Hi. Bigggg day of busking. Lots of time, lots of songs, lots of people, not too many degrees. Needless to say, I'm pooped. However, it was also an awesome day of busking, and I want to write about it right away before I forget!
Despite getting up kind of early (for young urban unemployed Saturday standards), I didn't get to busking until noon. It always takes forever to get ready! I wanted to check out the Farmers' Market, which is always a fabulous place to busk.
Farmer's Markets are great because there are kids. There are people who can afford organic beet hybrids or whatever. People are doing things leisurely. Excellent. The market was awesome. It reminded me of the opening number of Brigadoon, which takes place at the market ("Saaaaalted meat I'm selling there, at the fair, laddie!"). There was lots of meat, as well as fish, some produce, chocolate, apple cider, cheese, bread, etc. One meat stand was called "Well Hung." It wasn't a huge market, and had one narrow walkway which made me nervous for pissing off vendors with my beautiful music. There was an older gentleman wearing a neon yellow vest noting his job as a parking attendant. I approached him, and asked if he knew anything about restrictions for street musicians at the market. He said that there were sometimes performers, but that they had to seek permission from the "market inspector." This elusive man was to be found in an orange vest. If I couldn't find him, I was to peer into the jeep across the street, which belonged to him. I found him right away. It turns out he was a young, bearded man who was super chill. I asked him about busking, and mentioned that I didn't want to, um, "annoy" the vendors (avoided saying "piss off" in case he was super proper). I suggested choosing a spot then asking the vendors if they'd mind, but he said it wouldn't be worth it since they're all "grumpy bastards." So much for keeping my language clean! He didn't have strong opinions about where I played, so I set up at the entrance on one side, with the castle behind me. And not a minute too soon, since a bagpiper walked over, saw me, then went on his merry way. Suckerrr. Lots more that could go in the intro, but better jump right into the less intimidating numbered list:
Saturday, 18 February, 2012, Part 1:
1. Before I even started playing, some children were dancing in front of me. They said such things as "It's your turn to do a dance move!" I handed them Flaca right away, and they passed her around. When it was time for then to leave, an older woman took Flaca and gave her a more sophisticated spin.
2. I played "Blowin' in the Wind." A man said something like, "You're playing 'Blowin in the Wind' and it is!" Ha, I hadn't thought of that.
3. Across from me was a produce stand with two young men working. One of them came over to drop me a tip, and said, "Jolly good!" Love these Britishisms!
4. A man was dragged over by a super happy (you can just tell) black dog. He was checking out everything, including my box. Tiger put dog biscuits in my box in 2010, and dogs still give it a sniff (could just be generally interesting olfactorally). The man I'll tell you about in a minute served a woman some haggis, and the dog just smiled and bolted over there. The woman gave him a chunk; I wouldn't have been able to resist either. What a good dog.
5. Now I will tell you all about George, rather than separating his numerous presences in my notes. He is the old man who sold venison next to me. His stand was called "Seriously Good Venison," and a sign mentioned the awards they had won and various publications that recommend them. He was wearing a meaty apron and a hat bearing the Scottish flag. Right away when I set up, he walked over and said "We never get musicians at this end!" with a smile. I told him, "Well it's my first day, so I don't know any better!" "Before long you'll be at the other end with the rest of them." Hm, I wonder what the appeal is of the other end. I promised I'd stay at that end. Forever. He came over a couple of times to check in, mentioning at one point about how cold I must be. He commented about the variety of my repertoire. As I was packing up, I caught him whistling "Parlez-moi d'Amour." The woman who was helping by then (his wife?), gave us today's title quote and said "You're putting off the lassie, George!" Probably "ye're," actually.
6. Suddenly, it started furiously snowing and hailing. Seriously. It came out of nowhere, just fast snow. Coming down too fast to keep wiping off Lil' Red. It became clear that there was nothing to do but pack up. I made quick work of it, but I still got pretty wet. I felt maternal as I took out my extra sweater and draped it over the box before bungeeing it to the cart. It's probably fine, but it's not a perfectly airtight closure and I don't want my instrument getting wet! The weather's weird here, so I didn't just go home. I wandered the market then, talking to some folks. Everyone was talking about how unexpected the snow was. There was a woman selling The Big Issue, a magazine sold on the streets, who was up for discussing the sudden change in weather. The snow was beautiful, against the castle, though. As quickly as it had started, it stopped. I set up again in the same spot. It had done a little damage though: my gloves were damp. All of me was damp, actually, and slightly cold. I had to stand in a puddle. My set list goes on the ground, where I can see it, so I put it back down water or not. That was not a problem, since I bought it a plastic sheath for exactly that reason. Just tissued it off before packing up again! However, my Sophie's Smokin' Squeezebox sign didn't come out unscathed. Most of it is pretty water resistant, but the black keys of the piano side are just marker, and they ran. There are some streaks of black across the keys. Shit. Once I started up again, I quickly tried to improvise "Singin' in the Rain."
