun n be proud
but bare breasts not allowed
ratta tat tat tat
kill em all
n let jesus the man of peace sort em out
tonite we will dine in valhalla
george harrison wades in
the drums of war pound
the bass locks on like a rocket
following yer jetplane home and flying right up yer exhaust until
KA BOOM!
the mad widows wail gone into hyperdrive
the guitars fracture
the generals crumble
the poppies grow in flanders field
we are the dead
we are the dead
on the way
to crush the revolution
which one sarge?
WHICHEVER ONE THEY FUCKIN’ GOT, BOYS!

we have truly entered another universe
tonight a galaxy of our biggest stars
will congregate
for the music awards :
the influx
the jiggy bay-o-nets
the zigger jackets
all of em up for a fucking gold doo dah
yeah the gold doo dah
the big one
every rocker in our multiverse coveted it
and they only dished em out
when both moons were blue
i rock up to the awards in mercury towers
just off merlin street
yeah yeah heres my i.d.
and heres my chicks i.d.
yeah yeah naturally
im hoping that my group
the elliot crane connection will pick up some trophy
but you never know
deep down in my heart
i knew everyone there wanted the gold doo dah
i wanted it more than life itself…or even fame
enter the crowded room
theres pete dixon-radbury-wilkins-service
theres gonad
theres the girls from horizontal bombo
oh look theres billy frenum n his wife
jim crackburn deep in conversation with his manager bob dickles
i see stewart mc finks ex huddled in a corner with minx maguire
the boys from cockle tears acting all snooty
veteran songwriter john thomas hardon mingles with the street pixels
big fat greaseball mick limbo squeaks away to no one in particular
over the hill producer tom “snorter” farquar chats up beryl me-deep
etc etc
you get the picture
i see andy lee hanging by the bar and his gothic bit of fluff
yeah i kinda know him
he opened for us
we opened for him
now hes got the dudes of neptune
theve fucken cracked the american charts with the latest thing
jamming for damo…
yeah dont ask me who damo is
i dont know either
lee is standing there having a shandy or 2
the geezers stoned outta his tree on hash or something
he shakes his mop of white curls around like
some crazed watusi in negative
i stand next to him at the crowded bar
allo he says
yeah yeah andy….uh huh…hows it going
yeah good man we’re off to new york sat’dy
yeah…where you playing?
at the lamb theatre he said….2 nights already sold out….
my stomach dropped
i dreamed about being able to play the lamb theatre
oh wow…i said….
yeah man.. he said…i could get you in if you like….
(i dont wanna fuckin’ get in….i thought)
oh thatd be nice andy….i muttered
i drifted off to my date
that bastard andy lee n the dudes of neptune are doing the lamb!
is that good? my date asked
NO! THAT IS NOT GOOD! i yelled
attracting loads of curious n angry stares
sir denny hogwrath the chairman of the doo dahs shook his head
dinner was a lovely vegan tortine but still i couldnt forget those dudes
i ask around all the tables
have you heard this jamming for damo ?i ask
yeah its great says nick sable the singer for the true bar doors
my brother gave it to me says gary congo the bongo player…
…its good
maria von shadow digs it too
and goes on about the fourth track with its strings and doomy bass
but whats it like? i ask them all
i dunno they say…like jamming
like jamming for damo quips anita room
everyone laughs
i feel a real case of envy coming on
of course at midnight
they read the winner
who’ll get the golden doo dah..?
of course by now i fancy my chances a bit more
the competition are all pissed
and none are a pretty sight
course i’m sloshed myself but i bet i still look good
i’m sure i do
tho my date wandered off with quentin crumble for a line
and she aint come back since
they read out all the preamble
bullshit bullshit rhubarb rhubarb
i lose focus
i’m just imagining me n my boys at the lamb when
i hear
the winner
is
(in the time it took to announce the name
i imagined me and i imagined accepting the award
i imagined my acceptance speech and the look on my
mum n dads faces when they heard i’d won a gold doo dah)
THE DUDES OF NEPTUNE >>>JAMMING FOR DAMO!!!!
the place erupted
my stomach sagged
my blood turned to ice
my heart beat like the clappers
i saw red
fuck this!
i stormed out
angry bitter bent on revenge
out the corner of my eye i saw lee up there
getting his award from terri nova
and shes…oh no..kissing him
telling him how she loves jfd as everyone now calls it
well who’d a thunk it?
so fuck it
i go down this dark street
theres a shop i know sells skulls n powder
i see madame chew
whats your problem boy she asks in the semi darkness
i need to get rid of something so it never existed i said
that is impossible because as our greatest scientist albrecht einhof said
matter cannot be created nor destroyed…
fuck …i said all dejected
but it can be sent elsewhere she said
really ?i said
yes….
sent to a parallel world
a brutal philistine universe
where none may ever hear of it again
can you send it to… ? i ventured, not daring to say the name
yes! she cackled
i will send this jamming for damo
to earth!
she said her incantation thing
we both giggled
to earth….
now lets see what they make of it!

