The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

bono n jeff beck in a bar
watching the blue peacocks on the lawn
a gouache semi opaque day
a mellotron sound of birds
dante n the starlings
st francis n the starving waifs
artificial sundayness
just squeeze and apply
steve tyler and a roof tiler
hippie mudbricklayer listens to the go bees
grape juice wine green ginger space drunk
music: thats me manipulating the flutes
as his last meal
until the next
oat milk
soy milk
rice milk
omega 3 .5 yellow syrup
updated with good grease
then strawberries
then dates
date dates
blend it up smooth
smoother than a real mr smooth in smoothland
drink it down
oh oh you needed that
imagine your stomach when that alkaline hit hits
not some chemical dead thing full of ugly bits
but fresh nice clean fuel
yes this keeps you singing
work on songs yesterday
its so easy work
work to play
play and play all day
the guitars all bent in framework
the music is dolloped n ladled on top of itself
sing here stop there
these words will sit here on top the foamy bits
these words are to be heard only on sundays
long gone sundays
n sunday yet to come
eternal sunday
brighton beach melbourne
dad gives us ten bucks to buy some ice creams
its such an adventure
cos melbourne has different ice creams to us
and we cross strange streets
and we stand dwarfed within the strange smelling milk bar
2 blackberry splices
3 gluggs and a vanilla oodle bar
a snowy boy
a caramel triple treat
a raspberry woofle splodge
and one ju jube bo bo with sprinkles
the guy says
we only got butterscotch woofle splodges
me and the other kids consider
ok then …we’ll take 2o cents worth of fruit dribbles
back at the beach my dad doesnt even ask for the change
wow says paul
he didnt even ask you for the change
i smile n finger the 75 cents in the inner pocket in my boardshorts
sunday has melted all around us
we have become stuck in it
there will never be another week day ever again
sunday has become lodged in the worlds gullet
sunday afternoon everywhere all over this planet n universe
sunday day of rest
rest of sunday
god resting after a big saturday night finishing off the earth
lovers waking up in sundrenched sheets early sunday afternoon
laughter and late breakfast
walking round the room naked looking for your book
the sun streams in on sunday and explores your lovely bodies
your lovely heads loll on the lovely pillars
you tangle entangled in the diminishing day
newspapers : someone got hurt
someone got married
someone else died
children walking dogs
pleasant sunday valley
north bondi pleasant peasant seeking pleasure
out soon
out now
coming back atcha!
whosoever
until….
yours truly
etc
sk

the bass guitar was invented
around the same time as me
by fender
the first ones were the best
my bass is an imitation of those first ones
the strings are tuned
eadg
and an octave below guitar strings
the bass is played by plucking or strumming a string
at one end
and pushing the string down
on the wood between the frets
so the string is raised up in down in semitones
two knobs give you volume n treble/bass
the bass is primarily an accompanying instrument
especially working tight with the drums
a kind of bridge between the melodic musicality of the guitar
and the largely atonal beat of the percussion
the bass guitar seemingly sprang from the double bass
yet each is capable of things that the other isnt
the double bass can conjure deep warm woody notes
and lovely slurs n slides
but it aint portable or easy to play
like the bass guitar
oh yeah the bass is easy to play
just like darts i guess
but only a few can throw bullseyes
bass is so sexy
bass is so insistent
bass is so subtle
bass is so down deep
bass is earth
sound of wood metal n electricity
the impulse to play bass struck me straight up thru my feet
i suddenly became aware one day of this wonderful writhing sound
underneath the obvious music
oh i gotta do that i moan to myself
now almost 40 years later still i like it so much more
you can never completely master it
its always got one more undiscovered trick up its sleeve
one more secret thing it can do
one more approach
one more syncopation or harmonic
one more counterpoint note
one more dumb throb
its atlas holding up the rocknroll world
fender jazz
fender precision
they are the best are the best
even
warm
smooth
like olde whiskey
each note sustains as its neighbour
no loud spots
no dead spots
the wood takes the sound n magnifies it
like a strad violin
like a steinway grande
its the wood
its the love of the men who built it
mine is an imitation of that love
yes
my bass is actually a relatively new american fender jazz
customized to resemble a 1957 jazz bass monster
which was apparently the bees knees
so even as a “customized imitation” mine is lovely
what to think the actual original must be like
oh the satisfaction of playing each note in a great song
the work with the kicks in and out
to play in and around gaps in the guitar
and then nail it with em in unison
in full flight the exhilaration
the sheer deafening volume
the incredible size of the bass
the way in punches you in the guts
the way it implies things in your mind
the way it moves in you
making you move
pushing you into the music
holding you aloft
that half indistinguishable sound
you feel it as much as hear it
that liquid pulse of rock
jack bruce lowdown mean n dirty
sir paul oh a lovely player, trust me
chris squire an epic trailblazer
peter hook a brand new take
bass is so nice and kind
bass is so open n understanding
a forgiving sound a solace
bass is the floorboards
bass is the foundations
bass is the thrust needed to take off
bass is the pulse n propulsion
bass is space
i love bass
bass love you
too