7. Once the sun was back out, I became aware of the fact that I'd love to have a photo of myself busking in front of a massive castle. I asked a stranger with a camera to take one and email it, so we'll see if she does and if it came out.
8. Observation: the majority of the vendors were mega hot! I come from a land where Farmers Market vendors are middle aged lesbians, with the occasional old man thrown in. This was a nice surprise! Even more incentive to get up on Saturdays to go!
9. I ran out of hand warmers and my hands were cold, so I stuck some foot warmers onto my gloves. They didn't work very well.
10. A man came over and said a lot. I couldn't understand a single word. I tried to respond in such a way that was affirmative but not super positive, just in case. At the end of the rant, he said, totally clearly, "I'm probably in your bad book now for saying that!" Damn, I wish I knew what it was!
11. Strange luck today, first with the snow, then this: my left accordion strap let go! I had been looking at it the other day, thinking that it wouldn't last much longer, but today was it! I guess I was playing a little too aggressively, or maybe it was just mad that I've been cramming so many sweaters under it, but it snapped. I realized that I could probably fix it temporarily with a safety pin. I dug through my bag but couldn't find one. Then (sorry this is TMI, Mom!), I remembered that there's usually one on my bra! I awkwardly turned around and yanked my plethora of sweaters down, and after several minutes of maneuvering and stabbing, I got it loose. It worked, and I continued playing! After I packed up I adjusted my hat, and remembered that there had been like four bigger, stronger safety pins in my much-more-accessible hat the entire time. D'oh.
12. About the strap: I obviously need to buy a new one, but I don't want to spend money! I had 1.5 good ideas: I should have other people pay for my new set! I could post a thing online where generous people can contribute a dollar through Paypal to fund my new straps. Then, the .5 of the idea, is to make a contest out of it. Have people pay a dollar to submit a guess of on which date the safety pin gives out. This person would win an awesome prize! Not sure what.
A little before two, when the market was to end, I packed up. I was cold, and the vendors were packing up as well. I was super thrilled to have discovered this secret though, and I'll surely be back most Saturdays (don't call me Shirley!). People were super nice and into it, and I got tips from a wide variety of people.
It was good that I stuck around until the end of the market and that I was cold and hungry, because George offered me some haggis on the house as I was leaving! It was venison haggis, and a little weird compared to the standard sheep haggis I've grown to love, but it was over a pile of neeps and tatties and hit the spot like nothing had hit the spot before. I walked down the market and found an alleyway of sun that was showing between two buildings. I just stood in the middle of the walkway basking (wow, basking and busking in one day!), letting my shoes dry (oh, that's another thing, I wore my new canvas sneakers to try to break them in, and they absorbed all of the snow). This spot happened to be right next to the Chocolate Tree stall. Since the day of sales was dwindling, the man working bellowed that hot chocolate was now going for just a pound. I stayed put, eating my haggis with a bamboo fork, thinking I could get a better price. Sure enough, the hot chocolate was reduced to "free." I dashed over, and the man gave me both a standard cup of regular and a tiny cup of "extra dark." Mmm. Sooo chocolatey. I wolfed down the rest of the haggis, since I only had one hand free for comestibles, and went on my merry way.
My plan was to hunker down in the library for a minute to warm up. I know it's not good for my accordion to change temperatures a lot, but I didn't want to spend money on a cafe break (and didn't need any sort of snack!). Basically I wanted a bathroom and a chair (which can, of course, be done in one fell swoop). Old Town is a little complicated streetwise, and it turned out that I was overconfident in my ability to find the library. I ended up on Southbridge St., which I always have a surprisingly difficult time finding. I took advantage of actually being on it to go to Poundland, a known retailer of hand- and foot-warmers. I pretty much cleaned them out, happy to see that they were stocking the Hot Hands brand.
An amazingly bad song was playing in Poundland. The singer couldn't have been more than 12, and the chorus was "I want to tell you every little thing about me." She provided some examples of such things, including "I love chocolate chips" and "I like hula hoops." Part of the saga took place in math class, where the object of her affection supposedly was seated next to her. Basically, this was the Rebecca Black of Britain. I googled it when I got home, but couldn't find anything. The ads that you hear in Poundland are all for Poundland, so they must have their own radio station. Maybe the singer is the owner's daughter? The lead guitar player sounded like s/he had an adult's level of experience.
