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The Church’s Steve Kilbey: “Your big hit can be terrible — and Under the Milky Way is actually okay”

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Frontman Steve Kilbey on the band’s new singles tour, his fraught relationship with success, and why he’ll never do a Van Morrison

“I didn’t want to do this,” Steve Kilbey says plainly, when asked about The Church’s upcoming singles tour. It’s not exactly the response you expect when speaking to a musician about their next run of shows. The point of these interviews is, after all, usually to sell tickets. “It was everyone else. But the promoter is a good friend of mine. He just said, ‘Trust me’. So, I did.”

Calling from his home in Coogee, Sydney, Kilbey now resembles the silver-haired uncle of the boy you once knew from The Church. His hair is wispy, his ease with technology slightly slipping. The eyeliner is gone. He doesn’t so much look like a rock star anymore — more like someone’s dad.

At 70, Kilbey remains the sole original member of The Church still in the band. Born in Hertfordshire, England, he moved to Australia at the age of five. A trace of the accent still lingers in his voice.

“The original band wouldn’t be happy that we’re doing this,” he admits, referring to the tour. “But audiences want it. And it seemed like… it could be good, for the fuck of it. So, I’ll enjoy it for what it is. It wasn’t my idea, but I’ll still make it as good as I can.”

Unlike past tours, this one is entirely focused on singles — a shift that clearly appeals to Kilbey.

“When I was a kid, there were only singles. I went to a party once and met this guy who was sixteen and cool. He asked if I liked singles or albums. I said singles. He told me that wasn’t cool. Ever since, I thought singles weren’t cool. But I was wrong. And now none of it matters anyway. There’s no singles or albums anymore — there’s just streaming.”

Kilbey has always had a fraught relationship with success. A natural artist, he leans towards the arcane and esoteric. Commercial popularity was never a given. Did he ever think The Church would still be touring, decades on? Probably not.

“It’s complicated,” he says, when asked how he feels about the band’s legacy. “I feel like I’m deserving of success — but success means the lowest common denominator. I envy a band like Sigur Rós. They make uncompromising music and still succeed. But when you’ve had a hit single, it starts to feel like you’re aiming for the lowest common denominator. That’s hard.”

It goes without saying, the Church’s back catalogue is sprawling. Kilbey alone has over a thousand songs registered with the Australasian Performing Right Association. The band even released a new album last year, Eros Zeta and the Perfumed Guitars. Regardless of this, they remain most famous for one particular track: Under the Milky Way. And Kilbey’s relationship with that song is, like everything else, complicated.

“I’m glad it’s that song,” he says. “Your big hit can be terrible — and it’s actually okay. That song is bigger than me. Bigger than the band.”

Under the Milky Way has appeared in Donnie Darko, a litany of television shows, and countless commercials. For any Australian’s reading this, I can almost guarantee you’ve heard it — even if you’ve never heard of Kilbey. “The song is more famous than I am,” he says. “I can get into a cab, and they won’t know who I am. But if I say, ‘I wrote Under the Milky Way’, they’ll know.”

Like most artists, Kilbey still compares himself to others. Despite his legacy, he often still finds himself walking down paths of ‘what if’.

“I wish I was more like Sigur Rós. Or The Beatles, where every song is a hit. It’s weird having a song that everyone loves. I overthink it too much,” he adds. “Some people just want the singles. Others love the obscure, recent stuff. Some are in the middle. But really…” he says leaning in, “I’d rather just play the last two albums in full.”

Age, too, has brought perspective to Kilbey. He’s watched artists reinvent themselves in pursuit of relevance, often with diminishing returns. He tried that once and it didn’t stick.

“How can you be cool at 70?” he asks. “I saw Van Morrison once. He didn’t want to be there. He had his back turned, didn’t like anything. And I thought, ‘You miserable old sod!’ We’ve paid money, and you’re acting like this?”

That moment stuck with him. It became a warning. A blueprint for what not to become. “No matter where we are, or who we’re playing for, I’m going to try my hardest” he notes. “I’ll be glad for whoever shows up. I don’t believe in turning your back on the audience. I won’t be rude. That’s just not going to happen.”

Kilbey seems to have made peace with the contradictions. The tension between art and commerce, between legacy and reinvention. He knows what he wants now. He knows what he doesn’t.

Perhaps that’s the real secret to longevity in music — not chasing relevance but accepting who you are. For Kilbey, it’s no longer about rewriting the past, or running from Under the Milky Way. It’s about showing up, playing well, and refusing to be a miserable old sod. Not a bad legacy to leave behind I’d say.

The Church are performing in Frankston, Barwon Heads, Melbourne, Canberra, Perth, Wollongong, Sydney, Tweed Heads, Brisbane, Sunshine Coast and Adelaide as part of their The Church: The Singles Tour from November 6. Tickets can be purchased here.

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