The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

today
i feel empty and alone
feel like crying for no reason
feel abandoned forgotten useless used up
please people
i know you fiendss like me n appreciate me
im not soliciting a flood
of comments here
or fishing for compliments
im just trying to hang in this mood here
explore its nature
its 7.00 in nz
i go on in 3 hours
ive sold bugger all tickets tonight
and christchurch
altho a lovely city
has that same feeling as oslo
or some bleak scottish city
you know
that remote windswept
youre miles from anywhere feeling
i used to get it in dover de too
i got it in kiruna in sweden
adelaide in australia in winter
sensytive guys like me get it easier
you see
i can get more outta a situation than most people
i can see some stones n some broken glass
on the side of the road
and it means something to me
the clouds
the grass in a graveyard
someones obituary i never heard of
a book in a second hand shop
a look someone gives me
a child
anything
im taking in everything all the time
whether i want to or not
thats why i can write n write n write…
childe
i could begin writing now
and never stop
even if i live to be a hundred n fifty three
im just packed up to the rafters with impressions
n thoughts n feelings
maybe everyone is….
its hard to tell
you never know whats affecting other people do you?
but sometimes
ah….
im not complaining fiendss
im not saying how tough it is to be me
are you kidding?
its been a cakewalk….
but sometimes….
its not depression
dont confuse it with that
depression i have been aquainted with
thanks to heroin n getting off of it
thats another thing altogether
depression is a terrible terrible thing
a void
a crushing grey awful weight
luckily i dont have that
if you do
i sympathise…
no
this is melancholia
this is a sensitive n overactive nervous system
a tendency i have always had
its good for creativity
since everything means something to me
i dont have to look far
to find inspiration
no
inspiration is not hard for me to find
since anything has some significance
the insects
a stain on a wall
the red of the traffic lights
a word heard on the wind
the shape of a cloud
like marcel proust
a complicated innerlife
inexplicable almost
i guess everyone has this
but some peoples jostles to the foreground
makes itself heard
the tiniest details
i drive thru a town
i see a sad looking house
or a tiny dead bird
a bit of string
i dunno
or even an old bit of newspaper
i get melancholy
i feel my mortality pushing down on me
saying you are so temporary
oh there goes another 5 seconds
till you go to that very alone place
that place where we stand empty handed
before god
or just before more emptiness
alone
with nothing
what do i need?
well this is where drugs n drink come in
because when that emptiness strikes
you reach for the whatever it is
that gets you thru the night
that lonely dark night of the soul
you think of all the sad bad things youve done
believe me nothing can protect you from nothing
look at elvis n marilyn
n all the current celebs
they got it….. everything
but when the nothing envelopes em
everything is no good
so you may think
come on time being
you must be happy knowing you made people happy
it hasnt seemed to work like that for me
i was walking round this strange remote town
with the melancholic blues
envying all those bastards
who are younger n richer n happier than me
and jesus
the list is unending
absolutely unending
yet envy i know is a sure fire misery maker
comparing yerself to others is a big trap
you know that
you do know that, dont you
everyone with their own cross to bear
you cant avoid pain
you can try
but its gonna catch up with ya sooner or later
its being human
the blues
the inadequacy
the regrets
the what-ifs
n if-onlys
anyway
today my own little box of sadnesses came open
and i feel eaten up n spat out
exile on mainstreet of some little city
in the southern hemisphere somewhere
on a blue blue planet
going round a tiny little sun
somewhere in an infinite universe
i want connection
i want contact
i want assurance n reassurance
i want mollycoddling n pampering
i wanna feel special n useful
i wanna do something that means something
i want love and more love
but this world…
this unfair world
with all its misery n injustices
the big animals eating the little animals
the ugly lonely bedsitter people
the washed up olde singers n actors
the waiters hustling their scripts no one will ever read
its crashes n its whirlpools
its illnesses
its dead end jobs
its unforgiving stare
this world is no place for the likes of me
i want that cushiony soft warm fuzzy world
that sunday night
i just had a bath
and mums making toasted sandwiches
and we’re watching disneyland on telly world
that protected safe world
which has slipped thru my fingers
like the time that gave birth to it
leaving me exposed
raw
confused
hi n dri
unable
thats it
thats my melancholia
same as yours but different
no better or worse
just that i know how to write about it easier
its a luxury
of a man with too much time on his hands
preoccupied with himself
and talking to himself
via his dirty off white ibook g4
maybe i’ll tune back in after tonites gig(gle)
maybe not
love
sk

this is the truth
i was pretty ropey
a week ago i was standin’ in the kitchen
strumming songs to nk as she cooked the dinner
and every now n then
id forget a chord or the words or both
inexplicably it would vanish from my mind
leaving me blank n empty
and nk would go
ooh
and i’d say no no
itll be allright on the night
and guess what….
