cortez the killer

cover versions. under the cover versions, inversions, reversions and then there's this version.

i can't imagine a more perfect song for the church to take on, it's an act of love, you can hear it in the playing, the voice, those guitars all chiming in their intricate feedback sculptures, the way they capture all that reverb, spillage, sonic stuff, but it is the the song that makes it perfect, it's in essence a church song covered by neil young recovered by the church. 

sometimes my mind carries me over into the weird worlds, pre-civilization, alien landscapes, dmt cities, mescal deserts, machine elf kingdoms. my imagination is a space time machine, in some other world i'm known as dr. when and i have a sexy assistant who also loves the church as much as i and we smoke organic weed and crank up the music as we find new adventures and exotic locations. we laugh and make love and in-between, read exotic poetry.

south american history, international history, global history, interplanetary history, galactic history it's the same old story on every planet. (except arteries seven where we just kick back in a sexy cloud of magick pollen and experience dreamtime bliss) one tribe rises while another falls. conquest and conquistador, brutality in the name of progress. empires, they come and go and the bones of the dead are ground down to dust, a precarious foundation stone on which to build a tower or two, cities and empires behold a galactic federation. 

all that latent karma. never build an apartment block on indian burial ground lest your children be trapped in a tv. 

killer, what a killer.

  

priest = aura

while this could be a straight forward narrative lifted from the pages of homer's distant mystical cousin kilbey, there's something ambiguous and allegorical about the words.
i speculate.
the band drained and spent of energy in america, touring and meeting the demands of record companies, (the war) the very anathema to the creative process. they have already won a battle with the commercial success of milky way and starfish, but they have responsibilities and demands, contracts and sales, (the noise and stink) i imagine an endless parade of suits pr men and record company executives breathing down their neck. 
the musicians (soldiers) have travelled from australia to the usa, specifically los angeles, where the cultural disconnect couldn't be any greater. values are spun upon their heads, money is god, avarice and greed reign supreme, superficiality and insincerity are the currency and steve may have find the environment and the people that sat around him alien and repulsive in nature. i wasn't there, so i'm just using my weird intuition. there's something that parallels 'fear and loathing' although while hunter used speed, mescal, lsd and various chemicals to perceive the ugly side of the american dream steve was on the gear. perceptions and information shifts and slides to a channel more somber. whatever was happening it was a journey into a very human darkness and a glorious return to these sydney shores with this warning or message. 
there's various lyrics that give the game away, however steve has always been honest about his distain for those that worship baal, for the desert tribe that in all probability took his art and turned it into commodity and product in their current incarnation in america, i don't blame him, it is his own experience, you can't separate an artist from their art, i understand completely if this was the case, on the other hand maybe it's just a song about a fantasy voyage scribbled down on a napkin in a studio somewhere, as i said, speculation only.
either way one cannot take away its epic musical beauty and brilliant songwriting. 

it's a novel not a song, a literary art form of immense proportions just like moby dick is to some people, priest = aura is to me. i can't imagine a better song than this, it has mystery, beauty, suffering and the unreachable unknowable essence. but it also speaks volumes for its creator who has kept hold of his integrity for decades against the tide, against the forces of consumerism and sell out, he remained true to his own processes and that in this day and age, this one single commodity is utterly priceless.
whatever you think of my speculations into the lyric, the music is a perfect bed for the word, it's that cinderella moment where the shoe fits perfectly, the atmospherics and construction of this particular song have withstood the test of time and always will. a new mythology, an ancient tale.
and the information. the message from the enemy....the equation of priest equals aura?
one could write volumes on this aspect as well, for all it's esoterica these words are the words on which religions and cults are born, but for me, if something is to be true (a thing of love and beauty) it must contain it's paradox and there is a heavy truth in the message steve delivers. 

heavy truth indeed. i'll always love this song, it has such gravity, the weight of a great novel in the league off dostoevsky, mellville, cervantes and burroughs. 


 
     

DEHYDROGENASE ELUVIUMS AVOUCH

DEHYDROGENASE ELUVIUMS AVOUCH

1354 AD

Erskine I

(1287 - 1372)

deadmans hand

once again. the history of civilisation in a pop song
through the eyes of a tuned in, turned on, druid in a uniform, who can't drop out of the clusterfuck. 'empires got you by the balls,' every foot soldiers lament. 

this song leaves me breathless, it's a stomping rock song with penultimate musicianship and craft that is driven by steve's words and phrasing. let it speak for itself in this live recording. 

incidentally 'deadmans hand' refers to the two black aces and two black 8's wild bill hickok played when he was shot dead in a poker game. since then the hand has been revered by players who know their lore.

