‘Ode To The Dudes’ | Billie Reid


“On a planet run by robotizer clockwork ***** troglodytes, being a Heartbeat Human has become illegal” | ‘Ode To The Dudes (That Own Their Own Nukes)’


Humans run on heartbeats/pulses that vary with mood, activity, the weather etc, whereas metronomes (including time signals, watches/clocks, frames-per-second visual input etc), “entrance” people and are the very basis of mesmerism/hypnotism, especially useful for keeping peasants toiling not rebelling, the term “robot” for example is derived from eastern European “robotnik”, an old term for a peasant or serf ….. Sláinte!Billie.


* Billie Reid’s ‘Ode To The Dudes’ music video shows some very confronting footage. Not only are we seeing the moment Saddam Hussein is hung, the actual moment itself, but we are seeing Mussolini and his mistress Clara Petacci hanging from meat hooks and then lying dead in their grave. (Warning!! Graphic Footage).

Billie felt the phrase “la petite mort” epitomised the moment. The very image of Mussolini’s mistress lying dead in her grave, in the context of the song, is a tragically sad sight …. “la petite mort” …. “the small death”.


La petite mort (Art and Popular Culture): Thomas Hardy: The phrase “la petite mort” … “the small death” does not always apply to sexual experiences. It can also be used when some undesired thing has happened to a person and has affected them so much that “a part of them dies inside”. A literary example of this is found in Thomas Hardy’s ‘Tess of the D’Urbervilles’ when he uses the phrase to describe how Tess feels after she comes across a particularly gruesome omen and meeting with her own rapist. “She felt the petite mort at this unexpectedly gruesome information, and left the solitary man behind her”.


Billie’s response to Thomas Hardy’s analysis ….

No, that’s the mistaken belief that women enjoy being brutalized and raped, and deliberate, to that end of “justifying” troglodyte attitudes towards woman, “misinterpretation” of the Gallic phrase, which is pleasure related.


La petite mort (The Urban Dictionary): The little death is translation from the French “la petite mort”, a popular reference for a sexual orgasm. The term has been broadly expanded to include specific instances of blacking out after orgasm and other supposed spiritual releases that come with orgasm.


The Death of Mussolini and Clara Petacci (Wikipedia): Mussolini and his mistress Clara Petacci were stopped by communist partisans Valerio on April 27 1945, near the village of Dongo (Lake Como), as they headed for Switzerland to board a plane to escape to Spain. The next day they were both shot. According to the official version of events, the shootings were conducted by Colonnello Valerio, whose real name was Walter Audisio. Audisio was the communist partisan commander who was reportedly given the order to kill Mussolini by the National Liberation Committee. When Audisio entered the room where Mussolini and the other fascists were being held, he reportedly announced, “I have come to rescue you! Do you have any weapons?” He then had them loaded into transports and driven a short distance. Audisio ordered, “Get down”; Petacci hugged Mussolini and refused to move away from him when they were taken to an empty space. Shots were fired and Petacci fell down. Just then Mussolini opened his jacket and screamed, “Shoot me in the chest!” Audisio complied and shot him in the chest. Mussolini fell but did not die and was breathing heavily. Audisio went near and he fired one more bullet in his chest. The other members of Mussolini’s entourage were also shot by firing squad later that same day towards nightfall. On 29 April 1945, their bodies were loaded into a van and trucked south to Milan. They were dumped on the ground in the old Piazzale Loreto. Their bodies were kicked, and spat upon by civilians, and were hung upside down on meat hooks from the roof of an Esso gas station.


“Tombstones and a cheating heart … a dark reading on a timeless theme” | Demon Street | Billie Reid

Modern technology gives us a chance to explore Billie Reid’s “alt” version of ‘Demon Street’. Sneering ‘Clash’ inspired chords, college-art backing, and snarling lyrics that bite. Tombstones and a cheating heart … “I ain’t got no time for lies” … this isn’t trendy art but a dark reading on a timeless theme. There’s darkness and a sense of desperation that pulls you in. ‘Demon Street’, don’t go there, but if you do, I wish you luck because this song has no room for sensitive types. It’s a bitter tirade lamenting loss, yet there’s no sense of introspection or poignant reflection from the safety of distance. Self pity isn’t in Billie’s emotional vocabulary. ‘Demon Street’ is hard edged, razor-sharp, and word perfect. Perhaps only those who have been hurt will connect.