my dear readers
i work hard everyday on this blog
i sit down for a couple of hours or more
and sometimes i turn out narcissistic rubbish
sometimes i turn out a fucking masterpiece
some days are an admixture of both
of course it IS all about me
its my diary
its my blog
its my(cliche of all cliches) life
me me me
thats why its mine
if thats too much
i invite you to leave
its pretty simple really
if you have something to say
which is vaguely relevant
make a comment
its called a dialogue
you say something connected to what ive said
just as in a normal conversation…
im tired of knocking out something on here
and seeing all the irrelevant bullshit that comes after
it dismays me
it disappoints me
it bores me
why dont you go go go
get your own blog
get your own chat room
predictable as a 2 bit vandal smashing up a phone booth
all the “wags” who went to town
with their “hilarious” comments yesterday
all the selfrighteous wankers threatening to leave…
then
go
with my blessings
its all about me on here
my kids
my misadventures
my beliefs
my values
my music
my inflated ego
uh huh
why are you still here?
why bother to hang around and make that one last joke
speak with your absence
and let the charts reflect my demise
my only other option is to turn the comments off
which is really no big deal
but lemme tell ya
you make a big mistake to assume im in this for the gushing yes men
and the worshipping unthinking sychophants
(thats what you want…and will never get)
it means you aint been paying any attention
i been fucking honest with ya
i let you in on my ups n downs
i didnt flinch from spilling the beans
on my many personality defects n problems
i just wanted a bit of relevant feedback…
agree, disagree or stay silent
now watch em go
see em leave
goodbye goodbye
oooh youre never gonna read me again…!
ok
goodbye then
im adolf hitler
im stalin
im a washed up olde nobody with a ego as big as whatever…
there you go
i said it for ya already
but im resilient
i been round this world more times than youve been round yer kitchen
i can stand on stage for 3 hours armed with only a guitar
and get 3 encores in london new york or wherever else ya like
(except christchurch)
for 27 years!
i met the best n the worst
i mingled with the millionaires n the miscreants
i made over 50 records
and i sold over 2 million
i got 5 daughters
im nearly fifty 3 years old
and ive had a long n eventful life
i was rocking before a lot of ya were even born
and whether you read or listen to me again
i’ll still be rocking if you sod off
i wont even know yer gone
so go!
yes
you can find yer own way out
i expect bonos waiting for ya out there somewhere
when he gets back from the riviera
or whatever…
(and hes a very humble fascinating guy)
you think i write this for the money?
you think i write it so someone can gush or agree with me?
nope
i just do it for the sake of it
cos thats what i do
i officially forbid anymore gushing, ok?
no more of that either
just some relevant comments
or let it go
is it really asking for so much?
i will allow a cooling off period
ie
of course now
the comments following this will be full of
the usual predictable ennervating tripe
go on
get it out of your system
then use the door
i cant be bothered reading it anymore
get yer own blog
go on
see how many comments you get
write about your life
go ahead
its free baybee
anyone can do it
even you
but this little page is mine
why should i let you hi jack my page
i guarantee i wont be hijacking yours
i promise that in fact
all you rebels can get yer own thing together
where you can write fair unegotistical blogges
even-handed deeply philosophical treatises
written with care n love
democratic wonderful slices of yer life n yer loves
its all waiting there beyond this point
i surrender
youve won
to stay around hereon in would be churlish of you
leave my selfcentred offputting world behind you
freedom beckons
why hang around a second longer?
lets part company with nary a wave goodbye
ah…
thats better….
oh no youre still here…
yawn

