The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

bib and young fan at charity auction

by darryl beamish-froggart

photo by jenny taylor

bib pectin is one hell of a guy

loyal to his fans who shelled out 500 bucks a pop

he appeared last night at the sydney opera house in fine feckle

the opening act veteran oz rock band the crunch struggled against disinterest

the crowd were there to see bib and front man stephen kilbys monotone nasal

only seemed to inculcate a sense of estrangement

the band waded thru their 30 year career as if sleepwalking

the audience were happy when they played their last number n exeunt

for 20 minutes we tingled in anticipation

what would bib wear…?

how would it seem….?

would he look at any of us in the crowd and wink…?

eventually bibs signature the ride of the valkyries is heard

his band walk on

many cheers for gitto fropley on the drums returning after an

operation on his earlobes

fropley signals the intro to

one of bibs greatest songs

peter o’toole is my father

a song about freedom and ownership and disputed paternity

guitarists snog comely and gerard mewcuss hit their stride

trading riffs

their mullets weaving arabesques in the dazzling light show

bass player sammy lin astonishing the crowd with those amusing antics

yeah you know

the waddle the digging-a-ditch the evil naughty boogie

piano player dring mcmaster pounds them 88s

all hell breaks loose

as bib rides on stage on the back of an….emu…?

how fucking aussie is that?

later on it turns out that the “emu” was really roadies bernie and val

but from where i was sitting i swore it was the real deal

bib swaggers around showing off his abs and pecs

a woman near me fainted and was dragged away

down the front mayhem erupts as bib touches some lucky ladies hands

man he is so sincere

he grabs the microphone and out comes that crimpolene voice

that sound of a hundred saos and peanut butter

that sound of 5 thousand sauce bottle bongs

that sound of 50 thousand sherbets at the bungy bar

all the lucky lovely ladies hes kissed

his chiselled features ruggedly lined with experience

(he looked old :ed)

he sung our lives to us

“why dont you use a fucking rake..?” his ode railing against lief blowers

“chlorine puberty” his lament for an innocent poolboy seduced by a nasty cougar

“sherbets ahoy” a joyous ode to beer and drinking

” fuck!” a song exploring a stubbed toe and bibs anguish

“dorothy, give me a bloody break!” about his ex actress dorothy dolphin

here bib uses such authentic lyrics as the heartbreakingly wrenching

” i was only down the pub so whats the fucking problem?”

his song about road rage “it was fucking orange !”

with the whole crowd joining in on

“you stupid bastard howdja ever get a licence…..?”

until the crowd took the refrain taking it to new majestic heights

while bib re-enacted an altercation with a florists truck on old south head road

snog comely is the other driver brandishing his guitar frightening like a weapon

pectin works the crowd like a shaman from the olden days

sipping beer and smoking a cig

the opera house goes nuts for his take on the national anthem

on the line

our land is girt by sea

there is not a dry eye in the whole joint

a map of australia appears complete with dots for capitals

and lines for major rivers

and broken lines indicating the states and territories

bib points out the various members states and each receives a cheer

but local boy fropley gets a thunderous welcome

as bib uses his pointer to point at new south wales

NEW SOUTH FUCKING WALES bib ululates manfully

and the local unbiased crowd responds with swooning adulation and pride

bib yells out AND NEW FUCKING ZEALAND

and there is a slight pause with nervous laughter and confusion

until we all remember that fropleys mother indeed is from auckland

fropley jumps over the kit shaking a tambourine and the crowd go nuts

its a typical bib show

is he even human?

a suburban prophet

the bondi junction wonder boy

sydneys beloved displaced cockney bastard crooner and not a bad golfer

bib takes up a simple acoustic guitar for the haunting “bank error in your favour”

a song about a mistaken stray 300 bucks bib innocently noticed

his agent had forgotten to take his cut

and bib puts down his thoughts to a strident folky tune

“fuck him he’d diddle me so i should diddle him

fuck him

he’d fiddle me so i could fiddle him

commission bullshit

ive worked my balls off all my life

so this prick can buy a mercedes for his wife…?!”

the crowd are clearly moved

its a fantastic set

his version of hey jude is simply spell binding

standing with the scarf between his outstretched hands

he encourages the crowd to sway from side to side during the

na na na hey jude bit

such an incredible feeling of unity

the rest of the night is a blast

i lose track of the treasury of wonders bib unleashes

he returns after five delirious encores and does his classic song

“oh coogee”

a song about a broken surf board mysteriously fixed

and a vision of the virgin in the waves riding a ten foot malibu

” your halo framed by a huge fucking set

like grommet in the sand

or a sherbet from a can”

genius

i rest my case*

read my blog daily froggart@spawn.com

local popular aussie pop singer bib pectin

fuck!