it wasnt
i fucked n fumbled around
told funny n nonfunny anecdotes
i tried to just be myself
and quite frankly i was underwhelmed by me
and then every now n then
thru the tuning problems n amnesia problems
i would blast out a song
which was good enough to give me hope
but i was like a footy player having a bad day
the magic jus’ was not there
now the audience were lovely
about a hundred
lovely venue
lovely people
everything
matty d
jazz
the lot
and yet
why killer
im sitting here writing this for me
as well as you fiendss
and this aint a ploy to be all coy
so youll go
oh no stevie boy im sure you were good….!
no no it wasnt good
it was a shambolic bit of horsing around
as woulda done the lyneham high sk proud
afterwards the lovely promoter says
some songs you shouldnt maybe muck about in
this is hilarious
im almost 53 and people are still telling me not to muck about

whats fucking wrong with me?
why cant i be serious
why cant i knuckle down
sing the songs properly for the whole length
play right chords n notes
remember ye olde lyrics
and do it propply
now this is hard for fiendss from recent london show
to understand
there the killer ruled
and he pulverised himself against the music
and verily as olde as he was
did he rock!
but tonight…
im ashamed to be called the killer
i couldnt kill one semi crotchet
or nail a treble clef
but the people
like witnessing something alien
heres someone as confused as them
a bloke ballsing up and goofing off
honest almost unapologetically
its pathos/pathetic
its humour/mucking about
spontaneous/ unprofessional
its underdone malarkey n a real carryon
people came back n said
oh it was marvellous
what?
how could it be?
or is it?
i dunno
i cant be straight with myself even
such is the level of subtext in my mind
i dont know who i am
or what i will do
playing acc guitar n singing undoes me
im too used to bass
i cant adjust
and the wrong part of the brain
is thinking about the wrong things
everything collapses cos it aint ingrained
you see in london i knew what i was doing
plucking the bass
singing the songs
its like falling outta a tree for me
i am wired to do it
like driving a car
you just do it
but when i strum instead of play bass
its such a different thing
a wristy thing
the bass is all about fingers
not so much wrist action
mr humphries
look a mangey panther cant change his spots you know
anyway
wello was strange for me
i learnt that sometimes
my words n music will desert me
leave me hi n dry
n my humour fails
n im relying on sheer good will
tonite wello gave me it
n im thankful
they were a very nice bunch
thanks for yr patience wellotonians
tomorrow
well today actually
seeing its almost 2 in the morning
today
this evening
is christchurch
some one said
watch out there
there all working class riff raff there
i should be right at home then
jack the lad n his hi-jinks
send in the clowns
there ought to be clowns……;

mmmm
yer hero has arrived safely
downtown wello
where they invented wellington boots
just after they invented beatle boots
ho ha
but i just remembered
something from yessaday
i was sitting on a beach with lil sk
aka scarlet killbee
aka the bumper
aka the woofle
i was sitting on bondi beach
and the woofle was playing some game with her toys
and i was jus’ lazing back in the sun
when an entire football team
started practising behind us
they were island boys
from the solomons or fiji or somewhere
and even tho it was quite a warm day
they were practising in these hoody jackets n long pants
boy they were working up a sweat
running up n down
up n down in the sand
the nearest guy to us was about 7 foot tall
with bandaids all over his face from footy injuries (i presume)
sweating buckets of ink (as juicy wallop says)
and theyre all doing their islander tribal whoops n hollering
(if i was a missionary i’d be feeling kinda nervous)
and then i hear this voice
“mate, mate”
i think he cant be talking to me
but i hear him saying mate mate
i turn around
and this guy says to me
a beautiful beach you got here mate
and his face crinkles up into the most delightful innocent smile
complete with big white teeth
and sparkling eyes
and this guy melted my heart
with his eyes and his smile
and for a split second
i hated all “whites”
with their guns n tricks n religions n diseases
and i wish this world had turned out different
and i wanted to do something for this guy
but all i could say was
thanks…
as if it were my beach
wow
what a lovely lovely cat
he looked so big n fierce
but he was like a big kid
and i hope he n his team win
and he has a good time in australia
anyway
here i am in nz
2 hours before syd
2 hours before my show
have done my check
have done an interview
have met matty d
whos showered me in grapejuice n manuka honey
have had a veggie hash stack
now back at very luxurious hotel
will do yoga n qi gong
n back down gig
to start at 9 30
thats really about it
stay tuned
see you fiendss 2 morrow
ok?

