The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

smoke n mirrors

music what is it?

what is a song a song a song….?

i work on my album alone for better and worse

for better because its pure

for worse because i aint no virtue-oh-so

but what i got …

what have i got….?

i got a glaring individual eccentric idiosyncratic attitude

i do things my own way

it all ways yields re-salts baybee

i mean i cant seem to really go wrong

it doesnt (dark) matter what i do

i never come up empty handed ever and i never did neither

with just the right amount of everything

good enough to play it

but not good enough

to become fascinated with my own instrumental virtue-oh-sity….

i get the job done

the job is the song

the song is the thing

never minded some fancy playing

i mean i wish i could

but i can only be one me at a time

whatever that means

apocrypha is coming

why i wrote a little song last night….!

why what is that my how many numbered song?

aurora : dad, how many songs have you actually written?

me : thousands n thousands …(sigh)

so last night i add another to the stack

a short little number under 2 minutes

with a plaintiff slide part in stereo n some crunchy young guitar

mellifluous bass etc

wry sad ironic lyrics yeah you know the score , my sweet pigs

yeah you know how good this is good it will be good better be kill be

oh an old master bay be i be doing this song thingy so long

it is truly my calling my vocation my porpoise my ex- spurt-ease

yes i am good old narcissistic sissy space-ex rockin’ rollin’ on a river bay bee

uh huh oh mymy my how nice you look shimmyin’ to apocrypha

i was born to make this moosic for ya

solo  n behold

itll be there soon

in yer ipod in yer car stereo

and you’ll wonder

yes

wonder how you ever lived without it!!

s k bondi beach in the tree top studio in cloud

‘ave a go ya mug!

APOCRYPHA 

my new album

a sprawling drawling falling myster-piece

42 years of bass guitar

oh hyper-draw

oh resonated space texture

oh ragtime noodle bang crash wallop

oh rocknrollin’ bitch for you

apocrypha

oh i’m talkin’ my album up

oh apocrypha …are you the blessed record ever made?

solo

so low

so high too

guitar screamin’ at me through the sonick mysts

pounding away them debils riddims

all this music art my fingertips

i am a delirious dervish knew nothing

i contain music in here …(struggles)

jamming with myself oh

a strategy for everything

a shame when i die a million recording secrets

how i get my sound

how do i know what i’m doing?

i dont

i am guided by a pop instinct so fierce it devours triple yes album for brek-fest

i am coming down hard now my fender jazz oh watch out

you rubbery snaky thing you unquantized mess

apocrypha unfinished like life yet

thank you for all the songs wherever they come from

i guess i ripped em from a uni-vurse next door

i guess i burnt em deep in my hardest drive i got em down pattern

i guess you can just go anywhere and i just do

i wander wherever the tune wanna go

i just hold on tight

i pick up some lyrics at the gate

some birds were singing ooh la la apoc-rypha 

i’s pickin’ up on this crazy fuckin nature thing a high a real high

ooh la la apocrypha 

so i pick up my axe and i spring onto my feet

and a bassline comes thrummin’ down the line

boom boom boom

oh i knock myself out on the ceiling

bang i put my head through the sky

i up in a cloud now but my fingers still pluckin’ at the string

ooh la la bay-bee apocrypha

i say a spell

i know damn well you need this one so bad now

apocrypha oh you dying star oh remote and far

huh!?

what can i say

the hype starts here!

insert your own life !

coming soon

APOCRYPHA  !

see holly@thetimebeing.com for a mug story

bookie

i have a story in a new book

just out

called

a song for the road

my story is called

i sing the infernal eternal tour

there are other stories by such people as adalita ,deniz tek

paul kelly, mark seymour etc

my story is some grimy hyperreality

i dont think youre gonna wanna tour after reading it

but its still a good read (i guess!?)

meanwhile a film im doing the music for is a new version of macbeth

filmed in tasmania

surprising how a tassie wilderness looks so much like a scottish wilderness

and the forests too…wow!

getting closer to becoming a reality and early next year hopefully it will be finished!

needless to say its an amazing film and amazing music (no it really is!)

you wait and see

keep your eyes n ears out for macbeth and remember where you heard it first!

meanwhile im keeping this blog short because im working hard on my album

yep

its a beauty and im labouring over it lovingly for ya

true solo albums i enjoy is todds hermit of mink hollow

and petes who came first

anyway this baby should be ready before xmas

a rambling eccentric eclectic and weird bunch of tunes for you all

probably will turn out to be the greatest album evermade……?!