 

'night friends' from after everything now this

sometimes, just a single element has enough power to change everything, such can be said for david lane's contribution to the song night friends. haunting and simply perfectly in tune with its companion elements that fluid piano trickles along in the shadows, the after midnight atmosphere, like some old blues when the bar is empty and the floors are being mopped but no one is sitting on the piano stool save some old melancholy ghost.
it's from one of my fave church albums, 'after everything now this' where i feel steve's lyrics are now on equal terms with the greatest of writers. if he was good before this album he became greater for it. it's not a quantifiable thing, there's no real boundary but there's some kind of definitive point where a writer earns the right, hard work, blood sweat and tears conjured up in the sound of suffering. you can hear it in steves voice, in the music but it lies deep in the words. what is that, so effortlessly dripping from his lips, like breathing, emotion, sadness, melancholy, loss? 
like the magic realism of the south american writers night friends is at once ambiguous as it is meaningful, the listener is the observer in the quantum world of the church. 
this is a great exercise in poetic imagery, one can ponder the nature of these night friends endlessly and still know very little other than what steve chooses reveal. we know they are behind the mirror, waiting for a moment, we know they displace time. towards the ending the lyric ponders the power of hate and concludes only love can counter it.
let's face it, i have no idea what it really means only how i feel when i listen to it. i've looked in that mirror.  

so that love may find us -

love will find us when we find love

listen.
cosmic in scope, it's not music but a philosophical muse. it's beyond normal parameters of rock and roll, a quest for meaning perhaps. wherever this stuff comes from it's asking the right questions.
it may well be clutching at straws hoping for elusive answers but the fact it's stretching out in the first place, one single note in an ocean of noise, and when you hear it some kind of elemental explosion occurs in the brain chemistry or spiritual spark plug. 
i hear the history of western philosophy in this song.  

Paradox

You are a paradox to me, a senseless maze

I run around, I'm looking for you all of my days...

I cannot bear to share you, we can't be alone...

Opiates suck. Yet there is a purpose to everything and if you can't see it, you better find one fast--because even the shit that has no purpose.... the tragedies of ALL that should happen but doesn't... and the senselessness of ALL that that should never happen occurring everywhere.... is really happening––and for those who have been through the worst of it, they know there's always someone else––who has experienced more tragedy, more suffering, more loss––and the only purpose out there for them is to endure––to become a subterfuge––knowing that just to walk through this life takes a 100000000x more courage, more knowledge and therefore more suffering than you or I, hopefully, will ever need know.

Run out it's rough, too much is enough

And that's what it was

I cannot bear to share you, we can't be alone 

Suffering sucks. But we all suffer, but we don't all suffer the same. Karma, Dharma, Past-lives, Veaganism, Hedonism, Purgatory, Theosophy, Science and Seances are all bullshit. You either feel it or you don't, right? You either care or you don't. And if you care and you don't care too fucking much, then what's the point, right? Buddha, Krishna, Vishnu, Enkidu, Jesus Fuking Christ are all made-up–and-just as real as Santa Clause, right? How many times in the course of a single day in your garden variety dilemma, do you, does one, does anyone any of us actually know the "right thing to do?" So how then in the field of any perceived let alone any real or life or death choice, Goddess forbid, are we to know what the fuck to do?

You make me drift up and float, 

The more that I see you, the more that I miss you 

and fall like a stone 

Trust sucks. And that's because it's the only thing we got and we can trust no one. Know why? Because eventually we ALL disappoint one another––AND this is NOT some nihilistic, mumbo-jumbo, view-pointed, prophecy here I'm trying to project onto ya'll or any bullshit like that; BUT say we give the intelligent design folks a break here for 2 fukn seconds and suppose for a moment there were a single solitary creator being––AND this would be ONLY if such a thing through its own divine fucking inspiration both sacred and profane bestowed upon us some kind of understanding of its omnipotent, omnipresent or omniscient ways––AND wouldn't that be the cost of ALL existence? 

NO? 

