The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

sweeping sickness

well something swept in it certainly swept in

across nights portals where mere mortals fear to breathe

some pummelling bombastic germ hath conquered me good

and my ahem dental problems compounded as well

i lay in abed full of fever and ruinous dreams

where everything sweet seems wrong

every aching limb arching in the dim bleak break of dawnish banks

oh how i writhe to the heavens without any thanks

the sweating thoughts themselves shudder in darkness like mice in the wall

the inflamed repetition of some banal phrase hold you in thrall

the way you are diverted

mid thought you fade away…

oh i dont know where you go then though

its seems too soon to know said the voice below

my skin is burning in the etheric sky

i am alight and falling in pieces over allemagne

coming down so fast like a man comet ablaze the earth rushes up

i hit the ground in an agonizing jolt

but i wake up in the child who runs from his bed

to tell them about his terrible dream

dont let him go back to sleep then says a voice

let him sleep if he wants to we will watch out for him

says the voice below that

the child rapidly grows up and flies through a window in time

the father and the mother must love one another

the complex ritual of the flies buzzing in your sunlit afternoon

the clouds outside signifying everything and absolutely nothing

everything put together a bit wrong though

oh illness poisons body and mind  so effectively

swimming in a sea sick sea of nausea and deliria

i beached in my bed of tangled sheets and pillows killing my head

the ripped out tides of fortune soon to make me marooned

the doom of everyman playing the pop tune

i got this song in my head and its going round and round

its like corruption endemic at every level

some true life devil must have concocted it

some nordic giant in his studio of steel

hits record and we are in the neon season of yule

to get his sonny jims mind off the crashing dream

we all drive out to albion park rail

one hot dry and dusty christmas eve

wow theres a nativity scene we’ve driven to see

baby jesus with the shepherds and the kings

in this barren australian summer wilderness

that gives way to the fireworks going off in some night

some night like tonight in fact

i must have blacked out a minute or 2

i know there is a world beyond the tawny walls of my room

out there is everything else and more much more still to see

but trapped in echoing mind i find myself asking

who am i?

i  dont know says a voice

i do

says the voice below that

some geezer going flat chat

still life in motion

i had a dream all my teeth fell out the charts

and my songs were full of haze and bits of mauve broken shell

wandering in a wasteland of fender bits and the carcasses of bands

running lost on a deserted highway against the most purple heather evening

my hands were understanding music just as they turned off the lights

blackened backstage i stumble around amidst the props

suddenly silent the auditorium glides on empty

the players are all gone

in my humid dressing room among mannequin chatter

and some mannikin appears guarding a portal to uh enchanted place

in my drawers crushed tiny stones arranged in a helix or something

a silver thread back through oblivion

little creature who art thou so solemn and so rude?

little angry elemental bastard summoned unwillingly to this realm

this chapter of engagements

this freakshow of yesteryear today?

beyond the nominal veil of illusion

materialising within this very vortex as my lives whirl away?

oh master please forgive me 

here i am!

it said and stamped its foot

here i am to sing your song of song of songs 

that take me out along the coast no one has seen?

that take you out beyond this tricksy burble

into pastures of the blessed past?

yes that was all just a dream 

it had brushed me aside

rushing through the breathtaking hush

alive and more alive

no wicked for the rest

nature arranged at all its levels

meticulous and tuned

salt air rushes thru my murky flat

an expectancy as another storm approacheth

a vacant field where no building seems to have ever stood

with minimal undoing the undulating rain

in the shallow cave of an afternoon reverie upon my mind

the sky suddenly blackens as the parking expires

lying in bed with a thousand memories

treading the boardinghouses and the stage behind a laundry

in alleyways that connect our worlds

malcontent clouds unleashing into thimbles

empty vessels pouring into empty vessels

the heat when its all over discharged into vapour

in languid valleys i would long for

i surge to be out of this miasmic malaise

becalmed in the early saturday evening seas

i embody the time ravaged fool

adrift in the green and grey

headful of sea spray

blunt stone pearl

minutes before it all happened

in another world away

the wrong world

conscience pounding onstage

in sydney where yon darkness lies

where the alabaster statue blackened in the traffic

beckoning the baffled oncoming and unheard of hordes

warriors and addicts aside their virtually virtuous steeds

swarming in like a pack of sins

hey where you been?