the devil
what does that mean
that his number was 666?
which number?
or is this some complicated bit of cabbala
tossed into revelations for the cognoscenti?
how could olde jehovah let that dude run riot like that?
why not stamp him out bang! like that
im sorry
but when i look at this earth
and its colours and its processes
and its marvels
the biblical stuff just seems……..pathetic
it seems like it was written a long time ago
by some seriously judgemental old israelites
with long beards and a big axe to grind
oh theres some beautiful parts too
and some ludicrous parts indeed
can you imagine a god capable of creating
the forests
the snow
the lakes
the oceans
is gonna help one lil tribe against another
and say things like
i am a jealous god
gee thats sounds like a human talking …
or whoever it was
running round with a bag of a thousand enemy foreskins
oh yeah thats what god wants
of course
and bears savaging the youths
for laughing at elijahs bald head
fuck him if he cant take a joke!
and the devil
oooh im real scared
hes trying to collect our souls
what for?
why would he give a toss?
and we all know how its gonna end
dont we?
it says so in the bible
gods gonna whoop satans ass, right?
well maybe satan dont believe the bible
after all predictions can be wrong, right?
god its all so utterly ludicrous
and so humancentric
all this
so these 2 cats can play a game
collecting our souls
and all the beasts n deserts n jungles n meadows
are all just scenery for the game
like in a train set
and us…
we’re like the shuttlecocks
naughty lil satan tryin to getcha with the badde stuff
self righteous boring olde gee-hovah judging you
yeah sure
yeah sure thats how it is
thats how this she-bang works
all for humans benefit
like if im jehovah
and i can dream up universes
as if im gonna be so hung up
on what a bunch of turkeys do or dont do
down here
or lucifer
ok he broke free
jehovah gave him free will
and he exercised it
sorry j-man
i dont dig yer rules n regulations
me n a bunch of the other groovy angels are splitting
so we can goof off angel fashion
jehovah says get outta here lu
dont ever darken my doorstep again!
lucifer says
we were already leavin’ !
and this incenses jehovah
and the angels with god
and the angels with lucifer
begin pushing each other about
and soon you got a war in heaven

now i cant believe that olde jehovah
who after all
made all those angels
i cant believe he just dont wade in
and end it
i mean
if he aint the decider
i dunno who is
yet although he wins
there seems to be a bit of a struggle
and what about those other angels that backed the wrong side
they must feel silly sitting in hell
when they coulda had heaven
anyway jehovahs actual lack of omnipotence
i mean everythings always going wrong for him aint it?
adam eating apples
whispering serpents
cain kills his little bro
the tower of babel
david goes bad
then king solly even
its just one thing after another
loads of misogynistic twaddle and unlikely carryings on
quite frankly the “good” guys come off as a bunch
of imperialistic marauding butchering villains
just ask the fucking canaanites
and the big J
he floods the world
he nukes sodom n gomorra
but lets las vegas go….
he just aint coming off as omnipotent to me
nor particularly kind or even “good”
why should one bunch be his “chosen people”
allowed to do whatever they liked to the “enemies”
eg the ones whose land they were invading
justifying the whole thing
with a little rationale that it was ok
cos their god said it was
and whats all this gotta do with me?