not sure tho, maybe im just an insane egotist

running amok with all these guitars n stuff here

writing oddly meaningful things you only ever half hear

im only ever half here

so…

back to werk!!

sk

pneuma

people say to me

whats it like to be a visionary?

well if thats what i am this is what its like:

as i move through the world today

each place foists its vague memories on me

in a series of blurry vignettes n  echoey whispers

a million things are implied in my mind

i hear names

i see inside the houses

i remember things

mostly good things

mostly lovely warm feelings of contentment

like eating breakfast on a sunny day

or lying in bed sleeping with somebody on a cold stormy night

or reading a book by the fire

in days before power

a million lives drip into my mind

every street calls me

every window i see the faces of the past

i contain sorrow and joy

and their friction inculcates my openess

i cant concentrate

the children all talk to me

i say huh……?

i am a tuner scanning the frequencies

i pick up the chatter of the ages

i hear the bygone days through the gauze

i feel the impression of their feelings

left on times fabric

scars in its hide

everything flows through me then

a sleepy dreamy feeling

like a whale feeding on tiny tons of plank

i dont know what any of this information is

it all just blows through me as it were

i am deficient of the shield that seems to keep it out for others

god and the world are in and around me

no judgement no agenda no ulterior motive

my life is a film gone haywire

all these other actors all these other parts

no one knows where we are going

no one is driving this world through the darkness of space

something good at the end of the journey

something warm and calm like a bath and a cuppa tea

a narnia for sinners who want to go home

a lovely sensible and very english result

choose your own heaven n go in for the prize

acres in dreamland just for a song ….just a song…!

the spirit is a sea we all swimming through

so real so palpable

this liquid invisible prana

this golden chi power

god what are we waiting for …?

maya with its sex n drugs n rocknroll

fine print in the sand

an opera recorded in a sea shell

a painting of the wind

a pattern in a wave

fleeting arc of orgasmick  surge

fragments of shake in a bag

the nights of beltane

murmurings from assyria i still listen somehow

my teenage lovelives in their simple naivete

the western gates of this city in ruins

under enormous strains from the witch who reigns

the complexity and brilliance of nature yes of course

the vegetals listen they are talking to you

coca leaf and poppy and the vine and the bark

the mushroom which grows by itself in the dark

oh its all becoming quite clear  to me now

how the pummelling sea beats the shore in the night

how the angel watches over his ward so unseen

how the devil is stupidity dripping with cunning

but nothing they offer you is worth even a look

where is it all coming from where is it going

where is the bait n where is the hook

we are the broth who are the cooks

i was a little trout in a tiny brook

my zone is unmarked

you can wander off the road here

in this hazy fog of my life

shapes coming out of the mist

i mighta guessed

god not on the guest list

(someone hissed)

boogaloo druid

the devotionalist

asking only for guidance

i am before you

the grey sky

my plants my shrubs my pygmy fig

you shower me with blessings

my daughters my health my pleasant life

still i want more from you

i wanna walk in the spirit

enough mucking around

i think you are every where and no where

i assume you are every god ever yet still you are none of them

i suppose that you exist yet do not exist

i reckon that you are interventionist and non interventionist

i admit i know very little about you

only that i sense you should be there

otherwise this is, on its own, absurd

i cannot look at the one billion systems around me

the patterns the images the reflections the songs

i cannot see them and not think of you

but its such a hard slog my friend

even for guys like me who got it easy

this life has been a respite for me

i mean in my other lives ive fought in wars

and given birth and been beaten and died and struggled

this life was a day off so to speak

due to some merit i must have built up in the karma bank

i took an incarnation with a western family in a rare time of relative peace

well i narrowly escaped vietnam i guess by one year

and i was most fortunate to live in a time of religious tolerance

and i have a great love for JC, krsna and buddha

horses for courses i say

what have i done with my opportunities i wonder allowed

making a last minute dash to tip the scales right now tho

i am a tiny lightbulb

you are the lightning

i can go a little brighter if you give me a little more zap, chap

go on it would be interesting to see what i might do with it

oh i would use it for good yes you wait and see

i mean i might go bad with more power

but i would certainly resist the temptation better now than before

before when all that hubris was blocking out the light

i know its unusual to pray on a blog

but hey its 2012

lets share this with everyone

i know you exist because i felt you one time

and had plenty of feelings and dealings before

i could write some good songs on logic with your help

imagine if you will the stuff we could come up with

my paintings would improve

my life would be better

talk about charisma….ah i’m starting to go wrong…

give me a job and see how i go

start me off small …i dont mind…i work for free…

gimme some words i write you a tune

people will love it

it will remind them of you

without even mentioning your names

i bet they will hear your influence

yeah that stuff in the bible n gita

and the pali sutras …you were on fire…!

