there is little these days that pulls me away from libetaria, the glamour of sydney no longer allures me, the friends i have are far and few between and if it wasn't for the pull of a few bookshops i wouldn't really bother. oh yeah, then there's steve kilbey and the church, one of the few musicians that nourish my spirit, feed my mind and keep me going. so saturday afternoon i awoke in the late afternoon and realised i should haul my body into sydney to see steve playing a gig with one of my other musical heroes mr. positive vibrations, robyn hitchcock, yeah two great legends on stage together.
i'd managed to avoid knowing what the evening would bring, i wanted the whole experience to be new and surprising. 
i move my body through it's rituals and notice a great lethargy, my bones ache from winters penetration, my head throbs from some complex work issue, i literally wake up exhausted. for the first time ever i don't feel the enthusiasm i have always felt before a night out seeing music, just a weariness and finality, as though i'm finished and should just lay down and close my eyes.
it takes immense effort to shake away this feeling, i jump in the shower and blast myself with hot scalding water, i scrum my teeth with islamic toothpaste (the best toothpaste on earth) i take my proton pill and drink some juice. 
on the train i fall back into a heavy sleep, dreaming of faces, places and watch time loops play out behind my eye. i think my own snoring wakes me up.
the carriage is packed, every few seconds someone wants to swap or change seats, forcing me to shuffle, a child screams and shrieks, girls talk far to loudly disclosing vast details about their sex lives to anyone tuning in, two young backpackers speak in an unfamiliar european language, swiss perhaps with its hybrid german, italian, french and romanish, they smile at me, picking up my curiosity but keeping it under their hats, nice smile i think as i doze of again.
when my eyes open i am travelling deep into the city, through the inner west heading to newtown and onto central station, heading closer to my destination. 
outside on the surface the darkness has arrived, the city heaves and throbs under darkening skies as i wander down crowded streets, stopping into 'galaxy' to make an enquiry and into 'kinokuniya' to buy a warren ellis's 'gun machine' i have an hour to kill so i peruse the massive japanese bookshop, last of it's kind, eyes scanning the endless rows.
at the metro i briefly see steve, he looks busy but stops to give me a hug, i see kate and we head inside like excited children, take our seats right down the front.
two men walk on stage, they introduce themselves, brendon gallagher i know from jimmy little, the other guy i don't know at all. 
he potters about the stage holding a microphone and then starts singing, wow, what an incredible voice, this guy can not only sing, he's using his voice as an instrument, it's sweet and clear in pitch and resonance, he paces around in his shabby suit muttering to the audience like an angry younger version of a rolf harris that took lsd and magic mushrooms, a sort of cooler volatile eccentric rolf who never quite made the fame and fortune of analogue rolf but has the most unique vocal range i've heard in many years. he sings a song called 'quasimodo's dream' and thus is revealed as a reel, mr. dave mason.
then steve wanders on stage, casually strides through his set and plays us a new church song which sounds amazing and delivers the goods in a selection of old favourites ranging from t-rex covers to 'almost with you' he plays one of my fave steve kilbey songs, 'keeper' and it's perfect, voice carries itself in that languid wave as he engages with the audience in his usual carefree elegant style and making us laugh with his precise wit and banter, yes i would be happy to just see steve do a stand up routine, he's brilliant at making an onstage catastrophe into something self depreciating and hilarious. one of his first comments to the audience was about being in the room backstage with robyn and dave, two of the most eccentric people making steve feel quite normal. one can only imagine.
when robyn hitchcock comes on and starts playing we are in a different universe, insects and ocelots, robyn's obsessions are uniquely english, even when he sings about america it's through the eyes of an english man, the last of our true psychedelic gentlemen, offering us an intimate spellbinding slice of his catalogue, some rambles that sound like dylan thomas on lsd, i guess there's a little bit of syd barrett in everyone and robyn got a larger dose than most, what a marvellous privilege to see steve and robyn play some songs together, a syd cover 'gigolo aunt' and 'under the milky way' and finally a beautiful version of the velvets 'heroin.'
it's about 3am when i finally get home and i feel pretty good, music healed my blues, an evening of insects and stars.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7p6BXoJa9Aw