The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

i run about weirdly
my world has devolved into a 3 dimensional slop
small weird creatures struggle and fight to be free of it
i never thought things could get so weird
i never thought things could be so strange
i never thought i guess
i never thought such thoughtless things
the cosmic all shudders to spit it all out
the universe convulses as it expels us
and we lie at last
outside
outside of what? someone asks
why come here for the answers? someone else says
i think i know that voice
says another voice
i’m in another room says a fourth voice
i’m in another story…..
i wonder if there are any taxis out there
i got 9 dollars in my pocket…change from lunch
the clouds part for a moment
soft white sunlight pours down
i hit the road forward
and i keep on walkin’
what else is there to do?

the centre cannot hold
the falcon cannot hear the panther
the rough beasts are slouching about all over the place
among us walk the others
you know who they are
yes
you know who they are
the vanishers
the hard to remember now
the distant thoughts
mr weird, remember him?
i thought i was making all that up
but no
look i’m writing about him again
just on the verge of something big
just riding my mind till it can come up with something
just belting along down the alphabet
mr weird assembles himself in letters and light
out back in his day/night club
open all hours except …
is this where we’re rehearsing today?
some sullen roadie bumps in some gear
some tired geezer stands before a drink machine
insurance jobs blow up in the street
who cares?
my felafel n chips are making me sick
oh this is all so noir…..
i change the channel to some happier thing
little butterflies in an enchanted wood
spring suddenly drains out of the world
autumn arrives looking stern and unapproachable
unlikely considering everything
but who can really consider everything
my guitar gently cries mary and joseph
my bass hums with a life of its own
my drums rat a tat tat
mr weird stops in with a cawfee n a bagel
am i in america now? i ask naively
youre so mixed up says someone
yeah says mr weird
youre so mixed up
hes yer friend says someone new
yeah thats right says mr weird
what are you playing today?
well we’re playing um……something…
yeah yeah great says weird
youre a smart fucking bastard arent you?
i check him out
he seems to change a bit you know
tall and long or towering over me
wow his eyes are something else
he picks up a drumstick n it breaks
aw he says
a phone rings
he walks away
lucky for you he says over his shoulder
i change the channel
dont do that says weird his face full flat on the screen
i try again
the butterflies the wood
weird appeared walking thru the wood
when you gonna learn steven? he says
this whole thing is stacked against you
you cant win
you dont wanna win
theres no winners
i’m just here to set ya straight thats all
weird sighed
try being me he said
i wouldnt mind that i say absentmindedly
ok he says
its morning then
i looked myself in the mirror
i am weird
i am him
i am he
he is me
ok
i say
now i’m gonna try being weird

rehearse n rehearse
my brain tries to disentangle lyrics n bass lines
i play bass n e guitar n acc guitar
i sing one song without any instrument round my neck
we have a guest keyboardist craig
whoi is 21 n must be amused playing with these grandads
hes bloody good tho
and does his thing without much fuss
we’re doing 5 new songs off untitled 23
ricky comes in with us
its his last day in australia n hes a bit sad i guess
we pick up the david neil album
wow its gonna be a big mastering job that one
its got a bit of a boomy sound
the songs sound good tho
very happy with the songs
david neil would definitely approve
just the sounds a bit murky
ricky n i play the disc over n over at the rehearsals during the break
the others musta got sick of that, right?
we have take away thai food for din-dins
i play it safe with a double order of tofu in pee-nut sauce
i drink one mother energy drink
i have a few coffees (my new vice…ooooohhh!)
the church revisit a few old songs
they sound better than they did then
i was a head of my thyme
wouldnt you say…?
we run thru the whole set once
uh huh….i’m across it
i know all my notes chords words n whatever
clever olde mee
drive home and say goodbye to our mr ricky
how sad
will we be seeing him sooner or later
hes promised me a little plot of land i can retire to
in no-cal
amongst the redwoods n the purple heads
my own little shed
i’ll paint till my 99th birthday
each morning ricky will bring me my healthy brekky
n a little bunch of native flowers
we will sit in the stillness of that future morning
listening to some droning future music
and i’ll notice my death has turned up for me
looking just like jessica lange in all that jazz
smiling n beckoning me to follow
i’ll waltz outta the door
suddenly young again
suddenly all spritely like i was at …uh ..54
and i just disappear into the lovely ether
ok?

