The Counterforce No. 62

Steve Kilbey, Kyle Seibel, Emily Costa, Brian Alan Ellis

I had Steve Kilbey on The Counterforce podcast two weeks ago and it was a great conversation. We talked about his career, his many projects (including the latest record The Road To Tibooburra), and what he wants out of music. Give a listen to the whole episode here.

I came to The Church late. Of course I was aware of Starfish and Under The Milky Way but nothing else until one day my friend Ashley posted Maya on Facebook. Things always come to you when you need them to, and this gorgeous song really spoke to me, something about its unhurried emotion drawing me in. Plus of course it’s always exciting to find a band with a huge back catalogue to get into, less common as one gets older. And Maya would resonate down the years with me. I was doing The Artist’s Way at the time and on my ‘artist date’ that week I put Forget Yourself on the car stereo and drove up to Mystic Disc where I had seen my first real life mohawk when I was 13. And on a later drive the song would be even more meaningful. I had tried to move back to LA in February of 2020 but before I could find a place to live the world was diving further and further into chaos every day. With a lockdown looming and knowing I couldn’t afford to stay at my Air BnB much longer, I checked where I could get to in a day without coming into contact with other people. Idaho only had three COVID cases at the time, so Twin Falls it was. I once again loaded up all my belongings into my car, something I had just done a few short weeks ago on the other side of the country, other side of the continent, and set sail. Music, as it always does, keeping the wolves at bay. Somewhere in darkest Nevada, I pulled off to use the facilities – I’ll never forget the Used Syringe Bin in that casino restroom – and checked Instagram. Steve Kilbey had just gone live for an acoustic session from his living room. He asked for requests so I typed in Maya and set off once again. The barren alien skyline adding much eeriness to an already overwhelming sense of dread. But my god, hearing those songs pulled me through. With Vegas glowing on the horizon, familiar chords trickled out of my phone. And a sample of my request. Steve apologizing that he was trying to remember how Maya went, then moved on. But it was enough. The power of music was as strong as it ever was on that drive. A golden radiance resonating with my soul, keeping its vital parts aglow as both I and the world at large hurtled on into this new terrifying night.

This live session was also the first time I heard Josephine, which would become my favourite song of 2020.

A couple years after discovering Maya, I would see The Church for the first time at The Sinclair in Cambridge, MA and discover Steve had his own Tarot deck out, another of my burgeoning interests at the time. Soon I interviewed him about this for Red Bull Music Academy. Then spoke to him again for a short piece for Under The Radar when Further/Deeper came out

For A Moment We’re Strangers and The Unguarded Moment are rightfully the standouts on the first album, Of Skins And Heart, but I’ve always loved Fighter Pilot…Korean War just as much as those two. That killer post-punk verse, reminding me a bit of early Iron Maiden too, and then that glorious chorus

Speaking of The Unguarded Moment, I saw the band at The Fonda Theatre in LA in 2017 and it was a very wonderful moment when his daughters Miranda & Elektra joined him onstage for a rendition of this (“We were very drunk,” they would tell me when I interviewed them the following year about their own ace musical project, Say Lou Lou).

Outside The Church, Steve has a ton of other projects too. His Bandcamp page has 44 solo & collab releases to delve into. Changeling Child from 2012’s Garage Sutra has always been a favourite. And Traitor Signals from 2018’s Sydney Rococco, co-written with Greg Dulli, is just gorgeous. Been on my stereo a lot the past few weeks

But my all-time favourite Kilbey tune is The Church’s Already Yesterday. I love everything about this - the lyrics, the pure pop melodies, the dreamy places it takes me, especially when Ten Mile Beach and Avalon change to Violet Town and Babylon

Moving on to books, I had a most excellent conversation with Kyle Seibel on last week’s episode of the podcast. Talking writing, performing, perseverance, and his killer new story collection, Hey You Assholes

The one thing that’s a bummer about this small press/alt lit scene I now find myself, well perhaps not in, but at least on the outskirts of, is that like the indie rock and indie pop worlds I was a part of before, I keep wanting to shout THESE PEOPLE ARE SO FREAKING TALENTED!! WHY AREN’T THEY FAMOUS?! I mentioned these three books last time but now that I’ve finished them, I heartily recommend them all the more