Anyway, I still needed to use the bathroom, but all the walking had warmed me up so I didn't really need a break. I decided to duck into the National Museum (free admittance) and use their bathroom. This presented a big challenge: revolving door! Ahhhhh! I forget where it had happened, but I'd learned the hard way previously that revolving doors and boxes on wheels do not mix. I couldn't see another way in, though, so I was super brave and strategically maneuvered myself and my accordion in.
While in the bathroom, I had the most brilliant idea in the history of ideas. First I will use a lot of punctuation to add suspense, then I will tell you the final idea, and then I will tell you the thought process. Ready?
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(Remember that move from chain emails from middle school?)
FLACA'S FENOMENAL FLAMENCO!
First I thought about how I should put a sign up instructing people to grab Flaca and give her a spin. Then I thought about giving her her own sign. THEN I thought about giving her her own entire setup! Little painted box, sign, tips, the works. In theory, this will double my tips, if people are tipping both of us. But she needs a three-word alliterative name. Flaca's Fancy Footwork. Flaca's Flamin' Fox Trot. I would make her little tap shoes and some sort of stand so she can stand up next to her box. Tomorrow I will go to a charity shop and find a little jewelry box and get some paints. I'll make her a sign that looks like mine, except with dancing shoes under the words. I could maybe even make her business cards. Somewhere, I would include instructions for folks to use her.
Great idea part 2: As I thought more about it when I was playing, I remembered the word "phenomenal." It can be spelled with an F! THEN I had the idea of making it Flaca's Fenomenal...wait for it...Flamenco! This could work. Here's why:
a. I know quite a bit about Flamenco music's history, structure, rhythms, and varieties, from my time abroad in Seville. I can clap the rhythms so well that Spaniards would look at each other, do that thing with their mouths that means, "Not bad," and nod.
b. Although Flaca is Mexican, she can pass as a Spaniard. She doesn't have a heavy accent, so some people think she's from Spain. She could be from Salamanca. Flaca from Salamanca.
c. Flamenco dance will be easier than tap dance (my fave) to make Flaca do with minimal puppetry skills. I can make her clap, I can make her do some things with her feet, and I can get one arm in the air. Note: I just paused and tested that. For the record, I can NOT get one arm in the air. Not in such a way that looks like a sexy Flamenco arm. What she can do is clap her symbols in the correct Flamenco rhythms (or Fandango), and her feet can actually stomp pretty well. They'll be great with loud shoes instead of her current Mexican sandals!
More on this to come, for sure.
Break was over, and I had decided to resume playing on the Royal Mile. I know it's been super bad at night, but it was a Saturday, it was no longer snowing, and there were people everywhere. I sought a spot, and ran into Pockets, one of the main ukulele players at the Uke Boogie, busking in front of these big gates that lead to official buildings. It's a good spot. We talked a bit, and this cool girl who played a pink bass in pink pumps last week came by too. The two of them decided to go for a drink, so I took over that spot. That was easy! Stayed there for the fastest three hours of busking ever. That brought me to a total of five hours--what I should be doing all the time. This was good. I was happy.
Saturday, 18 February, 2012, Part 2:
People were generally into it. They acknowledged me, smiled, thanked me, complimented my skirt, everything I like. Lots of folks took pictures and didn't tip, which means you're doing things right! I was riding high from the success of the morning (and I had a belly full of haggis and chocolate), so I had no trouble playing in "passionate mode," which is always good. Usually I "cahn't be bothered," to quote my flatmates. "Passionate Mode" entails adding these attributes to one's playing:
i. Using the entire bellows (and once open pulling the left side down so you have a semi-circle shape like in stereotypical accordion playing, like in "Lady and the Tramp.");
ii. Trembolo whenever possible;
iii. Dramatic changes in dynamics and tempo;
iv. Tapping feet a lot;
v. The important one: emotional facial expressions. Close your eyes. Really feel it in your soul. Few of my youtube videos use Passionate Mode, but La Vie en Rose does.
I'm especially excited to use Passionate Mode on "Eleanor Neary's/The Miller of Drohan," a traditional Irish medley that is very close to my heart, extremely exciting and beautiful, and really tricky. This isn't a super passionate version, but I was playing around today with changing speeds and complexity and everything.
Anyway, carrying on...
1. A hen party came by. You remember those, right? It was a big group, and it was Eleanor Neary's that I quit to play "Here Comes the Bride." This one went over VERY well, compared to last weekend at least. They all noticed, cheered, and sang along. A couple of them came back to tip me, and lots of passersby saw this whole interaction and grinned. I got a surprising adrenaline rush from this (usually only happens with bad things) that sped up my next songs quite a bit!
2. I've been recognized as a rock star! A guy came up and said, "Hey, I saw you play at the Jazz Bar a couple nights ago!" Yes he did! It turns out he's friends with one of my bandmate Tara's flatmates, so he came to the show. He said that he's been listening to the EP online nonstop, and he thinks we're going somewhere! Yeahhh! I guess I need to tell you about the gig. This is going to be a long post! This guy, Nick, is American as well! From Connecticut, no less. Woohoo.