the voice in the future can be heard
i am only starting to enjoy it
now its getting near the end
everyday you notice something good
n something bad
things change over long distance said grant
as i write this line grant comes on my ipod shuffle
after a long absence
when i play providence
i always try to do grants bits like grant
i invite him in to sing thru my throat
i attend a magical ceremony
blindfolded and sworn to secrecy
many who are gone reach me somehow
my dreams are vivid
they mimic life remarkably
my sea teams with mermen
my forests peopled with fauns n satyrs
i suddenly remember other names ive had
a christian wolf?
a lemurian monkey-priest?
in nineveh for sure
i passed those nights i cannot forget
worship
sacrifice
the rest
what is your name time being then?
in-transit
why are you here?
where….?
why have you come?
to sing my song
what are these songs?
these songs are about
pulling out focus and expanding up for a birdseye view
who do you write them for?
myself, for no others could if i didnt
of what do you sing?
i sing the glittering distance
i sing the elongating time
i sing the rapid life of man
i sing the lush eternity of god
when did you start?
i started when you began to listen
for what do you hope?
i hope for hope always, just a little hope
what do you fear?
i fear the extinction of soul
where will you run?
beyond all of this
to nangilaya and wild rose valley
to krsnaloka to stroll with the lord
to seventh heaven and the goddess groupies
to blissful fields i feel in my mind
pastures of the blue crane
grey havens
at the back of the north wind
towards the light
please leave the light on for me jesus
it maybe very dark n i wont be able to see
rippling pianos and gently swelling cymbals
an electric guitar enters playing spanishy figures
the bass guitar falls on the kick with a fat round sound
jesus n st peter stand at the gate
at heavens white spirit gate
made of pearls n wrought gold
a soft mist swirls around
obscuring what lays beyond
the kingdom of the merciful n just
jesus …hes just like in my picture
the one of him playing the guitar in a bondi flat
st peters kinda olde n serious looking
jesus seems to like me
but st petes frowning
making me real real nervous
oooh i wanna go thru those gates
look theyre having a bit of a chat about me
course i cant understand it…its in hebrew, i guess
jesus saying something
pete shaking his head
it goes on like this
please jesus
i say
whats going on here?
jesus turns to me
his beautiful face
his lovely eyes, gracious n forgiving
everything about him makes you feel good
jesus says in a kinda thick accent:
im asking him
if he remembers
under the milky way
and
he doesnt…..
oh i say
so…..
so what? says jc
am i in or what?
st peter n jesus both at once:
HA HA HA HA HA

olde olde killer in his little sunlit room
part dante
part clown
part mangey panther
part devil squirrel
part man
part spirit
part the red sea with a fender bass
white hippy mojoses
if you please
olde killer listens to high spark of low heeled boys
oh that piano sounds so good
oh the smooth flute
re bops tropical percussion percolating
warm day in southern hemi fiendss
i bodysurfed for brekkie
i took scarlet to accnts meeting
ive read yr blogge says my accnt
which surprises me…
all the kids have nicknames dont they he says
yep thats the bumper i enthuse happily
cos hes just told me my tax wallop
is gonna be a medium one
not such a huge thump as we had feared
scarlet n i hang at out at coogee
with janice n marlon from the emerald ireland
scarlet is charismatic
im sorry to say it
but ive heard that word bandied about a bit
a little liz taylor with her violet eyes
her theme song is there she goes by the las
you only need to sing :
there she……
and scarlet comes in :
goes…..
perfectly in pitch n time
ive experimented raising n lowering the pitch
but shes always right there
i know all kids love music
but scarlet goes to some place
and she gets that annie lennox look in her eyes
somehow nature has gone thru every attribute
that nk or i possess
and bestowed them all in this one bumper creature
i am in awe of the childe
cheerful bright n loving
with occaisional wrathful moments
i believe scarlet is something good for this world
and she will do something that will make a lotta people happy