i just lost me fuckin’ blog!

me bib pectin

i cant believe it

i’m so unlucky it makes me bloody sick

i mean my jaguars not getting any younger

and my charisma wont always be as strong as this

jig marlong from toonby-st claire writes

oh bib i love your song about the star filled heavens…!

it helped me over the rejection of my manuscript!

yeah whatever mate good for you…..

mrs norma frost of east kennel writes

oh bib you sexy old fool…!

yes love yes

i understand

its easy to be smitten isnt it?

meanwhile my golf handicap has improved

its a fucking gentlemens game innit?

i love to smash that little ball

the bleeding ‘oi polloi cant understand that

i play with some other top stars

with twice as much money

but half as much talent as yours truly

whinging on about tax havens between putts

get on the piss at the clubhouse maybe meet some divorcees

hi i’m bib pectin

divorcee : why of course you are…..may i call you bib..?

yeah mr pectin sounds ridiculous dunnit?

divorcee : why bib youre so much more handsome in real life

aint it the truth darlin’ i reluctantly sigh

i mean i’m a sexy strong fella but its not just about that

i dont wanna be used for my good looks

i’d feel cheapened

you gotta appreciate my talent

you gotta appreciate my struggle to become an aussie icon

battling the pokies in rsl clubs

sand in my eyes singin’ at lifesaving carnivals

that time i got a nasty shock off the mike

i got a nasty rash downstairs but no one would believe me

some idiot tuned my guitar up wrong

i forgot the words to some song

christ i dunno

its not all dancing on clouds

my agent booked me a cruise gig on some fucking liner or another

i vomited on the audience the first night seasickness

the second night i dozed off on the dramamine

then we stopped at a port and i got lost n didnt get back on the ship

luckily the geeza at the aussie embassy reckoed me or i’d have been chop goreng suey

thats some heavy sitch……right?

fuck all that doom n gloom

i’m going down the bungy bar for a sherbet with me mates

life aint too bad when yer bib

eh?

the author

we vanish into memory

someone throws our clothes away

maybe someone makes a speech

maybe someone writes a column

eventually there will be no trace of us

as if we never were here

and your memory of all this will be erased

if there is a next life here

you will never remember all that passed before

stripped of all gifts and memory then we must go on

only vague predilections remaining like shadows on our souls

the evil and good we have done will shape futures to come

the neglect will see us neglected

the perfect will see us perfected

i’m gonna have to fight all these battles again soon

because i havent gained any ground in this round

the wheel turns but i dont move on

nature is our mother she is also cruel and wicked

each tragedy now is a bastard of a thing

so hard to handle you just switch off

one night soon this world might end in tears

cant you feel it coming down the line?

something quite bizarre and avoidable

but seems like inevitability this far in

in some ways my life is a failure if i dont ever learn

sidetracked by mysterious illusions

vanity lit up fits and tantrums

hurl my spear of words and music

tremble on the perpetual verge of realisation that……

oh i can never remember

i was talking to friend of mine when i realised they were gone

the line was silent

the crystal ball was empty

the screen reflected only the face of some old guy with a beard

nothing is easy and no one is happy

a puzzle within an obstacle course contained inside a bewildering maze

i’m falling for the same old tricks

i’m laughing at the same old jokes

i’m banging my brand new head on the same old wall

i jump out the same old window expecting not to fall

cant face the truth  cant face the lies

some bit of me can only live when the other part dies

i cant see nothing it hurts my eyes

in the ugly mirror where time really flies

we vanish into memory

cant find a beginning

i guess i’ll start here

the white afternoon and its blur

a silence of winds and faint bird sounds

the trees move according to their branches and leaves

scarlet sits here quietly eating apricots and sometimes sighing

with her huge blue eyes she regards the bleak afternoon

eventually she says nice day today dad isnt it?