why was i raised in a society
where people waved this silly superstitious
n largely tedious book around
saying it was the “good’ book
good for who?
not the canaanites or the cats in jericho
or a bunch of others supposedly massacred in it
im sorry i just aint identifying with the israelites here
i mean their fight aint my fight
and their tent god aint my god
and then a problem enters the bible
into this hodgepodge of law and war and downright plagiarism…
come on christians
the flood and garden of eden are in gilgamesh
thousand years earlier
dont it make ya wonder?
anyway into this largely silly and (to me) irrelevant book
comes something worthwhile
well thats not strictly true either
they started a second book for this guy
the old n new testas are only joined cos some cat said to do it
anyway a new book
a new leaf turned over
and heres a guy spouting some beautiful stuff
no more rape n pillage
no more take his donkey and kick his ass
no more trumpets blowing down walls
just
hey
wait for it..
hey people
try being nice…
there ya go
revolutionary stuff
after all that slaughter n struggle n destruction
we have this enigmatic cat
and hes not that different to buddha really
and who knows if he ever heard buddhas teachings
the gist is the same
dont persecute others
get yer own trip together
people look after each other
live yer lives wisely
love everybody as much as ya can
forgive everybody as much as ya can
boy its pretty simple really
but
its the way these guys put things
they invented these little sutras n parables
so you could understand
where they were coming from
anyway
i dig jesus n his ideas
whoever he was
whoever said that stuff
it didnt say itself….
he was a genius of love
a soothing healing charismatic breath of fresh air
the rest of it
the devil
jehovah
the rules n regs
the justification for invasion n atrocities
dont interest me
666 ooohhh
how scary!!!

sitting here looking at the classic single collection
justa got my copy
david fricke has written some very very kind liner notes
theres some pictures of us
you may never have seen
ha nick ward even gets his mug on here
in his stripey blazer with rolled up sleeves
me im skinny and angular as they used to say
i got short dark hair n a stupid pout
then ploogy arrives all eighteen years of age
a teenage genius of the drum kit
an incredible character
us playing on a tv show 1982
i still had my ibanez fretless bass
making starfish
im actually smiling
peter looking relaxed
ploogy laying down a beat
on what was sadly to be his last real record with us
then live at the roxy
gee am i having a bad hair day or what
pete n marty look glamourous
with jd in ny 1992
a strange pic
then london polka dot shirt
short hair clean shaven
then portland 2004
the era of the modern being
ah we dont look too bad there
back cover
an early balmain shot at richards old house
god what mysterious blokes….
then a starfish shot
then 2003 in glebe spacejunk studio
then a shot from blurred crusade live days
when we had a huge lighting truss
the record itself i probably wont listen to
why would i?
i heard it all before
aint i?
but its a nice package
and you got all our “singles” on one disc
so there you go
it wasnt my idea
but seeing its out
i hope it sells millions
although that
of course
is highly unlikely

was kicking round a footy this arvo
with some other dads from the school
when i went to mark the ball
ie thats aussie rules talk for catching it
and it slipped right thru my fingers
hands
arms
and smacked me right in the testicles
holy fucking toledo
what a feeling that is, thrillseekers
lost my breath
double up
wow
into a new universe called pain
everything else recedes
someone says never mind
you gotta nuff kids…
the kids gather round their fallen daddy
daddy daddy dad they squeak in fear n misery
its ok i gasp
just go away
after that i play football gingerly
i dont care so much if i catch the bloody thing or not
hooo doggie
anyway
thats pretty much my day
warm mild overcast weather here
love
sk

the west and the east merge
the setting sun
the rising sun
the way is a long way away
god reach down to me
in the void of hedonism
in the absence of intoxicants
a grey day dawns
without energy
without qi
without oomph!
i am i am
being me of course
being the being you like me to be
hurtling over hurdles that curdled in my mind
a jumped up jumper of low highs
me and her and little her
drive around in dappled sunlight
we buy food
and watch the monsters of fashion and music go by…
what is the being in me that feeds my thoughts?