3. A man commented that my music sounds "Continental." I guess that means European rather than British? It's true, since I have a large percentage of Italian songs (and the odd French one). He suggested I come back in August for the festival. Duh!
4. When I was playing Gaga, I noticed a group across the street. It turned out to be Pockets and Jen, plus a couple of others including a magician whom I had seen before. He was wearing a lot of orange. I braced myself for Pockets to claim his spot back (he had implied that he wanted it back again in 30-60 minutes), but that didn't happen. Orange man was holding these two big rope whips. He started using them for something pretty close to me. I stopped playing and shot him an evil glance. He totally got it and yelled over that he wasn't staying forever, but just giving a demo. I felt embarrassed to have given him the look, since I've seen him and I know he's a pro! A pro knows better than to set up right next to someone. I immediately backpedaled and said that it was fine, that I had just stopped to watch! Sure.
5. A bunch of women in strange costumes walked by. I couldn't pick up on a theme: red hot chili pepper, pirate, I forget what else. I was aware that two were suddenly next to me, posing for a picture, clearly drunk. One was wearing a little tank top, kilt, and Tam O'Shanter, with obvious goosebumps. Turns out this was also a hen party.
6. An observation: I've mentioned this before, and I'll mention it again. It always amuses me how much trouble I have talking while playing. Specifically, the phrase I attempt to say the most is "Thank you." I just can't get it to sound normal! It's either really high pitched and monotoned, or it's sliding all over the place; ThaaaAAAaank YouuuUUU!. Usually the emphasis is on "you." I should just pause the music for a second! You can guess how it'll be if I try singing at the same time.
7. A man dropped a pound in, and we heard a clink that signified that another coin had unexpectedly fallen in. We both sort of did a dramatic gasp paired with a surprised face, and looked at each other, like this was the strangest thing that had ever happened. Totally silly. Made me smile.
8. I did something passionate and dramatic and strained some of my left arm. A big crowd was coming so I kept playing but it hurt! Hoped it wasn't a career-ender! Then an accented man asked me if he could film his friend playing my accordion. Sure, why not! I wanted a quick break to stretch, but that didn't mean that Lil' Red needed a break. This big guy put on the accordion, but the straps were super tight and he didn't seem to speak English enough to heed my suggestion of putting both straps over just his left arm. I looked over just in time to see that the safety pin had come undone and was about to stab himself right in the jugular! I leapt over and saved his life. He played a polka, and went on for a bit. Once I had stretched every muscle possible, I grabbed Flaca and gave her a go. He actually played for much longer than I expected, and I tried to hint that I wanted my accordion back. Turns out they're Polish!
9. A man came over and asked if I'm French, since I'm Sophie and I play the accordion. I said no. He asked if I know the French composer Yann Tiersen. Do I ever! I told him the songs I know (four from Amelie, of course), and of course he chose l'Valse d'Amelie, which is the only one I don't regularly play (a bit overdone). As a result, I messed it up. Oh well. It turns out that he is French, and named Julien. He's a bit homesick for France. He's been here since September, and he got a job at a call center. Something about outsourcing and being bilingual. Said that I could maybe get a job there with my Spanish, but I'd need papers, which they could probably help me with. Hmm. We talked quite a bit, and he said some wise things. "The area between Los Angeles and New York is this little thing called America." I guess he lived in LA for a while. He said that he's trying to fiddle around on the piano (easier than pianoing around on the fiddle, I guess). The conversation led to us discussing the possibility of swapping piano lessons for French lessons. I would definitely do that, since I want to learn some French and I want a guinea pig to see if I'm capable of teaching piano. As we were writing down each other's info, he said, "Even if we don't see each other again, don't give up." I don't want to misquote him, so I'll leave the rest out of quotes. He said that it can be so discouraging working in music and the arts since it's thought of as a "lowly" job, but it really is so important. Indeed so. Always nice to hear.
That's all I have in my notes, but I'm probably forgetting things. There was so much foot traffic that I didn't want to stop to write stuff down and risk missing tips! Just a great day busking. I felt really proud and really optimistic. I considered taking another break to warm up then doing a third night set in Grassmarket, but I didn't want to push my luck and break something else and get pneumonia. It's safe to say that nothing I can do can justify missing a Saturday. Early to bed on Fridays for me! Made the kind of hourly rate I make at home. I also did a great job of not spending money the past couple of days, so it's all net!
Oh right, I have to tell you about the Gig! I'll write something in bold to separate it:
Thursday, 16 February 2012: Kaiho Gig!