people didnt like me much as a kid
lets face it
i was obnoxious precocious n a nassty character
i was cruel cowardly n rude
not all the time, fiendss of course
i wasnt all badde
but i didnt like myself much
im struggling with that even now
i loved my mum n dad
but i was always misbehavin’
in my day ya werent sposed to argue or contradict adults
bullshit i thought
n i argued contradicted n insulted em like a real little sod
its been a slow transition
and i cringe when i think of all the things i used to say
for example
some olde codger
a friend of my dads
telling me how good i had it
and reminiscing bout his boring dickensian olde childhood
which he spent down a treacle well or whatever the hell
and as hes telling the tale he gets all misty eyed:
me n my mate gerald
we get 2 pennies n we ran down mrs hogdens pie shop
and my mate gerald says…
suddenly little steven aged 10 says:
get to the punchline will you?
and yon codger implodes in redfaced indignation
and my dad dont talk to me all the way home
10 year olds didnt say stuff like that back then
you were sposed to be seen but not heard
fuck it people
ive copped it both ways!
i grew up on the cusp of the revolution..
as kids in the 50s n 60s we were more disciplined
most kids got smacked n spanked
sometimes with wooden spoons
n things that sing as they come towards you in the air
woooooooo oooooooo whack!
ive seen friends of mine get a belting with fathers belt
and i seen fathers just start laying into their sons with fists
the teachers could hit you and they fucking well did
at 6,miss dewgood whacked us behind the knee with a featherduster
the cane part i mean…not the feathers
the bigshots at lyneham high caned ya on the hand
up to 3 times on each hand
six of the best that was called
i got “the cuts” a few times
but only one on each hand
its an exruciating pain that shoots all over yer body
like being kicked in the balls
it lasts for ages too
the teacher could pick on ya
ridicule ya n stuff
and you were sposed to just put up with it
those were the times
but we thought
oh well
when we grow up
we can in turn
enjoy having the rule of the roost
but the kids staged a revolution
and now its all namby fucking pamby mollycoddling palaver
ooh little jason i feel disempowered when you clobber me
instead of
take that you little monkey !(sound of back hander)
look i dont like the discipline either way
i hated getting it
and i hate dishing it out
now i have to say all that same olde stuff
dont run in road!
dont talk with mouth full of food!
dont chuck yer bloody toys everywhere!
i know it amuses you
that yer space rocking renaissance man
has to discipline his kids
but wasnt it ever so
its for everyones sake isnt it?
do you wanna get on a bus with a bunch of pigs?
trouble is what is defined as manners has changed…
in my childhood days
auntie lou n co would get all hot under the collar
just on where your elbows were…
are you a wing commander, steven? theyd say as a warning shot
if your elbows werent by yer sides n OFF THE TABLE!
eve n aurora slouch n slump
sit cross legged
standup leanover
jog on the spot
sprawl fidget jump about
auntie lou would have had kittens in spades
childrens elbows have faded to insignificance
scarlet adds to the shambles
and the doodles laugh n hoot n holler
at every dribble n splodge
tho she is quite good considering she aint even 2 yet
but all im saying is
why cant people be born with manners?