trying to understand it
is it a masterpiece…i am the last person to ask
it seems there is an oh so delicate balance
cant get any aspect wrong
then you wait for the zeitgeist
you may have to wait 20 odd years
for the next zeitgeist to come along
so be patient be very impatient
theres no sense
theres no rhyme or reason
i been making these weird yet wonderful records awhile now
i dont look gifthorses in the mouth any more
hey i’m on this bandwagon
and baybee let me tell ya
it feels kinda good
even tho i know
it may all end tomorrow
stop
bang
stumble
fumble
bumble
gone!
hey…come back…!
nope too late
now i gotta wait a double decade to come back into style
everybody got a different take
my mother rings me up
steven the singing on this record is your best yet!
damn right it is mum…im a slow learner
i had all those fancy lyrics
but i didnae know how to sing em…
some talk about the conciseness
the simplicity
the complexity
the melody
the instrumentation
let me tell you everyone who worked on this record
is excellent
dave trump who mixed about a 3rd : excellent
jorden brebach who engineered n mixed n played : excellent
sophie glasson on cello : fucking excellent cellist and intuitive master
frank kearns on bass n guitar n good vibes : a godsend
the boys in the band : theyre all masters
and then after all that
all my stars align
tim n i get our modus operandi sorted on painkiller
and we are sufficiently detached
to add the right finishing touches
i write whatever comes into my head
why pangaea someone asks
why not someone else replies
what are these songs about?
theyre about being a child in a grown up world
and vice versa
theyre about the sun and the moon and the washed up stars
theyre about 5 minutes long most of em
suddenly everyone understands us
is this because as 2012 hastens on its merry way
that the weird n the wonderful become more plausible?
is it because im singing more n more in a slightly higher register?
is it because we straddle dumb n intellectual effortlessly?
is it because if you like the beatles n floyd et al then
well why wouldnt you like the church?
no longer a sulky cultish mopish melancholy lot
we have turned into the consummate rockers
we understand and have the chops to manipulate
every fucking stylistic device in rock
we are obsessed with rock
we live n breathe rock
and we reflect all that good rock back atcha
with the love increased
with a modern touch
with my anglo/aussie take
as older n wiser wiseguys
because i do yoga n swim
n tim produces hundreds of bands
and pete teaches music
and marty is a true rocknroll gypsy
with a record collection too big to fit in rhode island
chuck it all together
with a hunger
the hunger of the misunderstood
the ones who arent getting their justified desserts
and then at the right time in the right place finally
we accidentally make u#23
random
like a meandering river
winding its way to the sea
it aint over yet
it could all fizzle
it probably will
n in some ways probably should
we dont need a fat lazy complacent church again
we dont need those arrogant smirks n cant be bothered shrugs
we need max energy
we need full thrust
we need total obsession n kicking goals
not by schmoozing
not by recycling utmw
not by doing the retro circuit or corporate circuit
but by
BEING THE BEST FUCKING BAND OF OUR TYPE REMAINING ON EARTH
i read we are influenced by u2 or coldplay or spiritualized
thats a fucking joke
oh how weary i am of that bullshit
r.e.m.?
dont make me fucking laugh
we had done 3 records before i even heard of em
the cure….are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?
baby here are my influences
the beatles the stones dylan
then
trex bowie genesis
then harley strange nelson foxx
then
it ends
then i swirl it all together
n i turn into me
dont compare me to bono
im the anti bono
hes rich
im poor
hes ugly
im handsome
hes a self righteous irish berk
im a righteous aussie mofo
and i dont hob nob with the fucking pope
and i dont hang out with models at airports
and
i made 2 records before i heard his maudlin voice too
so stick the comparisons up yer achtung baby
cant they see?
I AM ME AND NO OTHER
but still i dont know really what i’m doing
but we made a record in a garage in ryde
that is somehow pushing all the right buttons
and we’re actually on a load of charts
and people are calling up
going
ooooh i love yer new disc
n the snowball is off n rolling of its own accord
vishnu keep my feet on the ground
and
in the deep tranquilty of my yoga asanas
i truly realize
that
EVERYTHING IS BULLSHIT