in a warehouse district my deal has gone bad

some mother future where i will be as lamb

ahimsa akimbo baby my road

will be only available as download

i will be a little child again then in unknown grove by sea

the winding horns of lyonesse will surely fanfare me

but now my sweat is burning my skin

in trouble deep in

magenta evening shadows cast by the bulletin

i forget my parts up on some big old platform

the crowd were a blur

swaying outside my minds city limits

they were down by the umber river tumbling in its course

the music the machine was making

a colossal hum the hum of a god

the magnifico and dulcet miss lou lou bellette seated at the piano

why a song takes shape as it begins to fly

the words are found within thin air i believe i sing them there

the char boils up like smack suddenly gone

the women evaporate like mist in the sun

the chorus rushes to its lovers leap fifty furlongs in the sky

the groans of ecstasy made in a shady glade have faded to a dull throb

my head on a platter a matter of common cents

my flayed frayed but not afraid mind be so kind to have signed it

my electric guitar is a hundred years old

thats how they sold it to me

the tiny glowing controls that stole souls whole

i refrain from caressing its nickel strings

altho i do not have better things to do

in marvellous sydney where the humid taxi lurches along a wall

a mosquito has left your legs covered in tiny red and yellow bites

in my own head i am a hero that righteously fights for days against knights

in my groin i carry the future coin from which will spring the elemental bling

in my heart which cannot be told apart from its twin

amid the recklessness of planets out in space where they spin

oh so lovely maha vishnu dreaming out universes from pores in his skin

i guess i must have digressed

and its a hurry i’m in

white out

in the hot sydney night as conspiracies hatch in darkness

languid sea in the shadow of cliffs

in the murmur of the thunders muffled in distant clouds

reefs of sky a jungle within the box

the memory remains

retaining walls of lives juggled and lost

inhuman shield admitting soft rays

the green hundreds

the khaki fifties

the need for black money

on balconies drinking wine

under the skylights relax before a screen

the intrepid illusion of security measuring you for a size

the women show up paid for and plastic

once they were children monstrously lovely

again in the garden they piss on the roses

the gangster in nissan watches impassive

some cash would be nice but blood will do nicely

some hammer some freedom some chick and some slack

a shower in hotel where gabriel came down

a bed in the delta where the little boats go

some dog started biting i felt his fangs sinking

although it all happened aeons ago

they call you a taxi but youre still inside swimming

impossible strokes on the flesh down below

wriggling and writhing and running around them

the sand in your shoes is slowing you down

christ i see your face in the billboards and posters

in windows in mirrors in doorways and malls

in the tides that appear with their jellies and anemones

in the hum of the fan that spins in dead air

memoirobilious

yeah i wrote my mem-wahs people

it aint no hi-brow read believe me

ive been going round australia doing readings

and its been going rather well im quite chuffed

reading a chapter here and there answering questions

doing a few tunes

in qld had the pleasure n honour to be interviewed by robert forster

he seemed to like my book

it is candid and it is honest

its like …conversational..

it is not war and fucking peace

its easy

a page turner some have said

a lot of funny stuff

a lot of philosophical stuff too

a moral

an arc

a story emerges i guess

have i merely imposed meaning on the random chaotic events of my life ?