i believe that light will conquer darkness
i believe there is a reason
and a design
i believe in magic
i believe in music
i believe that art and music can elevate us
i believe being a musician is an important vocation
i believe songs heal
i believe in god
i believe in vishnu with the conch, mace, lotus n disc
i believe in jesus with his wounds and his sorrows
i believe in buddha with his detached wisdom
i believe in the blue sky and the white clouds
i believe in children n babies
i believe in men n women
i believe in my band
and i believe our next record will be rather good
i believe tim powles when he gives me vocal advice
i believe my accountant when he says i owe the taxman a loada dough (ouch)
i believe my heart when it says “enough”
i believe in vegetarianism so no one gets hurt
i believe in paradox
i believe this is not an accident
i believe in miracles
i believe in the faery
i believe e=mc2…sometimes
i believe it will all be ok eventually
i believe in dylan thomas
i believe in arthur rimbaud
i believe in jeff buckley
i believe in jrr and cs
i believe in dylanbeatlesstones
i believe in marc n david
i believe in houdini n homer
i believe the kalevala n mahabharata
i believe in good lyrics
i believe in space rock
i believe in throbbing electric bass
i believe in pounding drums
i believe in ululating guitars
i believe in lush sound
i believe in mystery
i believe in unbelievable things unbelievably often
i believe something one day
and next day i believe something else
i believe everything reveals a creator
i believe music n mathematics, at some points, merge
i believe extreme left n extreme right join up
i believe in leaving some things unexplained
i believe in being honest with the fiendss on here
i believe in doing yer best esp pertaining to music
i believe in not talking down to anyone whos listening
i believe im fallible gullible but not horrible
i believe yoga is probably the greatest favour one could do oneself
i believe things take time and i believe in perseverance
i believe thats probably enough for one day
i believe i’ll have to stop
i believe this is the last line
except for this

jrr tolkien
what a writer
what a genius
now i see everytime i mention him
some silly american readers have commented about “nerds”
get this absolutely straight
this aint harry potty we talking about here…
i regard lotr as a western classic/epic
and i hold it in the kinda esteem that i reserve for homer
or dante(of whom i am a partial incarnation(some say)(ha ha))
tolkien is not for nerds
nerds may enjoy tolkien
but nerds may enjoy hustler magazine
the movie is not lotr
its just a movie
a good movie
but justa movie nonetheless
now youre thinking
too much nz for olde sk…
well i bought tolkiens “new” book yesterday
the children of hurin
at auckland airport
and i looked up as we landed in sydney
only cos they turned off the lights
oh what wonderful wonderful stuff
i was crying
i had the goosebumps
i couldnt put it down
the scope
the grandeur
the sorrow
like a norse saga
the tragic heroes
starcrossed lovers
the evil villains
now this book
a collection of stories
set thousands of years before the lotr action
the main bad guy
is a fallen god
morgoth
incarnate in a suit of flesh
you see sauron was merely his servant
and morgoth…oohh hes a nasty one
and the “hero” turin
wow what a fucked up cat he turns out to be
a heavy doom laid on him
the conversations in this book are incredible
morgoth and hurin, turins father
they go back n forth trading insults
hurin says you can kill me
but you cant follow me outta this world
and morgoth says my man..
there is no outta this world…this is all that there is
and he dooms hurin to have the power of hearing n seeing
just as morgoth has
to see n hear almost everything that happens
chained to a chair in a deep pit of hell
and morgoth lays a curse on all his family
that everything will go wrong
that every pleasure will turn to horror
every joy to terrible sorrow
and hurin has to sit n watch n hear…for eternity
its worse than guantomato bay fiendss…
now there are a billion tolkien imitators out there
writing their watered down versions of the real thing
dont confuse em
tolkiens language
the incredible linguistics behind the names
the hugeness of his world and its histories
is breathtaking
a genius
no doubt about that
i 1st read lotr in 1966
before it was at all fashionable
i loved it at 12
i love it at 52
i will love it at 102
if i should live that long
the children of hurin is so good
i cant wait to finish writing this to read some more
a genius of western literature
conceiver of immense gigantic things
jrr….i love you
sk