sk

somewhere different
somewhat elusive
somewhere distant
somewhat intrusive
some other place
i come from
i come from some other place
looped around each other
the universes jostle
pure space
pure conjecture
pure magic
pure dirt
refractions of your life
the way things used to be

all acceleration is off
nothing is any easier here
i bubble thru walls
i ooze under fissures
i penetrate the Mechanism
i move in an adjacent square
thats here
dont you see
i am you
you are me
scientific research all leads to no thing
emptiness at the heart of everything
everything contained in nothing in no thing
everything in moderation
everything in the past
my house with its library in nineveh
my daughters eyes in the city now under the waves
my wives from lyonesse
my twin sister from arkadia
time burns up as it enters my mind
words form on the blisters that come
snakes writhe in my garden
gold slips from my eight hands
i am a monster
i am a soldier
i am a user (yawn)
i am different
i spurn the useless
i greedily heat seeker deluxe
i warper mis-shaper
i black fire drowner dolphin eye
i am the strange one and you know it
the wriggler out of time
and time again
we converse in abstract terms
people here seem so latitudinal
the natives call it today
but we move away
people call me the killer
but they know not the truth
i knock on their doors and my 24 hour deliverance
i have suffered to be here so i thought i may as well bring you this
the tattered cosmic gossip i gleaned from my slow descent
through a thousand miles
of star-burn branded on the hide of the night
the ride of the night
the marsh of time
where i thrash
i am weakened by myself
i am nourished by the suns light
which living vegetal souls transmute into sweet chlorophyll
i am a photosynthesizer
i on close to purest light
i put it all together
i am not from here at all
not from anywhere around here
theres been a mistake
somewhere i begin to panic
theres been a mistake
cant you be more specific ?says the ambulance somnambulist
i start to fill in the questionaire
blood group ……red
sex……not now
history of mental illness….yes and geography of it too
do you have low water pressure? only when i come down in a shower
do you have any following? in some parts of that other world
have you ever discovered you were in a continent? no
can you remember yesterday? ask me tomorrow
can you still roll a double six six 6 ?
do you like to get a little ^ ?
how many * s did you get?
how many #23s have you got in the can of worms?
god moves in mysterious whales
yes there is a god of all the multi and universes
one one one
a one god is many
one total superstar
who replicated his self
everywhere
dreaming dreaming dreaming
shaping shaping shaping
warping warping warping
singing singing singing
i spellman
i gaze
i haze
i phase
i pure flange
i am you
feel it now
spirit come and feel me now
spirit come and fill me now
spirit come and take me now
i am ecstatic in the burnt spurted crystals of life
in the beginning i swam in a race with millions
all those possibilties
i outswam the fucking lot and i penetrated the Destination
and i left them outside
to thrash and die
invisible electric tiny little male lamia
screaming to get in the cocoon with me
i watched them through my membrane
as i burroughed in
as i watched myself develop into this angelic monster
as i crashed my mother victims womb
as i came to some dark fruition here in your far flung world
i realized who i was
but i hid under the cloak of personality
and i crucified myself where i didnt fit
and i scalded myself where i didnt belong
and i branded my self where i had no business
still in an embryonic stage
they asked me
what will you want to be when you grow up
i want to be a child i said when i grow up
they flew me off to a tribunal
i cowered before the intergalactic bigshots
but they sprinkled stardust up my nostrils
and golden moonlight in my eyes of grey
but i exaggerate
there were only 2 angels not 3
i have only lived for forever
time fades away
it wears a hole in my soul
i lose altitude
but still much much much higher
than i was before