so the readings were a lot of fun

i got to meet a lot of people

sign loads and loads of books

my publishing company is very cool i like them

they put me up in hiltons every night

i did loads of interviews

i made em all smile

now someone is even interested in making a film of it all

the beat surely goes on

people liking my book and my record

i find a temporary oasis of acceptance

my struggle abates

i lay down my weary tune

dolphin street days are here

gigs on all horizons

a sense of satisfaction

i move out of the past

i shed my old skins

i relinquish regrets

here are my lives

for you

to peruse

http://thetimebeing.com/shop/books/something-quite-peculiar-book/

another room in the east

we are doing a little tour in australia playing f/d and only f/d

its going pretty well except for a few rude morons in canberra of all places

sorry you wanted to hear old songs but we’re just doing our new album

we are not at your beck n call nor are we jukeboxes regurgitating old tunes

we are the church we are unrepentant

we do what we want despite what anybody says

i cop so much flak just for doing any single fucking thing

i pursued music so diligently i did my homework

i take it all in

all of us in the church we put the time in

we put the love in

i cannot think of an album i’ve been involved in that has as much love

we are getting wonderful reviews and i thank you all for the enthusiasm

the naysayers have receded to an impotent bunch of trainspotters and tools

all of them so sure they would hate it and guess what they really do

still the general consensus is otherwise

these naysayers are like a mosquito bite on my sensitivity

they cause a minor irritation and then they are gone

the necessary bloodsucking that nature apparently demands

live the band is kicking ye olde arse

12 new songs is not an easy ask on band or audience

but it was necessary

ian has to show what he brings to the table

because he brings a lot

not some hack to churn out old songs

peter and tim are monstrously good

craig wilson on auxiliary instruments is fantastic

playing all the things nobody else can get to

me? well i make mistakes and stuff

i keep trying harder and harder

remembering a bunch of words and bass parts

the fender 6 getting a good work out

we are not perfect yet but we sure  rocking on

i am enjoying myself

i am enjoying this incarnation of the band

after all its only rocknroll

its for fun..right?

so we will be back next year in australia and elsewhere

then we will deffo be playing some old choons

it just couldnt start like that straight off the bat

yes and my book will be with us very soon too

so you have 2 completely different things to immerse yourself in

should you want to enter the fucked up zany kilbosphere

brisbane is sold out

melbourne is going to be close

both these are nice venues or so i have been told

anyway it had to be this way

i hope we come to your city next year somewhere in this world

i am very proud of f/d and of our live sound

we will persevere on into the future god willing

and we will remain true to ourselves

on that

you can rely

hemming away

less than 5 days away and fit for human consumption

music cooked up illegally in a sound lab

1000 and 1 guitars in technicolour monochrome

alone and beyond this mortal plane of pain

the music sprinkles in free fall in a dream i chanced upon

in white  straits in black water below the treble cliffs a great bass sea

we are by the great coastlines of the pasts

surfing the conundra waves singing with those freaky meermaids

down by the sea in in my vesuvian vessel those BC nights i lived and i died

i am your sailor and your cardshark and your slave

i was your priest

now all these thoughts have swirled back upon me my songs

which always have been reflections from countless unknown memories

hear…they come to life ..!

the crashing minions of our great regime grooving in the chamber

the harassed singer grasping at strawberry whine and cinnamon fixes

stoned in his tomb his body of work falls apart

all these songs and more i bring to life

the american century where i roamed unbridled through my ladyfriends mind

you mean the songs of intrigue and passion and tragedy..?