i hadda really good dad once
yeah sure i know you know
gee i was really lucky
cos i seen some other dads in action
violent little twerps
or
distant aloof patriachs
or
drunken stupid brutes
my dad was none of these
my dad was like realer than fucking real
when i cut my eye open
and the quack was stitching my head back up
when my dad arrived
and took my hand
it was suddenly alright
d’ya know what i mean
my dad walked in and it was ok
in his always slightly ill fitting clothes
and his cheerful cockerney accent
my dad was larger than life and everybody loved ‘im
he shoulda had his own tv show
he had everyone laughing all the time
god i know i told you that
but its his birthday
and i aint seen him for 33 years now
and i wish he could put in an appearance
for a bit of guidance or whatever
he was always right
” watch those geezers…theyre gonna cheat ya!” (they did)
“dont drive like that..you’ll crash!” (i did)
” if ya ever need something…i’m yer man!” (he was)
etc
he was pretty cheerful
and he rarely succumbed to the blues
he made do with what he had
and he didnt lust after fame or wealth or position
he was content with his lot and he worked six days a week
he did lots of stupid dopey things
especially when it came to anything to do with painting
eg housepainting or respraying yer car
my dad had a morris major which he re did in every colour
if a fly or spider was on the wall or car
they were permanently a part of it
my dad was a bit impatient
he didnt like instructions
he didnt like waiting for paint to dry
he didnt like my long hair or my noisy guitars
he did like ginger bakers drum solo on blind faith however
my dad loved piano drums n trumpets..just like the old days
my dad liked boogie woogie piano
my dad loved driving n driving
my dad didnt like exercise at all
my dad was hooked on cigs since he was a kid
he smoked benson n hedges n 20 rothmans please
my dad didnt like brown clothes
he liked white socks not black ones
my dad did not like healthy food
my dad liked to give gifts but not receive em
my dad loved christmas day
my dad always had a fresh woody old spicey smell
my dad only donged me a cuppla times..n i really deserved it
my dad tried to make people feel at home
my dad loved world championship wrestling
my dad didnt like yoko ono or germaine greer
my dad didnt like cowboy movies or john wayne
my dad liked german guys
n scottish guys whom he always called jock
he called welsh blokes taffy
n irish guys paddy
i wonder how they felt about that…or is it a war thing?
my dad fought in ww2
he didnt talk about it much
except that he played piano in the mess hall n at parties
i can fucking see ‘im now
his marine cap on at a jaunty angle
the ever present fag dangling out his gob
a crooked grin
bad teeth
banging out something in f # my dads favourite n only key
a bit of a ladies man
a bit of a jack the lad
a bit of a bodgie
a bit of a softie
how lucky was i to have an old man like that?
one of the good guys
he could speak a bit of french
he was good with a camera n dark rooms
he could draw n paint n he loved music
“son…marry anyone…AS LONG AS SHE LOVES MUSIC!”
yeah my dad was a diamond geezer before they invented em
a good samaritan
a nice neighbour
a generous bloke
jesus he made me feel safe
nothing bad was gonna happen
cos my olde dad was here
yeah he drove us through bushfires in the fifties n sixties
fucking great trees flaming n crashing around us
but i lay in the back of our morris minor (before the major)
and felt that he must somehow know what he was doing
he just “flattened the bastard” “pedalling like the clappers”
and we zigzagged down those burning highways
cos we were english in a strange land
and dad wanted to get to bloody melbourne for christmas
dad didnt like snootiness or snobbishness
he ridiculed our rellies graces n airs
he kept you level headed
he was no social climber
he didnt give a toss about the classes
either you were a good bloke or you werent
he hated blokes who were “slow to get their bleedin’ wallets out”
and he paid up for most people most times
jesus i guess hed be like 86 or 87 today
i dunno
i dont think he woulda liked old age that much
especially as he didnt keep fit
i often envy him
in a way
his sudden exit
no hospitals
no quacks
no dementia or cancer
bang
he just checked out quick
no regrets for him i guess
the good die young
what wozzie…52.. 53?
ok
thats enuff
everyone should worship their dad the way i worship mine
if theyre good fathers then youre set for life
its a huge gig
n most fall short of the mark
old les kilbey tho
he was one good daddy!