the next day the killer awoke
its a rainy foggy day
hes in a beautiful hotel room
oh if only miss natalie was here…
the room is full of wood n soft sumptuous carpet
the killers mind is full of last nites gig
the music rings on in my mind n my ears
how could the same man have been ignored in one place
dismissed with nary a clap
and the same bloke
same songs
same mature (d)rugged handsome looks
same grey beard
gets 3 (count em!) encores somewhere else?
there you go
its all relative
wello was a shambles
cc was a fiasco
but orc-land was the decider
and the killer came home
the lovely audience provided a safety net of goodwill
i fell but i bounced back up
i remembered the words
i remember the chords
the protective invisible suit surrounded me
and my true self shone forth
nothing mattered anymore
they made me feel at home
and i did feel welcome there
one of the best solo gigs i ever done..
must thank kurt s
who promoted this tour
who put his money where his mouth was
and unfortunately
lost a few fucking thousand bucks
but thru everything
remained cheerful n optimistic
and was concerned for me and my upsndowns
kurt…bring me back again please
just me…not the band….
let orcland be my own little haven
where i know i can come n get a little adoration
i wanna thank paul footlights
who jumped in n made my gig a lot easier
gave of ‘imself regardless
and got my guitar intune at last
although hed bought a 40 buck ticket himself
he spent most of gig
backstage getting guitars ready
pauly …not a god…but damn close
and 12 strings are a bother yes
but when in tune are so sweet like a mini orc-estra
thanks to matty d for all his help n hope the film is good
thanks to the legendary shayne carter who came backstage
hope to see more of ya in syddley in nov
thanks to jo jo the phillipino who gushed n gushed
n had to be carted off still gushing
and strangely strangely
the other gentlemen calling himself matt d
i met him in the carpark
a big dark (welsh?) brute
looking for a fight was he…?
the killer gave him one in guts
one in the head
and then a high karate kick
which put his great vicious rugby lights out
hey apparently he was in town stalking the other matt d
you aint heard the last from that bastard…
hey davyddson…im gonna have ya
if ya ever step one inch below the equator again!!!
i left him moaning in the gutter
mopping up his blood with a copy of fruit machine…
ha! the bloody cheek…
anyway
today i fly out
the extended fam is having christmas in july
all 5 daughters
juicy wallop
all 2 brothers
all 1 niece
all 2 nephews
amy s
zoe m
karin n gorm
more swedes
uncle kenny n cousin sammy
and of course
lil nk
lies waiting patiently for me
homeward bound fiendss
back across the ditch
bye bye killer
come back soon

it was a great gig
3 encores
lovely crowd
not too big but big enough
i loved it
they apparently loved it
i rocked out
it all came together
just like that
3 encores
can ya believe it?
its nearly 3 in morning here
must sleep
good on ya
perserverance
persistences reward
go killer
alright
ok?

mediocre sadly
me n them
confused n confusing
talkers
killer lacks focus
killer what do you want?
killer concentrate
guitar goes outta tune
constantly
tuneup=breakdown
loss of momentum
then every now n then
a supercharged killer breaks thru the miasma
go killer go
wolfe
oh im glad i wrote that
cos it has been going down well
they like that one
that one was laid on me whole
as a complete vision…
thats rare for me…
really
underwhelming springs to mind
another struggle with myself
my spontaneity was not really happening
self depracation
man im keeping it real for ya
this is how it was
straight from the mangey horses mouth
straight from the one trick olde pony
ok?
you cant believe yer heros done 2 badde gigs in a row?
believe it and weep then
cos its true
the technical problems
i just had my guitar refurbished….!
my brand new tuner not working
a battery connexion problem
why lord why?
i am only good in context
i am only good subjectively not objectively
you have to understand before you really like
and thats a strange thing
you have to try
you have to give me your goodwill
you do and i can work against it
cc audience strangely non commital
yeah hes ok
and i was ok
it was ok
they were ok
ok?
if you think an ok nights ok then ok
i know from the chirch that you can have very good nights
i know my gig
im a team player
i need the drums n stuff
im not generating it enough on my own
dont say no no no
listen to me try to figure out whats going wrong
there are problems
no setlist
no schtick
no continuity
no singlemindedness of purpose
too much detachment
too much gee whizz sorry folks baloney
too much stopping n starting malarkey
etc etc etc
look its all over 2morrow night
what does it matter
i wont ever really master this particular thing
marty does this well tho
but i dont
it wasnt how i started
i started with bands
i aint no minstrel
im a rocker
thats what i really do
ok?