Demon Street | “… a bitter brew of betrayal, torment and regret, whipped up into a fiery song of defiance”

‘Demon Street’ captures Australian axeman Phil Bradley at his fiery best, locked in a brutal Strummer-esque guitar-attack with the track’s stomping percussion, whilst Reid relays a tale of love and loss with the bile and poetic fervour of a punk troubadour. He presents the listener with the fiery sound of defiance .… “I’m not about to waste my life on someone else’s whim”  …. mixing up a bitter brew of betrayal, torment and regret, whipped up into song form. Anger, he reminds us, is an energy after all. When your world falls down, it’s better to feel something rather than nothing at all.

‘Demon Street’ is sure to provide an ideal swig of Dutch courage for anyone undergoing a painful, messy breakup. Why mope around when you could, like Billie Reid, count your losses and continue to kick ass! Liam Allen.


“Poet, songwriter, Billie Reid eschews the road of rock’n’roll excess and fake outrage”

Some people sell out, they get worn down or just become plain desperate for a payoff or hunger fame, but for others their music and words are non-negotiable. They never do the record company thing and can’t sway from their chosen path, always true to their roots it’s in the DNA of their lyrics and tunes. That’s Billie Reid. Perhaps he knew he would never fit in. Honest and unpretentious with an almost indifferent disregard to what was fashionable and in the charts. He couldn’t and wouldn’t play the music biz game.

But Billie isn’t desperate for fame, he won’t play that game. Reclusive and flying under the radar he eschews the road of rock’n’roll excess and fake outrage, and in his own way his game plan has made him the underdog. It’s a dangerous fickle game that can lead to nowhere, but with this territory comes credibility and I guess this is priceless, and Billie has it by the bucket load.

His songs are here. Give them time and they will slowly seep into your life. All that matters is the moment and the emotion. Simple words, honest musicianship.


“… put more simply, Billie Reid is a poet and he **** **** knows it!”

“… this street walkin’ cheetah, with a heart full of napalm, has a lot to say about love, loss, and the state of the world. Put more simply, Billie Reid is a poet and he **** **** knows it!”

… the unfurling lyrical attack of Reid as he aims straight for the jugular, singing “they won’t let us live on the beaches, they won’t let us live in the trees, the bastards just lock us in stables, and sell one another the keys”. The lyrics appear to be born out of a particular brand of anti-capitalistic fervour aroused by the Occupy protests, with a call for an alternative beyond the current dire political outlook of partisan politics and limiting left/right perspectives.

Reid’s uncompromising spirit shines through the course of this album. This is a man whose footsteps aim to re-find the path set down by the luminaries of the independent music scene. While the machine-gun delivery of his words recalls the lyrical fire and brimstone of Bob Dylan, as well as the acerbic energy of Johnny Cash, the quick-fire musical vignettes that fill this LP bring to mind punk stalwarts the Wire. Resultantly, Billie Reid’s music is a volatile hybrid, combining the purebred folk compulsions of bluegrass and rockabilly, infused with Reid’s own punk-influenced approach to songwriting. This street walkin’ cheetah, with a heart full of napalm, has a lot to say about love, loss, and the state of the world. Put more simply, Billie Reid is a poet and he **** **** knows it!


* Nikola Tesla had a knack of being able to draw printed circuitry in his mind that worked, my forte is being able to totally rehabilitate this entire Planet, every last detail in my mind, all perfectly workable, TRULY Green, revivifying the deserts of the Planet as oasis after oasis producing more food than ten times the current population could use, more water than 100 times the current population could use, non-polluting power production, removal of current pollution and constructive recycling thereof, a Planet where your kids won’t be required to live in rabbit hutches. Billie Reid.