some one or two
where mathematics merges into music
where science merges into mysticism
yeah yeah
or where old merges into vintage
all those leap years i looked before i leapt
the lean years where i put on weight
the salad days i ate chocolate
the days of wine n roses were
the days of poppies n poppies
what is that poppy spirit
that it craves to dominate us
out thinking us at every turn ?
like a cold that lasted for ten years….
everything dancing with everything else
or jostling up alongside
the poppy the human
the human says
oh sweet plant
oh you take away my pain!
and the plant says
yes i do
but you dont know the price yet
but the human doesnt hear that
or doesnt want to hear that
and the poppy spirit
enters the human
and its very hard to get it out
and it will pull every trick in the book
to remain
you see the grape on the vine
spirit of dionysus
says drink me down
and laugh and be merry
the coca leaf says
i will make you superhuman
the pot plant just smiles and
its resin catches the sunlight
the ergot on the rye brings visions
of heavy hell n hello heaven
the peyote explodes inside you
and you see for the first time
these things are not remnants of the sixties
these are eternal spirits in eternal contact with mankind
i have known and wrestled with them
i see them now for what they are
neither good nor bad
they are
and they show neither favour or mercy
they contain the best and the worst
they are agents of maya befuddling us
they are in symbiotic relationships with us
just like a fever
they need you as a host
to perpetuate them
to take up residence
where youll never find them
silently asking for more of themselves
fighting back hard when you fight them
showing you great beauty and harsher truths
mans need to change his consciousness
you cant sneer at that
you cant deny it
you shouldnt outlaw it
it is a need
like food or land
but it is a journey
and journeys must needs have pitfalls and setbacks
and there is always some kinda price
you mightnt realise it at the time
some journeys cost more than others
some are very dangerous
and most travellers perish who go that way
i love intoxication
i always have
i always will
im prepared to pay the various prices
but im weary of it at the same time
realising it ultimately is a dead end
what a shame our natural condition was not serene or exstatic
a shame that truth is found in wine
cos so are hangovers
any way
im gonna do some yoga
itself a consciousness changing thing
except when its all over
you feel good
not hollow
like me
today

sweet sweet love
it will last
it will last
love that produces these lovely daughters
outta nowhere
daughters with wild hair like little dryads n naiads
or lovely blonde straight hair and dusky skin
gentle kind creatures who bring more love
music
intoxication
the 4/4 beat of love
goldfrapp
spacemen 3
massive attack
spain
chapterhouse
trex
air
blank n jones
music condusive to love
im not a fighter im a lover
but i will fight for love
music n love so intertwined
music from love
love of music
i am a music lover, lover
make music make love music
i will provide the bass
i will provide the never ending pulse
the deep low end
you know i’ll be there
underneath it all
and my timing is true
i never falter
as i nail the beat
back with 4 beats
4/4 childe
bang bang bang bang!
harmony
weave in and out
rubbing against the melody
unbearably pleasant friction
azimuthal spirit bearing down
spirit come and take me now
spirit come and fill me now
drunken lovely feeling
the low grind of the cello
the flute and the oboe fingered
the drum pounds
the piano tickled
the viola moans
the violin screams extasy
the electric guitar brutalizes
the organ grinds
creamy and overpowering
the electric bass
sits on the bed
way down there
and it nails the beat
it encourages
it hestitates
it pushes
it draws back
it speeds up ever so slightly
and grows larger inside the music
deep into the music where it has lodged itself
pushing into the very heart of the music
insistently exploring
the real power
the power to create
to bring to life
to call down souls to take on flesh again
little love children
summoned hither
our love must needs be personified
these children are the personification
they are music made solid
delightful children with kind eyes
with perfect proportions
with hazel eyes
with brown eyes
with sky blue eyes
children who could have come from anywhere
children who love each other
children who love music
tiny baby with her beethoven hair
child star
bells and tinkling pianos
imagination
this is life
the beat of life of music
musician of lifes lovely beat
coax and feel and command the beat
where it all joins up
where it comes into contact with itself
when the spirit finds you awake or dreaming
and the lion indeed lies down with the lamb
on broadway or sweet eden