i guess i should leave it at that

or readdress this prayer to goddess saraswati

since i seem to be asking for supernatural aid for my work

yes well to be honest i am asking for that

help me do something outta the hat…!

wasnt that a dainty dish to set before the king?

deep weariness sets in

sleep insists that i lie down

my heaviness as gravity takes hold

my face against a pillow like a thousand tons

i ache to close down

morning come and gone again

our shop closed down

soft rain begins

hushed breathless in the crook of dawn

the sun to rise out of the sea

i alone in sleep entangled

the waves stop pounding the shore

the bird leaves off his singing

the trees silently singing off their leaves

i am merged in slumber though somehow aware

i wander thru the houses of my lives

in spain in chicago in norway in broome

take away this pain i will follow you anywhere

i was in one of my meaningless songs

i was a verse that didnt rhyme

i was a sour note amongst the orchestral stabs

i was a burnt bridge to an isolated chorus

i was alone alright

everyone had left me

i woke up in a freezing cold room i didnt recognize

i woke up crying and bawling neither in one place or the other

something had changed in the world while i slept

my own mind has whipped up this malevolence against me

trapped in my body my brain subjected me to a constant barrage

i sort through my things

i trudge up the stairs

the hammering clock

the bursting mains

the crackling power

the carpet burns my eye

the mirror hangs like a man

the slow motion frame of its reflection

another sea sparkles in its distances

another sky bluer and truer

i step into the shower of agonizing wetness

the water rips my skin and leaves me just a dream shivering

anyway i got nowhere to go in a dream or a song

no bills to pay nothing to arrange

a car pulls up we drive to a airport

no one says a word i sit in the soft comfort

we whirl through the cities with the stars and the malls

on outskirts of paris lost on a map

the dawn at the window pale and sickly

the dawn at the door eluded by you

the dawn at the station where a few ghosts have gathered

the dawn on a road where emptiness travels

the dawn when youre out on the street alone

when nobody knows you and nobody feeds you and nobody sees you

when nobody offers you  land or a throne

the dawn struggles at first taking tiny rosy steps

no i must wake up now

no i must sleep some more

then im on a plane hurtling thru icy clouds

i’m pinned to my chair having a scare

oh jesus save me i whisper

and the sky becomes peaceful

but when we land i never thank him or mention my gratitude

a voice says

the sky would have become calm anyway…

then my bag has gone missing…

sweet buddha dont lemme lose my bag i say

and then suddenly it turns up alright

i forget to thank him

and a voice says

it would have turned up on its own..

a car waits for me

it is the new dawn here

the dawn of all things in this place

i have flown so long chasing this dawn

dawn of seagulls dawn of cool breezes

dawn of pines dawn of sands

dawn of minute bites

car speeds on through dawn

i doze in the back

a female companion holds my hand

no i am still alone

i jerk awake

i am asleep in a hotel foyer

my neck hurts

the elevator wont work

i trudge up the stairs

someone opens a door

someone hands me a key

i yawn again

i awake in the car driving through the dawn

the dawn has grown stronger

the dawn almost now the day

my brain is engulfed in nausea

my stomach is numb and empty

the boat is leaving with sleep up on it

i long for bed for warm anonymity

i long for oblivion the end of all troubles

i long for some softest angel to anoint me with love

i long for the formulae to untangle myselves

the truth is fragile

the truth is evolving

the truth is a car crash from ten different angles

the truth is a memory you never had

the truth is

i’m tired

normally mad

as 2012 nears its end

things get madder and madder

madder sea madder field madder lake

its insanity out there

people arguing people cursing people lying

conditions seem to align for dissent

no one can trust anyone with anything

yeah faking it or just scraping by

so much stuff to sort through

no source is accepted as indisputable

it seems you must question everything

nothing is a given

conspiracies abound round paranoia

join the queues who accuse

i dont trust myself anymore

i mean who do you believe….?

halfway thru the movie

the good guys are turning out to be villains in spades

everytime the villain shows his face

some of us kids scream out ..oh no there he is..!

the villain looks at us and says shhhh!

hes angry with us now…!

the rest of the kids in the audience turn round frowning

and so it is the villain appearing …us screaming….

why cant the others see him there threatening the heroes and heroines?