coloured prayer flags flutter n flap next door at the nepalese place

city enveloped in a cloud

weird crimson moon comes out of nowhere

the girls and friends come home

run round the house stamping and yelling out

giggling squabbling chattering full on

the windows rattle and bang

i have misplaced my superpowers today

some mirrors are kind but not many

white screen sears my eyes as i type

coloured lights hanging red and yellow

black kitten purrs on my chair

the ending remains elusive

so i might as well stop there

avida dollar$

the players assemble

it never gets any easier

from macbeth to mack the knife

we read our lines

we make the gestures

locked into character

we stalk these stages

we move in and out of focus

we embrace and ignore the others

at the end of long days suddenly

the theatre closes down

out on grim snowy streets we are adrift

i knock on various doors i find

in a corridor of doors

in a roomful of white gardens

in market place within a globe of snow

i am sorry i have never been outside before

i do not know how to act when i’m not acting

once everything was taken care of

i knew what to say and when

the bullets were blanks

the sky and trees just props

the music written especially for each scene

singing and dancing and moving to cues

out here where life is harsh

this winter bores into me

my words unheard declaimed from a gutter

the birds sing ugly songs

incessant upheaval

impossible weariness

each new day staggered out of future

yes i deserve everything the good and the bad

a snake on a ladder

a viper in romes bosom

a slow worm on a fast track

we should undo all that we did

the void is kinder than we’d imagine i’m sure

otherwise it would not be

nothing has become something

sometimes the opposite is true

my characters taught me much

and i marvel how they possess me still

and how time flies when you having your best shot

and time stops when you forget just one line

and opening nights and the end of a run

in a chemical glow of faces and seats

the audience awaiting just beyond the crimson curtains

merciless critics

adoring fans

the rustle of programmes

maybe only last year

i strode on the stage

prospero to the nines

my cloak with its magical signs

a tower on a wild isle

but i was a magician among the spirits

and how ariel obeying my commands

shot thru the sky on an almost invisible harness

winched by the stagehands in another universe behind the facades

and the mechanical waves went up and down

and at the movement of my staff

the sound of thunder

the flash of  artificial lightning

the vague sound of torrential rain

how they roared as i cast my spells into that firmament containing mayhem

ariel calling down the storm

turmoil vivid like a scar

all shot through with delicious revenge

afterwards as i took off my makeup

the players chatting quietly and smoking cigarettes

i was still in the mirror with miranda and caliban

and the isle swirled around my wild eyes

outside here

the real life

waking from a sweet fleeting dream

up against the present stretching on all sides

absolutely impenetrable

the past is inviolate

even for prospero

who lays down his magic

and retires into obscurity

improbable combination

outside sydney flies past

century on century

everything already forgotten

the life that had so much meaning

the show must go on

so you say

the flash fades

the clouds curdle

little stories going on in between everything

atoms smashed

details noted

space ahead of its time

we were all fools

now lets get back to work

except for the holidays

when we stand in a bar screaming at a screen that can never hear

content has been modified to fit the width of your thoughts

blurred sound

the confining frame

thin film

loads of gloss

an increased level of crime

the appearance of some indefinable lazy anger

i struggle with my distant regrets

i mean what would you do

eventually we drop out of the futures

drink a cup of kindness yet

xerox debris

travel trash

you jet some

you float some

return home

return address

the following damage

burnt myself trying to get warm

repeated myself but only once

harmed myself unarmed

all those drugs what you expect

cant remember the womans names

my account is empty

soon someone demands that you pay up

the phone rings on n on in a deaf mans home

the numbers are hidden

maybe i’m just seeing something in it

the weather is still

very warm

tomorrow something else

i kinda got used to being lost

and i found it

amusing

phrygian archer

rented a dvd of the odyssey made circa 1997

watched it with the girls

aurora in particular going thru an acute ancient greek phase

anyway here are a few thoughts

it was 2 part tv mini series originally

ok

the minuses

there was no siren scene

c’mon guys thats like alice without the white rabbit

its like narnia without the white witch

its like the bible without goliath

i dunno what were they thinking….?

2. no land of the lotus eaters no cattle of the sungod

3 the sea monster which eats laocoon is simply silly

4 poseidon appears as a corny face in a wave

and has a dopey reverbed hollywood voice

5 the north wind god with the brooklyn accent

however the pluses easily outweigh the minuses for sure

armand assante is a very good odysseus

noble brave and handsome

sometimes looking very battered and humbled

at other times regal and very hawk-like

a sterling performance that you will enjoy

one can see why the ladies all woulda fancied him

you can see why his men would have been devoted

the depictions of his time with circe and calypso are feverish dreams

in circes palace odysseus n the boys lie around

eating grapes peeled for them by a bunch of saucy supernatural handmaidens

so out of it on hedonism they dont notice the years flying past

its a pretty far out scene and a shame odysseus had to drag those guys outta there

merely to get eaten up by various sea monsters

when they coulda still been there now

drinking wine and taking a bath with some ever youthful immortal bint

so off their trolleys that months pass like moments

and moments like months

look sign me up for this and dont bother waking me out of it either

i can think of worse ways to spend an eternity

anyway circe is a real fruity fruitcake of a witch

when the big O does not succumb to her tricks

she realises how sexy our hero is

and drags him off to some very kinky witchy nooky

vanessa williams as calypso is a different kettle of fish

a divine sea nymph horny as all hell

but unlike circe who was just using our hero for kicks

calypso falls hard for our dude

by this time odysseus has lost his crew

hes washed up on an island inhabited by calypso n her girl posse

another bunch of pseudo egyptian mute cuties who giggle n coo

as they watch odysseus and calypso get it on in the old cave

odysseus gets sucked in again (ooh mr humphries…!)

