posted on May 5, 2007 at 1:55 am

i “come to” after who knows how long
i am standing outside this gig in luxembourg with jan
jans been raving on n on about our music
but my system is unable to accept compliments
like a thirsty man trying to drink a mirage
i draw no succour from anyones praise
i cannot fill this black hole in me with this stuff
when i was a kid reading the nme n creem
i thought mmm thats what i need
some geezer saying i made a great record
its not arrogance
jan notices my eyes have wandered
im staring off into the distance
thinking about what?
i finish the joint and toss the butt still smokin’ in the gutter
i feel like clint eastward in front of this uptight but lovely person
jan laughs nervously
whats yer ph dee in again? i ask
i am an ashtro-physicist ……
no it not that much….
neither is being in the fuckin’ church….
but schteeve you are my fafourite band…EFFER!
ok then…im glad
i cant believe these academic types love us
if i was an astrophysicist or gynacologist
or economics guru
i doubt whether id bee blowing a joint
outside some dive with this olde scruff like kilbey is
i go inside
5 minutes says someone
good luck schteeve says jan and shakes my hand
thish has meant so much to me! jan says
i don my wrinkled salt encrusted still damp clothes
the rest of the band sip their drinks or fiddle about
none of us is nervous
a little bit of nervous is good
but we aint been nervous for ages
the intro music plays
cmon i say to others
obliviously having a conversation or something
cmon i say
the intros on
you go on they say
we’ll be out inna minute
eventually we go on
late as usual
the place is half empty
its also half full
i pick up my bass
and i start to sing
and something happens
the heavy bass of the soundcheck is now a feather in my hands
my body is filled with a restless rush of energy
im so relaxed
but im so alert
im a bit drunk n stoned too
but the rush of energy is cancelling them out
the words come falling out of my mouth
my fingers play n play
occaisionally i think
or f#
but mostly they just do it
i stand back n watch myself singing
and playing
the drums so loud
pounding like my blood
the screams of the guitar
the roiling churning physical sea of sound we create
an inexorable vortex
my earpiece slips out
i cant believe how loud it is
a solid wall of bristling electricity
forget jingle jangle pop music baby
this is a visceral spiritual sexual assault on you
i see jan up the front completely gone
eyes closed
swaying in some other time
sway jan sway
the audience are going bananas
im surprised n im not surprised
our music is like a razor blade at 120 decibels
every guitar note hangs around all night
the pressure builds up n up
when i play the low notes on the bass
i see people respond like they been kicked in the guts
or just seen their woman with another man
we take you through the moods
sad happy stunned triumphant desolate angry
all in one minute
and back again
i sing the words i designed to conquer you
i sing the words no one else but me would have written
god says steven i put you here to write these songs
now fucking write em!
i sing the words
and i see how some words affect some
and some words affect others
i sing n i whisper n i ham it up
im confident im shy
im so detached
im so tired n world weary
but im eager to please
and i say stupid things
and i say majestically grande things
that they didnt think i’d say
n i make em laugh with my egotism
n with my bashful unsureness
and i make it look easy easy easy
why anyone could do this
i strike ridiculous poses while i play
rock parodies of my beloved yoga poses
god says mix it up you crazy fool thats what its for
only my black jeans prevent me from perfectly executing
the leg part of a number of poses
i jump about
i skip n i thump my boot up n down
finally its all over
drenched in sweat
we slew the bastards
we slew em
more of the same
at the end we go into free form freakout
the guitars wailing in anguish
the drums sound like a tornado
the bass throbs in the lower regions like
a sea monster
its all over
they love us
we love them
ladeez anda gentsa
wherever we are…
as i walk to dressing room
i become aware of being drenched in sweat
and my ears ringing like sirens
how drunk n blurry i am
we joke around after the gig
some small things are mentioned
praises n blame
suggestions are made
jokes are cracked
after about 15 minutes
jan is shown back into the dressing room
oh shteeve what can i say
didja like it then i say
oh shteeve when you played blah blah i cried
ok then cant ask for more than that
jan goes off a satisfied customer
i hang around n hang around
waiting n waiting till we’re ready to leave
eventually by now stoned n drunk on absinthe
i have sunken into a trance
its not that everythings so great in the trance
its not an ecstactic trance
but its this deeply numb n unfeeling trance
a quiet restful respite
from the hounding voices of my own mind
the questions have stopped
no ones trying to rationalise it all
no one trying to write a song or a blog
no one with recriminations n regrets
just kilbey at the bottom of his mind pool
a warm black pool
oh you can imagine fiendss
i know you can
how delicious it is in the the deep black pool of my mind
so deep no one can ever reach me
im herded like a lamb to the car
someone asks me to sign some cds
i watch from the bottom of my pool
as kilbey scribbles something
kilbey so wants to let this man know he appreciates them
but realises that its easier to let it go in the end
they must know in their heart of hearts he does
kilbey smiles at them at any rate
his big yellow teeth n crows feet smile
that fair dinkum im a good bloke smile
he only just learnt not so long ago
its enuff
everyone goes home happy
the car journey is a lovely lovely blur
some music softly plays
a conversation
then the hotel
someone says
here steve
room 1313
on the 13th floor
theres the elevator on the left
the hotel desk clerk calls out in his funny accent
no sir the other left…..
i get into my room
its got internet
wi fi
my little white lappy fires up
my ipod plays i dormienti by eno
i gotta great idea for a new blogge…..

33 Responses to “under n in the wings”

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