Go ahead then and spend three-extra fucking minutes listening to someone you can't stand while you're strung-out––AND you tell me if you're NOT ready to push the button raining Arma-goddamn-motherfuckin-geddon down upon every last one of us? Thankfully, we've ALL got the chance to step out of this 2-D movie with no predictable happy/tear-jerker ending anytime we want. AND that's the only reason why we don't sometimes. AND don't you know it.

You are a paradox to me, a contradiction

You're a predicament for me, and a prediction

I've got a nickname for you, I call you... 

I AM a Lennonite just as much as I am Rimbaudian; HELL is certainly below us, and above us only sky**

Skybee** 2NGT Phoenix TheeB* @2TMR NGHTi Ibee** & WiilbE* (look for where those lights should be... look in that Phoenix 2night... now of that beast we're both set free... (& of the gOG, Ibee** know that beast) how it darkend... see thee Skybee** there before... no stars a black space between the stars . pulled away, no beast now... (INuit carvings) no beast now Skybee** (& of the AgOG, weeBEE* know that beast) 444 Ibee** & thee Skybee** AB OV 8*...

love philtre by the church from further deeper

'our minds are made up'

musically i don't know what's going on, all instruments blend into something with the complexity they say makes up a good wine. i'm not a drinker of the wine but i am a thinker of the wave, water or sound, and here is subtle tones filled with a sensual beauty that appears immediately elegantly simple. yet put your finger upon it and it's gone. like that quantum idea. the song is both particle and wave and you can only perceive one state. 

this is the church's new incarnation, and it's difficult to write about because it is very different from what came before. 
one has to adopt a cosmic view here. 
the church without mwp is a new church, everything changes because there is a new element we are unfamiliar with. it's neither bad or good. values like that are pointless. 
as fans we all invested in this band. we all think we are attached to the band and musicians whereas what we really are attached to is the music. this in itself is a good thing, all things must change and value cannot be quantified in terms of before mwp or post. it is what it is. equal but different.

our minds are made up.

in such a simple sentence such a grand idea. this is common in steve's writing, he captures ideas the size of a universe and reduces it down into a few words. i don't know if it's a trick or a skill, it always leaves me in some kind of awe. 

'june' from forget yourself

the floating world, disembodied we pass over the ancient lands into a youth filled body that looks out over the horizon, from towering cliff tops as the deep blue mediterranean breaks upon rocks below. a sailed vessel heads towards shore, the oars synchronised and the sail comes down like an elegant origami in reverse. brown skinned men working under a suspended yellow sun. possibilities bounce across the water in gleaming gifts as you speculate she may be on board carried by hope and sweat and toil and the energy of a peoples need for myth or truth, all are bound by beauty. 
the animal kingdom expects the best, eggs hatch and small beaks open for the first time, the flowers explode into vivid colour and their wondrous scent's drift in the invisible currents. you see the rabbits in fields, they move like erratic particles through the fields, you see the swallows above in some exotic formation, a school of airborne fish in choreographed precision. you hear the buzzing of cicadas, the bees and the crickets an insect orchestration to a fertility rites promise. 
and as it comes, as it crescendos to it's beautiful zenith, through your bones, through your flesh and into your very spirit it passes, for even june must fade out and the vessel heads away from the shoreline, the sail hoisted, the sun now sinking. the flowers wilting, for every arrival heralds departure.

DELIRIOUS

so the day breaks and 
 i'm fated to be seriously 
delirious

 it's not far 
with all my 
...heart

and i can even
 understand a thing or two
what you going to do?

***

if anyone thinks this is easy
 and everyone thinks it's
deliberately done

 these pieces are easy
but try to put them 
 all together
it's impossible
 do you think you
can please me?

***

deflated undersaturated 
 i'm captivated
delirious

 i hope so
with all my
...soul

 and i can almost 
comprehend 
 night from day
what you going to say?

***

if anyone thinks this is easy
 and everyone thinks it's
deliberately done

 these pieces are easy
but try to put them 
 all together
it's impossible
 do you think you
can please me?

***

the pieces are easy
  try to put them together
     try to put them all together

***

and i
 i can almost 
comprehend
 night from
day what you
 gonna say?

***

if anyone thinks this is easy
 and everyone thinks it's
deliberately done

 these pieces are easy
but try to put them 
 all together
it's impossible
 do you think you
can please me?


***

and i
 i can almost 
recognize
 wrong from right
almost
 but not quite

***

your delirious
 it's deliberately done
do you think you 
 can please me?