Have I mentioned my flatmates' awesome band? Well, they have an awesome band called Kaiho. Sas (flatmate) is on lead vocals, and plays ukulele, guitar, tambourine, and charango. Freya (flatmate) is on bass, backup vocals, and is learning trumpet (and 239527384 other instruments). Mel is [awesomely] on drums. Harriet does lead guitar and high harmonies. Katy is on lead trumpet. Tara (newest before me) does keys, violin, guitar, and harmonies. I am now on lead accordion and backup vocals. Their songs are truly awesome. Sas and Freya are incredible songwriters, and the songs have distinct sounds, nice melodies, interesting choruses and bridges, poetic lyrics and beautiful harmonies. If you click the Kaiho link, go to "band page" on the left and listen to songs. My favorite is "Call Me" for the harmonies in the chorus and the dramatic breakdown at the end.
When we had talked about my moving in, we discussed jamming with the band sometimes. However, as it is, it seems they're letting me be a real member! I have no plans for the next 70 years, so I'm inclined to stick with them if they'll let me. I really think they could go places. It might mean moving to London in September, but we'll see. I had a busy week of practicing parts! They had one song with some simple accordion that Sas would do, so that was the first song I learned. I played Sas's blue 48-bass, which is tricky since I'm not used to it. We worked out parts for the other songs, which is mostly done on my right hand to accommodate the keys in which I can't play. It was fun arranging little parts for myself, rather than trying to fit in as much as possible! I was also assigned some important harmonies. There was the part in Call Me, but also there's a bridge in "Charango Song" that could use a harmony, and since we didn't want accordion on that one I was the prime candidate! Felt great to be singing on stage again! I shook a shaker for the rest of that song, so I wouldn't just awkwardly stand there. We didn't have a shaker though, so I used a bottle of pills. This was an idea I got from Kami Lyle, an amazing woman who performed after me at Yule for Fuel.
We had a gig at The Jazz Bar last Thursday night. It's a nice bar in the Old Town that's super jazzy: dim lights, candles, classy bar, stage with piano. I can imagine it being really chill with a five or so piece jazz band playing. We were one of five groups that performed, and we went first since the busy Harriet had to make it somewhere else. It went pretty well, and it was just so much fun being onstage and doing it. I'm less afflicted with nerves than I used to be, which made it just super exciting. We got a pretty good response, too!
Quick rundown of the other groups: a twosome (guy on guitar, girl singing) doing covers of pop songs. Eh. Another twosome, but members of an 11-piece blues band. Guy on drums, [American] guy on slide guitar and singing in a super Elvis-y style. Interesting. Then there was a bigger acid-y jazz group that supposedly lives in our building! They had this great female lead singer. I feel less bad about practicing all the time knowing that they also probably do!
It was a fun night. Looking forward to learning more of their songs and performing and getting that rock star ego boost that I miss so much (from college a cappella concerts, that is)!
Thanks for reading, and go here to chip in for new straps! http://sophiessmokinsqueezebox.webs.com/apps/webstore/products/show/2964362
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
"Where Does the Smoke Come Out?"
Wow, today's a two-poster! I wasn't planning on busking today, since I'm super lazy, but my homepage is now weather.com (just to encourage me to play, which clearly worked today). I'm still not "fluent" in Celsius, but Edinburgh was marked at 10 degrees, and I know that two digits is cause for celebration! Whereas I went fully serious last night (all black, no signs), I opted to go full "freaks and circus" (a term used by one man in the Castro to advise me on how I shouldn't dress to busk). This meant piano dress, Flaca, babysitting flyers, both signs, the works.
My flatmates had suggested playing on the Middle Meadow Walk, a pedestrian walkway that connects the main road to The Meadows, the big park. This street is lined on one side by University buildings and on the other by a building containing a Starbucks, Sainsbury's (grocery) and a casual restaurant. It's a good place to busk since it's near the main road, generally has lots of foot traffic, but it's not in the middle of the park where you might be disturbing peace/folks are only jogging.
This was indeed a good place, and I will be playing there again. The sun was out! For a while I was in direct contact with it, and it felt so good. I got that tingly feeling you get when you're out in the sun for the first time in the Spring. I was out from 12:30-2:30, so some people were out on lunch breaks. It's school holiday, so there were kids everywhere. As I said, I used my student loan sign, and folks commented on it like they usually do. I was right next to the University, though, so undoubtedly most assumed that I was a U. Edinburgh student. One asked what I'm studyING. I decided to be honest to seem super studious. Well honest with the major, not with the tense.
At times it was super windy. Not a problem for money, since it's all metal, but it was a problem for my loan sign and my set list, which was weighed down by a water bottle that was apparently no match for the wind. Flaca fell over a few times too, but she kept smiling. I kept waiting for someone to ask me to leave, but no one did! (There's a rule here that if ANYONE asks you to leave, you have to.)