oh yes the riverbed song of the cuckolded king

the in-space announcements en route to my lemurian hideaway

the din of the silverware in no gravity field

the sound of a bass guitar come to life and playing itself

the genius wallop that capsizes yer catamaran

sweet honey harmony rose would sink in lotus pool

we explore the arcane beauty of the desert shore

we enter the moist softness of song becoming one like none

inside the cocoon the tuning up has finally begun

the increased speed begins to bleed into a guitar

that transforms in storms of white chattering and pink shard noise

cut and diced and thrown into a sound salad

my words were copied from a tablet i found in my mind

zeus the crucifier of a womans desire appeared to me

like a spear his words tear thru my ears

he says you deserve to serve me

i describe the curve he threw me

i give this gift of music to you and your friends

he says in ancient greek

luckily i know a few words

i run with the music to a stream of all your dreams

i dive down down down deep to your bed inside all our heads

deep in your bed a live feed is fed ichor some perfect honey liquor

these songs you will apprehend as a memory or dream

quickly you will come to understand them

we reached in deep to catch these ones who would have remained elusive

in all your hearts in all our heads

the unadventurous must go on ahead

this music is my compartmentalised yet slender thread

with this golden cord attached to the central god our love

we sing of his devils his angels his nephilim and his monsters

we sing of the salesman but

by night a minotaur

in song come with us then into the labyrinth

further

deeper

octobre 17 like scarlets birthday

see you hear from you

again

darkness you are my priestess

listened the record on a good system

its huge

every song is vital

every one is a mixture of dollies and sorrows

the strange turns an unbridled mind can only find

as we launch out back into the space that sent us

as we lash out against the storm overhead

and we march into unknowable futures all but unarmed

against the odds admittedly

it was unlikely we could still make such a good record

i hoped for it but didnt expect it

the detail is astonishing

sounds crowd up and rush by

guitars groan way down deep

tinkling little mechanical bells shiver near

sometimes the pounding drums subside leaving mercurial oozing songs running away

the crisp 6 string bass or the dull throb of the 4

my words and singing as i hold on to the whispering music time ghost

everything is flying by

you stand in the way and it just goes thru yer head

are you gonna stand there or not

i trap these errant thoughts and inklings

in my stony skull the words of the stars reverberate forever ringing on

a clamour of madding voices flash on and off

i cull the ideas hammering them upon song after song

the word was love it fell from on high

i am the catcher of broken fragments like chunks of pale chocolates

the dusty icing sugar of the galaxies all my lives imagined or unimagined

the furious battering north wind

a south sea isle hey baby i’m a fuckin’ missionary

i live 500 lives in america alone

popping up all over the places

all those lives appear here if you wanna know where words come from

they come from a mine in the head and once excavated leave only an ache

these words i had in me my whole life now come out on these songs

sacred songs glimpses into somewhere else another place you can go

i sing the rich young universe filled with wonder and awe

in character i falling in and out

in suits of diamonds and hearts where then is me cheque mate..?

lush beyond all possible lushnesses

fertile deltas come alive in cool coral caves

further and further

deeper and deeper

more and more

do you wanna stop yet my tiny pet or shall we keep going?

on into that universe of music to explore

a coalition of the thrilling willing

out of nothing we catapult nameless flaming balls of pure fire

in songs that crash to earth in your brain where they will remain

some new process has allowed the magic to sustain throughout everything here

it could not have been better

we have achieved our distance effortlessly

we were harnessed to luck and it left us sprawling

but we held on for a dozen or so songs

remembered them from our dreams

pieced them together with instruments and singing

ladies and gentlemen

this record is a total trip..!

further killer further

further deeper into your heart there is always music

music music music music

still dont even understand it or how to explain it

fucking music man

imagine someone reaching for every good bit you never heard

i who have scoured all our dreams and nightmares

to reveal this as it is

unreality as it is

this is my mission statement programmed in by god of my undertaking

karma yoga baby

i harness myself to this universe through these musical works

i present this lovely sea for you to swim in packed with life

the lowlife scum who haunt these new songs

the martyred ambiguous saints of the body electric

with one thousand slightly distorted guitars i bring your dreams back to you

further and deeper we must go down into meaningless depths

where it all began

in subconscious continents glamoured in ecstasy with bell son

we firsthand picked the finest guitars drowned in deeper honey

then we pounded and pummelled with the biggest drum dumbly drowning

my chest resounds with bass felt for than heard

sliding down as low as you can go

holding your breath until you emerge into the lightning white

i gotta go in another direction

i gotta god his name is perfection

i gotta girl she is my reflection

i gotta world of total connection

in substance in deed in knowledge in righteousness

44 years after

all of this now dreampt up for you by the lovely band the very nice musicians

this grand slam in spades and yet still overtricks

this flim flam this flip flop this sleight of sheet music blanketed in sound

one hundred mega bites in every weigh

amplified slur fried and fingering the fenders delicate neck

i am reminded of the tree lined streets of miami

she was better than both of us

i shoulda stayed my hand

i shoulda stayed in miami

with the seagulls and sand

but the devil is doubt

and i’m out your street

walking about

talking so sweet

i bringing your brief reminders 

i singing your softest song

i thinking its all a dream

and i’ll wake up and be gone

be gone

thats all

one day closer

to what will be

their music ever