Billie Reid | ‘self, muso, poet, regenerationist extrordinaire, polymathic re-planetarizationist’

i began wandering around Australia, mostly on foot working farms, building sites, gold claims etc, from the south west through the gold fields and northern gold fields, out to the Kimberleys for walks through boab “forests”, into the northern territory (probably my favourite part of any good walk, that 1st glimpse each time of the rocks and “cliffs” before Victoria River as you 1st walk in from west oz) because you know Katherine ain’t “far”, all the while checking out the different facets of the Natural eco-system, how it’s changed since my last walk there in a different season etc, checking out the man-made catchments and dams stretching out around northern wa, etc, etc, et ***, cetera, my goal, to put all of this knowledge, hard won, into developing a plan to put PEOPLES in the “driving seat” of Australia again, which i proceeded to do, and to give y’all these perfectly workable ideas, designed to benefit y’all and your Kids and their Kids ad infinitum … njoi!billie


Billie Reid | Single Tachyon Extrapolation of Existence | Ode To The Dudes | Youtube


“I’ve always liked Einstein’s theories, they were quite valid, they lead to my own” Billie Reid

my theory is, is that, if you’ve got an instantaneous particle, IT CAN INTERSECT WITH ITSELF, BECAUSE TIME AND SPACE MEAN NOTHING TO IT. Basically, wherever it intersects with itself, it will slow down and ricochet … sooner or later, with enough bumping into itself, you will get something that’s like a “TACHYON SOUP”, WHICH IS THE LIGHTSPEED AND BELOW UNIVERSE, WHERE IT’S TRAVELLING BELOW LIGHTSPEED, where it’s at the same place, next to itself in time, forward or backward in time whatever time line IT WILL GIVE THE APPEARANCE OF CONTINUITY and, where it’s in the same TIME but in different PLACES next to itself, IT WILL GIVE THE ILLUSION OF MASS. And, basically, say it hits its own “SOUP”, once it’s got to that point, and it’s still intersecting with itself, but it’s intersecting with a LARGER MASS of itself, now a “SOUP” of itself … it’s already at below lightspeed, IT’S GOING TO INSTANTLY LOSE VELOCITY, from instantaneous to below lightspeed, AND THE SPILL IS GOING TO BE LIGHT, right, LIKE A SONIC BOOM IN REVERSE, but faster speed. Like shooting sonics into a bowl of water or something. Like a SPLASH … LIKE A RAINBOW BRIDGE! There’s a lot more to it than that but it’s quite simple … netime!billie

* Footnote: “tachyon”, 4want’v betr word, i.e, instantaneous particle/wave “pixel/bit/packet” … no mass, no volume, “just” infinite velocity.


“the subconscious mind of Eternity” | “… this may be metaphorically considered as the consciousness of creation, the mind” | Billie Reid

“…. this is the lightspeed and below universe of our physical senses, the single-particle-theory tachyon soup created as the single tachyon intersects with itself in different places at the same time, and the same place at different times; this may be metaphorically considered as the consciousness of creation, the mind ….

Just as the cosmos in its physical sense is a totally inter-related manifestation of its component attributes of gravitational and electromagnetic coincidence, so the events/consciousness’s within that cosmos may be seen to be dependent on/connected to everything else that occurs within that same instant (i.e, synchronicity). Accepting this, and being that we can have no real concept of (or existence in) an instantaneous universe, we may extrapolate that for all our intents and purposes a combined continuity of time and space is a prerequisite of our conscious awareness of the reality that we appear to occupy and that therefore, all events throughout time and space are influenced by and influencing all other events within that continuum in a coherent and instantaneous manner regardless of temporal and/or spatial remoteness. This is the lightspeed and below universe of our physical senses, the single-particle-theory tachyon soup created as the single “tachyon” (4want’v betr word, i.e, instantaneous particle/wave “pixel/bit/packet” … no mass, no volume, “just” infinite velocity) intersects with itself in different places at the same time, and the same place at different times; this may be metaphorically considered as the consciousness of creation, the mind. The faster than light realm of the uninterrupted tachyon may be thought of as the subconscious mind of Eternity (as above, so below etc). We have the potential (in our role as an interface between rational/instinctive/emotional consciousness, between physical/spiritual, matter and energy) to challenge the apparent boundaries of our existence, to examine the walls of our cell for loose stones, to grab a can of spray paint and try to tag the invisible as it moves amongst us. Some try…. this is their Lounge … Welcome to the Dawn … “The game is afoot” … Eternity Beware, Oblivion is at hand. LOL.