ha ha in the sauna theyre arguing over the amount of steam

in the pool some stupid swimming club has monopolised 4 of the lanes

the rest of us swim up n down bumping into each other

people i dont even know say hello to me

hey sk …!

a guy calls out

see you at the ent cent with simple minds…!

ok i say

you will!

i thought i was alone in this crowd…..

persecution causes deception

causing more persecution n need for more deception…

i lie under torture to make it stop

i rat out everybody even myself

i deny christ before that cock crows thrice

yeah you know the nazarene …says someone

nah…not me…i never seen ‘im ..i hear myself croak

in chambers of my heart jesus and my father and my heavenly father

they watch on

sad at my wrong decisions yet mostly understanding

abide with us…they say ….

meanwhile in the turmoil of the real life

the hurly fucking burly baby

dog eat dog eat dog eat dog

cat fuck screaming cat

pig snort lion roar

eagle soar

skyscraper carnivore ….

cue short interlude piece

i am the time being

stuck in time like a fly in glue

here i am with this one weird life

i saw my daughters play last night in sydney

it was in a smallish noisy club and my ears were killing me

behind the ear plugs i’d stuck in

the sound ricochets in my head

these 2 girls come on and sing some songs

i cant believe these 2 are my daughters

its like science fiction to me

i dont believe any of this sometimes either

identical twin singers one dark one blonde

who is writing this stuff…?

sometimes people say tell me about your memories

i remember going to a gig once

and took one twin with me

it was a week in ibiza in 98

the weather was hot the water was so warm

a lovely couple gave us their flat

we ate dinner every night at 11 pm

we went to beaches and we swam

and my daughter had a little blow up  boat

and we would play with that

me coming up from under

and capsizing her and things like that

and we walked through the tourists and cafes

we went up to the look outs and looked out

on the flight back to sweden people were smoking on the plane

that was the last time i ever saw that

tho many musicians etc i knew used to smoke hash tobacco joints

on the way to london n back

its incredible to think of now…so much has changed..

my daughters singing in a club

the sculptures by the sea

the tempestuous weather

as the noose draws a bit tighter

ask not for whom the bell tolls

it tolls for thee

a whirlpool of events is unleashed

the most unlikely thing true

the truest thing unlikely

i guess my daughters arent bad at all

not that i can hear that much under these conditions

they move about and seem confident

but i find it hard to get distance from them

i cant really tell whats happening

i have my own thing

i understand that

they have their own thing

they have utilised their predispositions

to create some lovely stuff

what they do will make people happy

it comes from a good and kind place

i do very much like what they do

but obviously i would say that …wouldnt i?

all my daughters bring me great joy

i cherish the thought they can

with their diverse gifts

make some people happy in this world

because we can always use a bit more of that

meanwhile im working on a new album

its just coming out so im just going with it

just some new songs and all that

hoping to get it out by dec

will keep ya posted

sk

uncondition apply

on the day school ended mesmer was in his room

with his skeleton voices and his spirit key

with his muslin control dart with his familiar charge

with his blast of iodine wine see weed full of soul

mesmer mesmer mesmer…!

call the mes-mermaids

in his room in the hotel by the sea

where palm trees crackle neon armour garden

drinks smokes girls coloured lights

warm stormy weather make mesmer wander

i say  :

mesmer leave your room with its gadgets and mini bar

so mesmer wanders through the tree lined aves

so mesmer approaches the sea in his white linnet suit

in his statement of intents he pulls on a clause

he dressed in flowery words from another old time

he dons musk limit oil saturated thread bear strong

in whirlpool of white star in vortex of matter

mesmer in his costume oh such a sight to see

all the lovely ladies ….

LOOK AT ME……!

mesmer by the rockpools with his crab and mussel

mesmer with the tourist inside of hustle bristle

now he jumps into the greenish waves

that roll out to the shore like little moving aqualine hills

like opaline dream all green and hush….the screen…..