Here's what happened (this is the longest list of notes I've had since getting here!):
Wednesday, February 15, 2012:
1. A young couple stood back and listened to me play. The girl said "We love you!" She elaborated, saying that they had seen me on Rose St., and she had told her boyfriend "If we ever get married she has to play at our wedding," and he agreed. Nice red hair and red bag.
2. Finally, finally people complimented my skirt! At least three [women]! One was on a moving bicycle.
3. A big sister escorted her little brother by for a listen, and the brother was clutching a balloon adorably.
4. Another family stopped by with two little boys. I was going to offer them Flaca, but one boy beat me to it: he walked right up and asked, "What's that?" or something. I said, "This is my friend Flaca. Would you like to help her dance?" Unfortunately she was super tangled (she hasn't danced in a while), so I couldn't get her perfectly flexible, but the boy and his brother didn't mind. One boy asked, "Is she a puppet?" And they hadn't heard of Mexico. During this interaction, a photography student lingered nearby, and produced some good shots! Here's one; I love the shadow of Flaca:
Photo by Zygimantas Sapronas
I'm one of the few people (in addition to maybe a psychiatrist) that has "untangle flaca" on her to-do list!
5. A crow was going nuts with the squawking! Singing along?
6. A man slowly biked by with his hand extended holding a mitten. I thought he was going to drop the mitten in my box, but dropped money instead! That takes skill!
7. Toddler #1000 walked by. Him: "What's that?" Mom: "It's an accordion." Boy, mystified: "It's an accordion!!"
8. It was mostly younger folks tipping me here, but this sort of stern middle aged woman walked up, and just seriously said "That's lovely." Another man said "Hi Sophie, have a nice day!" I guess the sunshine was getting to everyone!
9. This spot is no secret for getting people's money, as evidenced by the half dozen other people out stopping people. Several were from the Red Cross. I asked one if she was after blood or money, and she said money. Can't help you there! She did ask me if I could play a certain Queen song I didn't recognize, and said she was just in a mood that needed Queen. I played her "Don't Stop Me Now," and she danced a little.
10. A boy and his grandmother were walking and eating something delicious. Without much forethought, the little boy reached into his blue coat pocked, pulled out some change, and dropped it in without consulting Grandma. Love that.
11. A dog and his human companion walked by, and the dog also decided to bark along! We've got a good three-piece band now.
12. Someone walked by wearing an ascot. 'Nuff said.
13. An old man with a big white beard biked by in shorts (brrr!). He looked like he wanted to talk, so I stopped playing. Sure enough, he waited a beat then asked, "Where does the smoke come out?" I wish I had a clever retort for that.
14. There were also two students in full dog costumes walking around with buckets. The brown dog (not the white spotted one) came over and said hi, saying he had enjoyed my music. That's my first animal tip!
15. As I was packing up, a man stopped by with coins. I apologized that I was done for the day, but he tipped anyway and said, "We need more music." Yes we do!
I finally quit because I was coooooold. I hadn't properly bundled up since it was so warm and sunny when I left (one pair of rights/socks, only three sweaters instead of six). This will undoubtedly be my new favorite spot! I think I can also maybe move some babysitting flyers if I draw more attention to them. Let's home we get more sunny days!
Love,
S^3
My flatmates had suggested playing on the Middle Meadow Walk, a pedestrian walkway that connects the main road to The Meadows, the big park. This street is lined on one side by University buildings and on the other by a building containing a Starbucks, Sainsbury's (grocery) and a casual restaurant. It's a good place to busk since it's near the main road, generally has lots of foot traffic, but it's not in the middle of the park where you might be disturbing peace/folks are only jogging.
This was indeed a good place, and I will be playing there again. The sun was out! For a while I was in direct contact with it, and it felt so good. I got that tingly feeling you get when you're out in the sun for the first time in the Spring. I was out from 12:30-2:30, so some people were out on lunch breaks. It's school holiday, so there were kids everywhere. As I said, I used my student loan sign, and folks commented on it like they usually do. I was right next to the University, though, so undoubtedly most assumed that I was a U. Edinburgh student. One asked what I'm studyING. I decided to be honest to seem super studious. Well honest with the major, not with the tense.
At times it was super windy. Not a problem for money, since it's all metal, but it was a problem for my loan sign and my set list, which was weighed down by a water bottle that was apparently no match for the wind. Flaca fell over a few times too, but she kept smiling. I kept waiting for someone to ask me to leave, but no one did! (There's a rule here that if ANYONE asks you to leave, you have to.)
Here's what happened (this is the longest list of notes I've had since getting here!):
Wednesday, February 15, 2012:
1. A young couple stood back and listened to me play. The girl said "We love you!" She elaborated, saying that they had seen me on Rose St., and she had told her boyfriend "If we ever get married she has to play at our wedding," and he agreed. Nice red hair and red bag.