eden filled with honey days and forgetful nights
and music all around
songs about the distance and the time
songs no one has ever written
songs that need to be written
else they remain forever inchoate
the souls waiting to be freed
by a musician
to join up the musics inevitable form
and the singer of love songs
that wailing crooning shouting whispering voice
those words of love
the promises of love
the agony of separation
the pleas and entreaties
those descriptions of love
those coded secrets alluding to loves embraces
love embraces music and they produce song
song sings love
song is sung for love by love itself
the instruments tune up
tautening
relaxing
testing
measuring
calibrating
the musicians stroke and feel and fondle the music
the music is personified by the instruments
the instruments made of earth itself
yet earth now penetrates air and ether
with its music
love of fire for water
love of earth for sky
love of ocean for shore
(for sure)
love of child for father
love of mother for son
love of music
love of songs
songs of love
there is no end to this
over and around
in and out
all about
interpenetration now of all spheres
the triple world
past present future
music constant
atlantis sinks to its anthem
which david bowie found
after umpteen thousand years
and he played it on a mellotron
on “crystal japan”
songs come from the future and past
from other universes
from other minds
from the dead
and the yet to be born
songs are spells
hurl them against mountainsides and lo! they open
the pied piper was laying down a groove in olde hamlin town
he begins a lowdown sleazy dirty tune on his flute
and them rats prick up their fucking ears
oh ratty says his song to their greyfurred ears
oh little delicious rat come with me
you gonna get down down in the nicest sewer
darkness and warmth and food and ratty love
disgusting sordid rodent music
oh but look at ratty go
go go go little ratty
all you little rats go go
over the hills and faraway
into the river
drown in this music little rat
and big rat
all drown together in the river of music
in the musical river
where down sitting on the bed is the bass
and the pied piper says
ok cats i did my gig
wheres my bread?
and the burgermeister n his cronies say
too bad, druid
that gig was for fucking charity
and the pied piper
he says
oh izzatso?
and the burgermeister and his crooked pals
who hate music and love
they say
be off with you vagabond musician
we care nothing for your slurs n slides
for your semi-quavers or your trills
and the pied piper
picks up his flute
it was his axe you see
he picks up his magic flute
under the enchantment of music and love
the flute resonated deeply
its own wooden nature
imbued with sunlight and earth and rain
stuffed full of the pipers intent
it was his familiar spirit that lived in flute
in the music lay the coiled spirit
and the spirit was a tiny version of a great spirit
the spirit of love which motivates everything
even
as you have seen
rats
and the piper breathed life into his flute
and the swedish word for breath and spirit is the same
and the piper filled with music
breathed into the flute
and such was his skill
such was his divine knowledge of spirit
and his knowledge of love
the upsndowns of elusive love
and this cat now laid down a melody of such beauty
a melody so fucking unbelievably lovely
oh i cant even begin to describe it
i have only words
but the music had magic
and the old people in the town heard it
and they said
oh whats that strange sad music
but the lovely children heard the music
and they said
oh thats so awesome
and they drifted out of their houses
they left the playground and the nursery
the schools emptied out
and the piper kept on improvising round that melody
in the narrow streets of hamelin
with natural reverb n echo
the magic flute swirled round that town
and the piper breathed a song into it
a song which had sprung from his mind complete
and the song said
childe
listen to me
come with me
wherever i lead
and the piper breathed into his flute
and the children spellbound
were bound to follow
in the jingle jangle morning
they went following him
and he lead them out of the town
into the mountains
and he stood before the mountainside
and he played a stoned groove
a rocky heavy metal mountainside rag
a song the mountain could dig
and the piper breathed the words
open yourself
and the mountain
who was female
an earth mother type
that beautiful mountain
opened herself for love
opened herself for music
opened herself for the musician
who breathed songs into this world
and the piper sang to the children
go in go in go in
and he sang to the mountain stay open stay open
stay open
and all but one child entered
into the mountains cleft
into the arms of the earth
and the piper himself entered too