i dont feel any different
the substances have no effect
i’m surprised to learn i’m not perfect
i’m surprised to see that i was only jokin’
i walk to school in my uniform and my nice hair
i do my lessons and i slowly grow up
i always nice to peoples mothers and sew polite
i wash up my plate and i in bed early like a good un
at age 13 i discover i can astral travel and i go mad
at age 14 i pick up the bass guitar
at age 15 i discover a new continent in my back garden
at age 16 i start to pronounce “schedule” the wrong way
at age 17 i write a good little song
at age 18 i…..oh its so long ago
the colours were different then
everybody was so nice afterwards
that little book of tips came in handy
mr pierce from over the road was never home
i didnt like oblongs
in the future i would change my mind
the wheels had more of a circle then, you know
i was chosen to walk off the moon
my registration was uneven
my real name was slim shandy
my homework ate my doggerel
i collected and restored geiger counters
i went to a cafe
i looked at the men you
i went from zero to hundred in one mexican minute
i checked into the hotel california
i was hummin’ n strummin’ all over gods earth
a book came out about the different types of lava
the vase looked simply wonderful where mother had put it
uncle hugo made us laugh for hours with his little puppet
tosca richards felt queasy on the ferris wheel
mrs pritchard didnt care for chutney
the audience didnt seem to be clapping anymore
my room had a stale feeling
a piano fell on someone and we laughed
peter and i missed our plain
ricky rolled a joint
sometimes it rained for a while
the phone rang and i answered it
someone had a party but i couldnt go
the doctor listened to my mind
on the way out his receptionist smiled sadly
a car was waiting but not for me
my brother said oh stop it, will ya?
my daughters were fighting
i went next door for a while
there was a strange sound coming from somewhere
i had a piss in the darkness
that summer …boy ..it was hot
they got a new guy at the shop
i scratched my head
the thorns caught in my leg and my blood was crimson
i woke up and felt sick
dad was looking troubled
i sat in a car for miles
i walked down a street
i knocked at a door
i go inside a place
i sit down n watch telly
i drink me milky tea
i eat me chocky biscuit
i fall asleep eventually
boy
what a wild ride!

me n kilbey rock up to rehearsal
kilbey complaining n shuddering
we turn up there
miles out in some bleak place
no river no trees no leafy space
factories and wear-houses
kilbey storms across the carpark in a huff
who fuckin’ booked this place he says
jesus look at our hero
in the inevitable army shirt n cord shorts
his sunglasses that make everything orange
wispy bloody hair
white beard
man his pop star days are long gone
he accelerates across the carpark tho
and hits the chocky bar inside the place
immediately bitchin’ at the owner for his “poor selection”
fat vegan you are …i say softly
somebody laughs
kilbey rounds on me
i am what you say i am …he hisses
oh an old line to be sure
kilbey pulls the wrapper off a kinder surprise
and gorges on the choc
ho he takes it downquick
and he trundles into the room listlessly
theres all the boys
whatsisname
and the nice one
and olde you know who
plus some roadies
dingo
ringo
and
ted
kilbey chucks on his bass
ooh he hasnt played in a while n now his fingys are saw
ooh lemme play i say
kilbey sullenly hands me the bass
you do fucken better he growls
and the band strike up our new song
called
boogie in E #
which is about mans basic inhumanity to man
kilbey sings a bit
his ears are hurting
his throat is hurting
his fingers is hurting
oh fer fucks sake c’mon
dingo sets up a little grande piano
and kilbey and i do a duet
on a mawkish maudlin embarrassing tune
about being all sensitive
and all that jazz
we have an argument over the chords
and kilbey slams the lid down on my fingers
what if youd broken them ? i ask
good! he scowls
and opens his 5th tin of berry V energy drink
hey you should cool it on those..that stuff can make ya aggressive..!
he grabs me by the collar
who fucken asked you?!
he goes off to inspect the chocolate selection
while i play and sing n do the work
fuck rehearsal is boring
the others blast away on their rigs
and my ears are ringing like old harry
kilbey pokes his head round the corner
interrupts the song n beckons me
we go out the back
where the guy who runs the place is smoking some dope
oh god aint we had enough i moan
but kilbey is smoking like a demon
wreathed in the poison cloud of noxious fumes
and puffing like the billyo
whatsisname finds us
could one or both of you come back in…please?
how rude he is ..mutters kilbey under his breath
as he wobbles back down the long black corridor
where his fender jazzed bass and his groany voice await
im almost wiv yooo….he warbles
each pluck of the bass ripping up his delicate fingerprince
he stops the song
i hate this song its fucking horrible
cmon stevo… i start
dont fucken start with me ….he chucks the bass down
boommwoomclangggg!
he storms off again
outside
where he runs through a farce of a yoga routine
and gets bitten by an ant
fucking western suburbs he says
i stay inside n do the right thing
we run through
i am the telescope
and the bass solo is looking good
kilbey is missing out on all this stuff he needs to do
but quite frankly
its better if he stays out there
he comes back in for his felafel n chips
smokes another spliff
and then announcing how tired he is
he sits down at the computer and googles himself
he falls asleep in the sofa
and wakes up with a sore neck n a bad attitude
thats enough for one day…he says
and me n him
pile into our buick
and the night is verily very soft
but guess what
neither of us had any money on us
so i pushed it home
from way out west to cosy in here east
and he complained every step of the way
and it took hundreds of years
dont exaggerate kilbey says
and get with the program
right on!
right on