2. Finally, finally people complimented my skirt! At least three [women]! One was on a moving bicycle.
3. A big sister escorted her little brother by for a listen, and the brother was clutching a balloon adorably.
4. Another family stopped by with two little boys. I was going to offer them Flaca, but one boy beat me to it: he walked right up and asked, "What's that?" or something. I said, "This is my friend Flaca. Would you like to help her dance?" Unfortunately she was super tangled (she hasn't danced in a while), so I couldn't get her perfectly flexible, but the boy and his brother didn't mind. One boy asked, "Is she a puppet?" And they hadn't heard of Mexico. During this interaction, a photography student lingered nearby, and produced some good shots! Here's one; I love the shadow of Flaca:
Photo by Zygimantas Sapronas
I'm one of the few people (in addition to maybe a psychiatrist) that has "untangle flaca" on her to-do list!
5. A crow was going nuts with the squawking! Singing along?
6. A man slowly biked by with his hand extended holding a mitten. I thought he was going to drop the mitten in my box, but dropped money instead! That takes skill!
7. Toddler #1000 walked by. Him: "What's that?" Mom: "It's an accordion." Boy, mystified: "It's an accordion!!"
8. It was mostly younger folks tipping me here, but this sort of stern middle aged woman walked up, and just seriously said "That's lovely." Another man said "Hi Sophie, have a nice day!" I guess the sunshine was getting to everyone!
9. This spot is no secret for getting people's money, as evidenced by the half dozen other people out stopping people. Several were from the Red Cross. I asked one if she was after blood or money, and she said money. Can't help you there! She did ask me if I could play a certain Queen song I didn't recognize, and said she was just in a mood that needed Queen. I played her "Don't Stop Me Now," and she danced a little.
10. A boy and his grandmother were walking and eating something delicious. Without much forethought, the little boy reached into his blue coat pocked, pulled out some change, and dropped it in without consulting Grandma. Love that.
11. A dog and his human companion walked by, and the dog also decided to bark along! We've got a good three-piece band now.
12. Someone walked by wearing an ascot. 'Nuff said.
13. An old man with a big white beard biked by in shorts (brrr!). He looked like he wanted to talk, so I stopped playing. Sure enough, he waited a beat then asked, "Where does the smoke come out?" I wish I had a clever retort for that.
14. There were also two students in full dog costumes walking around with buckets. The brown dog (not the white spotted one) came over and said hi, saying he had enjoyed my music. That's my first animal tip!
15. As I was packing up, a man stopped by with coins. I apologized that I was done for the day, but he tipped anyway and said, "We need more music." Yes we do!
I finally quit because I was coooooold. I hadn't properly bundled up since it was so warm and sunny when I left (one pair of rights/socks, only three sweaters instead of six). This will undoubtedly be my new favorite spot! I think I can also maybe move some babysitting flyers if I draw more attention to them. Let's home we get more sunny days!
Love,
S^3
My Funny Valentine's Day
Love was in the air last night (not) when we took to the streets of Edinburgh for a special Valentine's Day set. Last year, in San Francisco, I practiced a bunch of special romantic songs for the big day (Love Me Tender, La Vie en Rose, My Funny Valentine, I Want You Back), put together a pink outfit (complete with pipe cleaner hearts on a headband), and then got rained out.
I practiced those songs again this year (plus Let's Stay Together), but opted to wear all black. There were bound to be grumpy anti-Valentine's folks out and about as well, and I thought I would get tips from more people if I didn't give in to the commercial craze by donning hearts.
I went over to Rose St. first, but there didn't seem to be much action. The stores on Princes St. were closing, and there weren't enough open restaurants for it to be worth my while. I headed over to the Royal Mile, considering setting up on North Bridge (but buses are loud), but eventually set up across from St. Giles Cathedral on the Royal Mile.
The Royal Mile just sucks this time of year!! Folks say it's great, but I'm doing really poorly there. It was pretty boring, but these interactions happened:
Tuesday, February 14, 2012:
1. Despite being Valentine's Day, I played all of my songs, including the completely non-romantic ones (such as "Werewolves of London" and "Chim Chim Cheree." I played the latter, and a family walked by and tipped, saying something about Mary Poppins. I confirmed that it wasn't a super romantic song, and he said, in a Scottish accent, "Mary Poppins is always a favorite!"
2. Parents walked by with their toddler, who was wearing a yellow and black snowsuit that made him look like a mascot for DeWalt. He got himself out of the stroller to listen, and just stood, transfixed, holding his papa's hand. After each song, he burst into applause. I guess this kid's used to shows! Cute.