we see mesmer appear down here where the shadows sound sincere

little bleaters lotus eaters from st peters own town st paul

i cracked every nut i peeled back the shell and there was nothing there

on the shore of my nescience i’m shorted out in my under-whirled where

mesmer is such a fine sight to see

in his lobster house hymn dimly aware of the stars

he conks out on his plonk when he awake the ache break out

mesmer wake with stranger on his sea

she drowning under surfers turbulent murmurs

in fact she prefer this

on new years eve steve and mesmer hit tequila round the dealers

the esplanade is gone somehow now

and all those girls we kissed up and down loves lane

they have faded into an old pain

hemming away at sea

how i long for my indian garden

i live within the temple

i come out at dusk as it begins to grow cooler

i come out at dusk

i hear the birds and the lowing of the cattle

a flute and tamboura

i roll out my mat and stretch out downwards

my feet grip this earth

my hands reach out ahead

my head hangs between my shoulders

and i stretch against myself

the way a dog or cat stretches

in my indian garden there is a light warm rain

i smell sandalwood incense

i turn my attention towards god

but my mind races and races

no quieten down !…. i say

but my mind is hither is thither restless and stubborn

i perceive a conflict between my heart and my mind

my heart asks me

is not a chance meeting with god not enough for mind to still itself ?

and then mind says

if god will appear….. then i will become quiet…..

nevertheless i continue with my yoga

i wonder who i is who is continuing

a voice says

that is your eternal soul 

i stand up and look out

the jungle all around

i am a wandering monk, i am an itinerant madman

but i live here now in this temple to some ancient shiva

and my indian garden full of statues

every god blows my mind and heart

vishnu the gorgeous one the preserver

ganesha the kindest merriest god

jesus the man of sorrows and the son of man

krsna god of love and beauty

radha his consort radiant and serene

buddha avatar of vishnu, the blessed one

odin the allfather who gave his eye for knowledge

ishtar fertlility goddess and mistress of stars

known as isis easter she comes as dream

loki king of tricks father of monsters

jove jehovah masculine and huge, a jealous flame

his will be done

brahma who looks past present future

poseidon from the waves frowning and angry

i kneel to every god i kneel to one

i kneel with my face against my mat and i breathe

when i stand up the loveliness of it all strikes me

gratitude for all this

for it did not have to be so

i dont know

i feel god in and around me

then suddenly gone

when i least expect it i am talking to myself

my indian garden throbs with vegetal life

i see god in every little weed and plant

in the stones and dust in the atoms and emptiness

god is there immanent

i focus

he is gone

i am elated i am crushed

i stand in garudasana

my single foot on the ground finds balance

i sway and i move

i concentrate on my body in its posture

i will yoke my self to whatevers out there

the universe or god or both or some other force

god approaching is a warm feeling

warmer than the warmest most delicious day in the sun

when you were a child you felt warm and safe

my indian garden holds me in that way

my temple room is cool and simple

i live in the cell of an ascetic

still the mind races and races

still the heart yearns for women or chocolate or power or something

god is reluctant

his visits are fleeting

oh krsna my dearest friend oh come to me now

oh krsna i call your name in the emptiness of jungle

down by black lakes where white egret soars

oh jesus come to me at midnight

oh jesus i am sitting on my mat in lotus

i strive towards you too hard and then you cannot come

other voices in my head drowning out my prayers

oh mother kali then take me in your arms

the end of a world is coming

and the beginning of all others

oh god the hint of you is more dreamy than a gallon of opium

in my indian garden the weeds flower

the night daze amaze me

you drain devotion

i spend lives chasing you

tell me why do you have to be so elusive?

i rebuke you all for leaving me dangling

feeding me tiny morsels you keep my hopes alive

oh god if i ever catch up with you

if i ever get my hands around your cross

if i ever walk with you again by those glorious pools

i always forget my questions when i do see you

whichever shape you appear in

oh i never approach the real big you

but you come in one of your forms

they all are good for me

i know who it is behind all of this

sometimes my private prayers are answered

god oh you have been so good to me

you are that mysterious event that no one can name

you put it in motion you maintain it in motion

oh such poetry oh such geometry oh such continuity

oh god how you combine the obvious with the mysterious

every move you make

your tiniest leaf

well i sit in my indian garden looking at your tiniest leaf

the symmetry of its veins the graduating colours

if this were indeed your only work

why i could stare at it forever

today i saw a far-off whale

its huge white plume erupting from a churning ocean

of course i thought of jonah

i chase you

he ran from you

no one can find you if you dont want to be found

none may hide from you if you beckon to them somehow

in my indian garden i repeat my mantra

my mantra concerns five rings of existence

the fifth part of the mantra is gods name

slowly my heart steadies and quietens

surely my mind settles down eventually

i sit there in my indian garden

jungle city garden ocean

ive had everything

ive lost everything

now there is only god

villages lakes rivers hills

birds children pilgrims kings

priests singers soldiers doctors

wives daughters sisters girls

in my indian garden i sit and wait

and my impatience seems to wane

even tho the waiting never ends

the anticipation of gods arrival is nevertheless delectable