the ‘orrible church begin re-hearsing today
out in some god forsaken suburb of western sydney
away from the pseuds and surfers of my beloved eastern subs
slaving away over a hot fretboard
deafening myself with my own bloody racquet
knocking myself out with my own beat
drinking cans of coke and munching on potato crisps
pacing around in the sun n shadows outside
i look at the weeds and the lizards
i look at the bits of paper blowing around
i look at the tar on the road
i look at the dust in the gutter
i look at the rust on the cars
i do yoga out there on my own
out in a parking lot surrounded by wherehouses
while the others fiddle with their stuff
i do my lonely yoga out there
i sod around with whatever i can find
i kick small stones
while i wait for whatever they have to do
before we play
bass n voice is easy mister
i just go straight into the p.a.
the other things take some jiggling about i spose
i dunno
i hate being in there
in that room with all that electric n electronic fallout
i spent too much time with equipment
and its soft radiations
anyway
i cant remember the words
i cant remember the notes
i cant remember the bleeding names
i cant remember the faces i should pull
i cant remember
nevertheless
i must
so i shall
submerge myself in the church
do my bit
play my part
a cog in the mechanism
a point in the distance
a teem player
easy as picking foxes from a tree
my fingers glide o’er the strings
my voice gets the words from somewhere
et voila
i stumble back into it on auto pilot
all guns blazing
singing my old heart out again
for the cause
for the faderland
for the folks who paid their good money
i dont know what it will be this time
no one does
will just follow along
as it leads us by the noses
and we run after it
with our guitars strapped on
baying and howling
chasing a good tune
see ya soon then

i emerge from the sea
i am watery and grave
lord of the deep
oh you know my name
oh you sure know my name
i am that angry earthshaker
i am the blue haired one
i am violent and swirling and cold
oh i am handsome behind my malevolent glare
oh i am old beyond any measure of years
oh i am quick to rage and thunder
oh i roam this world
demanding sacrifice
bring me your virgin daughters
bring me your calves with the gilded horns
bring me your reddest darkest wine
bring me your enemies blood
i am simultaneously suave and savage
i am towering over your craft in a narrow strait
i am visiting my monsters in their holes
i am fucking poseidon baby
oh god it feels so good to be me
but my anger never abates
my bitterness
my spleen
envious of zeus
that bastard
lord of sky
me submerged
before even atlantis went down
before lyonesse
before lemuria
before the first man entered the sea
i was
i father bright sons on bitches of women
my boys die on the plains of ilium
damn you troy
fuck you greece
fuck you olympians too
yeah
i am the rocker of cities
i swallow ships whole
i explode in a gale of storms
look in my grey eyes
look at my twisted beard
look at my legs knotted in muscle
i am pitta i am fire
i am fire and water
not earth or air
i burn n i drown
immersed in oceania
abroad in akkadia
release those mighty bulls
and see me vault over their golden horns
in crete
in cythera
where i tryst with aphrodite
amoral and dopey
like a goddess of love should be
shes clumsy
she knocks things over
she shows me all her secrets
i think
well now ive really had her
but i still swim to her islands
and i call upon her
in her own temple
i appear like a gathering mist
i whirl my cloak about me
i materialize grey haired and tanned
the slaves tending her sacred fires are shocked
oh my lady the sea god is here to visit you
dont keep me waiting poseidon bellows
in the temple of love in the temple of love love love
how dare he walk in here like he owns the place
i am your master he bawls
i am your lord…
aphrodite deigns to appear
you are fucking rude n pushy my lord
here…take these
poseidon pushes something into her mouth
three tiny round pills
on each
is stamped a trident
oh my lord …says aphrodite
as poseidon fondles her all over
tiny cherubs float about
poseidon swats at them
occasionally knocking one down in a bloody heap
tell those idiots to keep away from me ..he growls
and he passes out
in the wee small hours
he arises
walks to the shore
and disappears under the water
in the morning she finds
a small sea shell
in his place