and spends more long years wrapped up in some pleasurable ennui

dancing around with the nymphs banging the drum and calypso

she washes him in the lovely sea pools on her island

like a holiday resort in a modesty blaise movie

eventually hermes shows up n calypso watches our hero leave

with palpable emotion

hermes is kinda nifty as a super gorgeous gay god

all golden smirking and supercilious

he hangs in the air with his golden nappy thingy

i kept thinking he would burst into a jobriath song

anyway

even after calypso offers him eternal days of sex n drugs n rocknroll

he turns em all down n leaves for home

now at home greta scacchi is his wife besieged by a bunch of suitors

lead by the very evil cunning handsomely wicked eric roberts

you just know all these nasty types gonna end up on odysseus’ bad side

and of course eric gets it last of all

this is an amazing scene and old oddy gives it to em good

hes pretty self righteous however for a dude who just spent a decade

having fun with a couple of hot immortal strumpets on pleasure islands

but there ya go a nice double standard

eventually reunited with his queen

all is well in ithaca

and everybody here agrees a good time was had by all

yeah

sorta recommended ….

autumn sooner

midnite in australia

words fill up my head

my vain brain torments itself like picking a scab

gonna hurt my pain

think of you again

i thrash out my time through colour on paper

the photographs of our memories have faded into woodwork

the stars are behind the light violet clouds

someone arrives downstairs

a door closes and all is silent again

finally kick one goal and i’m jubilant

on almost everything i am divided

a civil war between the men and the women

casualties casually staggering up the evening, primrose

oh its still warm

the back door is open

the kids are asleep

the black cat nips around like a panther on angelfruit

wow some instinct hurls him about

attacking stuff and feinting and rolling around like a kung fu star

my eyes hurt in this computer electric light

my blurry eye opens out light like a sun

i wipe away at smears on my lenses

but my vision is been dimmed

sometimes i do long for rest

wake up somewhere else someone else sometime else

in australia its 12

the witching hour has commenced

they say my house is haunted now

will i still get my bond back?

i have seen her too

that ghost out the corner of my mind

i dont care one way or the other

luck can change

everyones a player

the dice fucking rolls

66 66 66

round the board you go

your credit card has demagnetised your room key sir

your message has been deleted

invite your friends to join you on some new sight

ok

one of my minds just blew a rotor

we can still land on just one

oh dear its the left one still working

thats it for tonight then

muse inc impropriety unlimited

either you got it

but i dunno

maybe you can work on it

maybe theres a billion ins a trillion ways

maybe theres a hundred thousand lives you will lead

think of all those days

wheres it all coming from

all of it….?

all that stuff on the shelves of shops

all those words on the blind poets lips

all the electricity

all the plasma

all the music never running out

i am insane i am sane i am tuned in to an other frequency

i voyage thru my sadness madness

memories fill my billowing melancholy

i see bird phantoms in the clouds

after a while an invisible hand guides me

i had crossed some line

a bermuda triangulated inside my head

i go all the way back you know

like we all do

never was a time we did not all live

i have been ripped from other times clawing to hang on

i have died and woken up a century before my birth

and i take it all in on somehow

this life came provided with my muse who lives in my head

sometimes i try to get a good look at her

yes its a she you know because i hear her voice

the words that come to you now

or say on priest = aura

dictated in some foreign glyph

my muse is ancient baby

sometimes she say think of it yourself you lazy bastard

othertime after we have been close for a while she let me have it

right between the eyes

its so fucking obvious

right between the eyes

creativity everybody got their own way

everybody must do this for themselves or be nothing

this is holy profane brilliant stupid new old

a real comi-tragedy a blockbusting flop

use your hurt

transform your joy

dive deep

skim the shallows

one at a time

all at once

what would i know…?

trust me i’m an expert…..!

revere saraswati

even if she is non existent it cant hurt

i walked around with a picture of her in my pocket

i took it out n i thought about how i wanted to excel

to glorify god

to get a big pat on the back

to soothe beasts

to pull chicks

to impress some prick  in some stupid bar

to continue on to soldier on for art n show biz

because i was hooked on the applause

and i needed the cash

and i liked making people feel good too

it turned me on to turn people on

suddenly my band improves all the time

our conditions have been somehow most favourable

we hung in there

everything flows nicely

we attract like attracts like

its all a fluke

you’ll get your turn

work hard

slack off

jack off

crack up

break thru

shake up

its all valid

its all a game

all of it

take it seriously just the right amount

have a fucking laugh at yourself

have a good cry for me

drowning in girls in my own house

hanging on to a kitten

struggling to get one thing done

fumbling with the keys

at the door to eternity