Hey You Assholes, well, I mean that title alone. But, as we touch on in the podcast, it’s funny, very funny in fact, but I wouldn’t say it’s comedy. A lot of the best stuff in here comes from the more serious empathy Kyle gives his characters. The stories are wonderful depictions of lives that most of the time are not going well and although these folks might not be trying their best, they’re certainly trying something, and just the act of trying to get through provides a little everyday magic for them to keep going. In Listening To Dinosaurs this magic takes a whimsical turn but by no means loses any heart. Which is probably the best way to describe these stories, as having heart, a connection to what beats inside us even if we’re not sure why or what it means or if it’s really what we want. A Thin Layer Of Frost On Old Decorations floored me by how romantic it is, despite the absence of any of that sort of language, told in real talk with no pretensions. As seen most prominently in the case of Mr. Bananaman, Kyle has a way of relating complex layers in the most effective way possible. He lays out the stuff lurking beneath the surface which makes the gut punches of it all all the more hard-hitting. And oh man, those last few lines of Master Guns, I wish I had written that.

Tension is all over Emily Costa’s Girl On Girl. I think there was just once in all the stories where it seemed it might resolve, and then just didn’t, and of course letting it linger makes for more impact. That comes from the words themselves too. I often paused to admire the precision of a description, pleasingly phrased to boot. And in a few instances, Gavlik in particular, the very way through which the stories are told relate another story entirely. Many of these pieces stayed with me long after I had finished them, which is what you want from a book. I pointed out the very funny Renee Ruins The Only Decent Bagel Place In Town before, though it was two of the last stories that left the biggest impression on me. The otherworldly - yet very much rooted in a version of our own so recently passed - vibe of Dead Mall is just wonderful. And then there’s the final story, Bedroom, 1998-2001, a non-stop accumulation of heartbreaks - major, minor, and many in between - told with enough detachment to make them flow beautifully across the page.

And Brian Alan Ellis’ The Errors Tour. Man oh man. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed harder at a book. Like constantly having to put it down because I was overcome by mirth. And one that spoke directly to my KISS/Whitney Houston/Carly Rae Jepsen-loving finding-hilarity-in-misfortune self. I started rationing out how much I would read at a time because I wanted to savour this. Though as soon as I was done, my sister asked me what I wanted for my birthday (Thursday, if you’re asking) and I sent her links to Brian’s other books. No lines wasted, truths laid out in all their uncomfortableness, puns galore, and confirmation of the belief that life would be so sad if it wasn’t also so unbelievably funny

I wanna start playing shows again, acoustic sets I guess for now as it’s just me. The other night I started thinking about what a set would be. It was cool going through the old songs, some I haven’t thought about in years. One that really stood out was Written In The Stars, half of the Aug Stone & The Love Conspiracy single. The Love Conspiracy was to be my soul project, the band name bequeathed to me by Keith Top Of The Pops one night at The Buffalo Bar (RIP). I’ve always loved the lyrics to this one, each verse dealing with a different type of fortune telling, and romantic in a 60s pop song kind of way. I had written the first two verses in Massachusetts when I was living there and was having trouble with the third but as soon as I got off the plane in London for my 40^th birthday trip, before I even got out of Heathrow I had finished the song. I messaged Kate and went to her flat to try it out with her on piano along with Don’t Put A Time On Love and they were sounding so good we decided we should go into the studio. Some quick text exchanges, a drummer I’d never met before but who played with Ladytron, and we were in Simon’s Studio Klank the following week. It was all very punk rock, just make it happen however you can. How I often feel I’m at my best. Desperate Journalist’s Jo Bevan giving a killer soulful co-vocal too, which I think she just improvised in the studio.

If it were written in the stars, o baby, All that could be ours

Could I take you by the hand, o lady, And bring you just that far?

But I know you don’t believe, It’s just a sign of your sign

It’ll take all my wishin’ to make you mine

Why you gotta paint Venus so blue, when I’m so over the Moon for you, o baby?

Takin’ clues from the cards, o lady, I’ll bring you diamonds to win your heart

Cut ‘em thin to win, o baby, Let this be my lucky draw

You could be my Queen, And we’d be suited so fine

Let the hand you hold please be mine

We’ll break the bank at this game of Love, Just like it says in the stars above, o baby

Let me read your palm, o lady, And show your love line’s mine

And I’ll take you in my arms, o baby, Embrace a fate so fine

You could rest your head on my shoulder anytime, And gaze upon that bright night sky

Sugar, the stars are givin’ a shove, So c’mon girl, let’s fall in love

And though I doubt I’ll play it live, I’m glad New Val still holds up. I often think I should go back and redo the vocals on all these old songs now that I can sing better, but who has that kind of time