so sick of fucking booze
so tired of its stupid effects
i pour myself a big glass of lies
and i go dahn the booza
and i rabbit on with a loada bullshit
screaming in some pissed idiots ear
abaht a loada self aggrandizing tripe
bawling out my nonsense
trying to impress some sozzled ninny
or some drunken olde bag
i get red in the face
my skin coarsens
my features coarsen
my lovely olde smooth nose
becomes all bulbous n purple
my olde ticker shudders under the strain
my blurry vision becomes like underwater
my words come from a slurry place
i get confused and aggressive
so i drink some punch…oh ha ha ha
the booze reeks
its a poison after all
thats right not a drug but a poison
a little of that poison feels ok
a lot of that fucking poison n yer poisoned
booze frightens me as much as smack
smack is more addictive
but booze is more destructive
booze will fucking take you apart
booze will turn you into a fucking idiot
booze will turn you into the hoi polloi
booze is a bastard
AND I FUCKEN SEEN IT IN ACTION MY WHOLE LIFE
and i fucken sussed it out
and thank god my mum n dad never drank
and now the olde being himself
sure i have a sip or nip
i enjoy one drink or maybe 2
but never 3
but never before long after dark
never unless for an occasion
i wouldnt care if i ever saw or tasted booze again
it isnt good for musicians
it makes them sloppy
like it makes one sloppy at anything
i am so fucking tired of booze running this world
people come up to me n say
oh your skin is nice for an ancient mariner
i say
baby dont drink!
dont
dont
dont
think clearly for a change
smoke some fucking ganga
thats why god put it on this wunderful world
god gave us weed
god gave us cactus
god gave us mushrooms
yes god gave us wine too
but not gallons of beer n vodka and jim beam
i exhort you
all my readers
watch the booze
the booze is a slow destroyer
but shes steady as she goes
youll end up olde n ugly n spouting bilge
it dont help with creativity…its a fucking myth
have one drink
thats it
thats as good as it gets
or do you wanna get giddy n vomit
do ya wanna promise some s o b the bastard moon
do ya wanna wake up with some hag/beast and say oh ….no……!
do ya wanna blast your brain wrinkles into pickles
this stuff gonna do you over good
bah!
drinkers!
avoid me!

hammer on hammer off
i can get anything i want
cmon i’ll take you there
i have a guide in here
it bounces off a deep submarine knowledge
some monster speaks
and i obey
at the bottom of the lonely sea
ideas come rushing up to meet me
because every night i drown in sleep
and i sink to the ocean floor
like you never could know
sometimes when i cant remember how to speak
or what to say
i think of anything at all
i remember the future again
or did i already say that?
here i am going rounder and faster
my angles come out on my face
my old new skin falls between the cracks
why should i care…….you couldnt buy a mind- like mine
mind mine where we dig for brains i trust
cos i dig my own mind
i got my own audience in here and they clap n whoop
n holler
i pick away at some solid mental diamond
wow its dark in my freakin’ mind
no wonder i dont come down here much
fuck my darkness is scaring me kilbey
hey dont talk to yourself steven
hey you shuttup
no YOU shuttup
i gave ya the best blogges of my life
hey both of ya shuttup!
oh no…
what is it…..
a cave-in…..
(screams of horror)
dont go talking too loud youll cause a landslide
mr jones
kilbey ! kilbey!
oh its fucking kilbey now
no i’m fucking kilbey now
oh are ya fucking yerself?
no i am my own fucking self
i am the self
the selfless self
the highest h….
oh shuttup kilbey!
(chorus of many voices : yes shuttup kilbey)
well its hard to be silent
when youre the reincarnation of dante
and i see you smirk
but if it aint me
then who the hell is it?
and you say life….?
yeah i done that plenty of times once
lone voice in the crowd : no more paradox…!
crowd take up chant : NO MORE PARADOX!
kilbey appears finally
the real kilbey
he looks like a tortured martyr in beatitude
he gazes off unfocussed
and the light fills his eyes in such a way that….
stop
this is an illusion
the real kilbey
the one y’all fuckin’ paid for
crawls and claws his way to the top of a dream-stage
hes dressed in tight black jeans gone a bit baggy
hes wearing a priest=fuckin’ aura, baby t-shirt
hes totin’ his friggling totally bomba-lishus bass
he steppes up to the mike…
yawn
what?
i said YAWN!
but….
but kilbey said
yeah what did kilbey say….
well he said this
he said that
he said i hate it here
he said i like it there
he said…
look you shuttup
ok ok
enough
go on…get yer coat off
no leave ‘im alone…its just him n me…right?
get yer fucking coat off then
no way its just him n me…right?
the coppers knock at the door
kilbey comes to the door
eve-nin ossyfah!
weve ‘ad comp-laints abaht the noyze sah!
ok ok i’ll keep it down from now on sah!
thank you and good night sah!
meanwhile
?