and the mountain graciously received them
took them into herself
and she closed
and the music suddenly ceased
and the hills were silent
all birdsong stopped
and that one child
that sweet lame child
who had not been able to keep up
he sat and he wept
and i said describe to me childe
tell me about the pipers song
and he said
it was
the sweetest thing
youll ever learn
is to love
and be loved
in return

sorry no blogge yessaday
been “working” on new killer album
doing a song called wolfe
*
wolfe is mad
he cant run with the pack
things went bad
out the back
wolfe is sad
aw i dunno
crash his pad
out in the snow
its like a thousand little angels
on the point of a pin
theres no sense in describing
the place that hes in
its like a filigree diamond filched from a ring
just keep still and stop
howling
wolfe feels good
ah im not sure
if he could
anymore
wolfe cant see
ah thats no good
cant see the tree
for the wood
*
(lyrics reprinted by kind permission of sir dennis hog-wink
monopoly music 2006)
been working with electric guitars n mellotron
a mellotron is an instrument invented in the 60s
it plays back small loops of tape
its like a primitive sampler
jesus its all over every record from about 66 on
specially moody blues
genesis
the beatles n the stones
it has a keyboard like a piano
when you depress , say, a c key
a small loop of tape
of the selected instrument
will play a c note for 7 seconds
then it must needs rewind
and it cuts off
you get a certain technique working around that
it has strings
flutes
voices
trumpets etc
davy bowie went in for mellotron bigtime on diamond dogs
they have a very characteristic sound
and it adds instant “authenticity” to any olde song
like wolfe
theres 12 string guitar capoed at the 5th fret
in stereo strumming ferociously throughout
its a punky-glam kinda song
the bass pumps
the drums crash n wallop
then some television-y clean constant guitar figures
then some shoe gazery floating guitars
then some single notes that bend up n back a semitone
tim called that wolfcub howl
towards the end they come in in stereo
then some strings
some high strings
some low strings
then we find this string patch
that plays this weird little melodic loop
you depress the c note
and itd play this little melody
but the melody was made up of a number of strings
kinda harmonizing in some old1940s movie grab
a dah dah dah da da da daaah
it was real slow
i say to timbo
i bet this works
the song starts up
one two three four
bang!
i hit the c
the punk-glam song starts up
underneath it plays this unrelated string loop
et voila
my instinkt never fails me
it fits like some beatle string arranger on acid did it
all night long tim n i marvel at the trusting of the process
i just pick up the guitar n almost the 1st thing i play is perfect
trust the process
the ether is pouring this stuff down on us
dont resist it
oh its so easy
anyhow
then comes the vocal
i wanted a gruff in yer face vocal
so i go in there
with a special mike that can handle “shouting singing”
get right up close on it timbo says…like a live mike
he goes back in a fiddles around
when i start singing
my voice is whipped around in some kinda echoey thing
purrfect
the song sounds fucking amazing in the headphones
i belt out 3 or 4 versions
i do some doubles
where i try to sing along with the other voice totally wordperfect
it gives a thickness and a kind of chorusing effect
chorus effect is when two very alike things rub against each other nicely
and produce a silvery kinda sound
then i do a soft and melodic vocal
to throw in with the others
then timbo n i bang tambourines at the same time
tims got a little tambo with a “skin”
which he gets quite a complicated rhythm from
ive got an olde plastic tambo n most of the little bells’ve fallen off
im a great tambo player n i bang along enthusiastically
afterwards when we listen to it
tim turns them off
i’ll get some good ones outta here and stick em back in he says
he means he’ll sample a couple of in-time bits
and put it all thru the song
its a common process
you gain things
you lose things
by using it
but its much quicker than getting it right organically
muse : heaven forbid!
after that tim gets some harmony ideas
do whatcha like i say
im outta here
and i leave ‘im sitting there
figuring out some melodies with a guitar
my cd player is busted
so i begin the long silent drive back home
through the city n redlight areas
its raining a little
and i see the peoples faces out there hurrying about
today is nks n my wedding x
we are stretching the celebrations over 2 nights
last night was night one
nk gives me a little card with something v. nice in it
i havent got anything yet
but im up early today aint i?
see you gooseballs in the ethersoon
ttb

you know who i am
and you know what i do
i am this!
i am that!
you tune in to hear me loop around myself
you witness a man going mad
yet you do nothing
you see
you are included in my poetry here
not i wondered lonely like a crowd of clouds
but you did this
you did that
you taking re sponsa biliti
oh im over a barrel here
i dont wanna be all egotistical n write
being being being
i want to inclued you
exclusively
you as the star of my rants
you as the leading light of a new movement
a revolution of the heart
love in action
you will bathe in the glow of warm applause
you sit in the audience
you stand up and take a bow
no no
the audients arent happy with that
its…a standing fucking ovation !
the crowd are chanting for you
you you you
they want you to grace that stage
the great floodlit podium
you stumble towards the end of your aisle
treading on peoples feet
ooh sorry sir
(are you imagining this ?)
you you you
they cry out for you
you check your pocket for your speech
a sudden panic
wheres your speech
what will you say…?
can you make it all up on the spot?
in fronna all theez peeple…?
a few phrases run through your mind
“uh…unaccustomed as i am to public speaking….”
no no thats no good
“it gives me great pleasure…” well thats ok
nah someone’ll mention mr humphries…
meanwhile youve reached the end of your row
and youre walking towards the stage
clapped on by the adoring mob who cannae get enough
the howling cheering audience
you hop up on the stage easily
only assisted by some stage assistants
when they see you up there
they erupt
you take the microphone
ahem! you clear your throat n test the mic
the crowds cheers persist
with a simple hand gesture you wave them down
reluctantly now at last
they sit and the auditorium is quiet
waiting for your words
but
what will you say?
yes, what will you say?
perhaps a long pause at first
while you look around the room
at your peers
your admirers
your fans
your friends n family
your father and your sisters
your legion of well wishers
and all the faceless blurry faces
towards the back
theyre all here
theyre all waiting
waiting waiting waiting
what will you say to them?
how will you bridge this gap?
how will you
hold all of them?
go on then say it
say whatevers in your mind
go on!
quickly now
before the curtain falls
before they get up and leave
before they close the doors
and turn off all the lights
before afterwards
inevitable afterwards
afterwards waiting too
in amongst the audiences
now speak up
now heat up
now rise up
rise up like a bird….

good evening thrillseekers
its yer being back
and these fucking words are just dripping from my fingers
my lovely tapered magicians fingers
well here we are wednesday
the all-fathers day
odin who gave one of his eyes for knowledge
those crazy scandanavian gods
i tell you they knew how to live it up
of course i identified with loki more than the others
but now im ready to play him in a serious film about asgard
which in english means
the garden of the dead
or simply
boneyard
oh i would be the most wonderful loki
look if you are casting this movie
please stop here
your search is over
i am the perfect man for this part
casting odin could be tricky however
perhaps the chap who did gandalf…….
mmm…odin
he is old but strong
wise beyond belief
still sexy tho
muse : uh oh i see where this is going…..
well muse you know it really isnt that clever
the way you read my mind
but now youve spoilt the joke
muse : trust me yebby, they saw it coming a mile off
ok
i could play loki or odin i guess
muse : why not both….?
yeah…youre right..i could be both
muse : what happened with playing king whatsy in prince casp?
they never did the movie…did they
muse : you were a shoe-in, as we said in ancient greece
so you are greek, muse….?
is that why you whisper to me to move to melbourne?
ed : melbourne contains second largest greek pop in world
whos ed?
muse : i thought he was with you
ed : no i am a semi-autonomous function
back to narnia though
does anyone out there know if theyre gonna do anymore narnia films?
goddammit im gonna have to write my own set of brilliant childrens books
so i can play the choice characters when they movie-ise it
someone mentioned king lear
yes thats me too
or zeus
muse :need a bit of makeup n wigs n personal trainers for that gig
thanks a lot
muse : ive met the real zeus, yeblik…..
oh right
god im embarrassed now…is he anything like me?
muse : not really…except the white beard
anyone from those days i resemble?
muse : well….now dont get all big headed now but…
poseidon?
muse : dont make me laugh….
is it a mortal?
muse : yep
the big o?
muse: odysseus? get outta here!
was it either of the ajaxes?
muse: nope
king priam of troy?
muse : ah getting closer
oh at least he was a king then…
muse : he sure was….
not
muse : uh huh ..
you dont mean
muse : i met him ….youre a dead ringer
king midas?
muse : bingo
the king with asses ears
muse : better than an ear on your ass!