3. In the evenings, Ghost Tours depart from the cathedral. They are led by folks in long black capes, and they have bigger crowds than any other tour I've seen. I'm in no hurry to do the tour, but it brings tourists along a haunted route, pointed out suicides from North Bridge, hangings where people survived in Grassmarket, and all sorts of weird things in graveyards. I felt a little bad for playing when they were trying to talk across the street, but oh well. I didn't have any scary songs to play, and wondered if anyone would recognize "This is Halloween." The guides brought their groups right by me, but no one tipped. Darn!
4. Something awesome happened. This young man wearing a lot of orange (hat, scarf, and more) stood across the street listening. Later, he came by and said that I had been playing some sort of theme song, and sang a bar. I didn't recognize it. I hadn't played Tetris or Wallace and Gromit yet, which just left the Godfather. He said it wasn't. He sang it again, but I didn't pick up anything. I tried my luck..."Twin Peaks?" "Yes!" Whattttt. "Where are you from?" "Sweden." Apparently Twin Peaks has made it to Sweden! And to think, I just posted on facebook my confidence that no one would recognize it over here. (Later, I was talking to an Englishman who also knows it--no way!)
5. I started playing my new "Let's Stay Together," and two men reacted. They said something like, "You started playing a song but then switched to another melody!" Didn't quite follow them. When the confusion abated, it was clear that they thought I was playing the intro song to Pulp Fiction. They sang it, and it did sound like the intro to Let's Stay Together. Hm.
6. A guy came up with lots of equipment. He said he had just gotten to town and wanted to meet the other street musicians. He's Czech and plays the didgeridoo. Obviously. He actually took more of my time that I would have liked, since I was clearly trying to play and make money! That's how you can tell he's an amateur. He asked about good spots, and I was stingy and didn't tell him about Rose St. "Yeah, the Royal Mile's totally the best!" This will come back to haunt me. Although I did truthfully suggest he go away from the castle, since there wasn't much happening in that direction, but he walked towards the castle anyway. I saw him walking back the other direction soon after. Nice that he's into meeting his colleagues. His name is long and complicated, but he gave me permission to call him by the first syllable: Dal.
7. And then...the evening-changer. A friendly young man approached me and told me about the "Uke Boogie," a monthly open mic night for anything except guitars. That's really cool, since, as you know, most open mic nights are boring guitar player after boring guitar player. Tonight was the night! He told me when and where, and encouraged me to come play. I did.
8. The Uke Boogie. So awesome. Made this the best Valentine's Day ever. This is an excellent place to meet weirdos, in a good way (my people). All sorts of cool shoes and unconventional haircuts, and folks were super nice. It took place in the basement of the Banshee Labyrinth, a punk/heavy metal club. In fact, it looked so scary from the outside with the black and neon green everywhere, that I almost pretended I hadn't seen the pencil sign saying "Uke Boogie" with an arrow pointing downstairs and left. There were lots of people there, and a good amount of performers, but it moved quickly and was great entertainment. A super chatty rather rotund woman wearing a shirt with an indecipherable pattern (legos? pills? atoms?) sang (she was later spotted knitting booties during other acts). A bearded man played piano and sang songs that were humorous, but I couldn't hear him! An adorably innocent and shy young woman played Uke, and romantically dedicated "You've Got a Friend" to her boyfriend, who is also her best friend. I want her to be my friend too. There was a long act from Todd, a fellow American. He does street magic. I'd like to talk to him more. I guess he's from Florida, and he played a sad song he wrote for his 15 year old daughter, who he recently saw for the first time in twelve years.
It was a supportive crowd when I got up there! I had no idea what to play, so I asked them and we decided that they wanted to hear both pretty songs and recognizable songs, and NOT romantic songs. I opened with "Werewolves of London" as my non-romantic song (although it's still shaky), then "La Noyee" from Amelie as a pretty song (this seemed like an Amelie crowd), then wrapped it up with "Dynamite," which everyone gets excited about whether or not they're supposed to be alternative and not even know current pop songs.
The hosts were Alex (who recruited me) and "Pockets," and they performed together a bunch. They both play ukes and sing, and Alex also plays melodica and glockenspiel (while wearing a partial tiger costume). Pockets also plays what I think he called a "banjulele," which is simply a ukulele-sized banjo which he supposedly made. Cool! Their songs were really catchy and funny. They ended the night with a cover of "Don't Stop me Now" with Pockets on lead uke and vocals, and Alex on backup uke, glock, melodica, vocal harmonies, and random banging on things. Brought down the house.
Everyone was super friendly; I was so happy I had found this group! After each act Alex instructed the crowd to "go crazy for [whoever just performed." Woo-hoo! The boogie happens on the second tuesday of each month, but they say they post other events on the facebook group for those who can't wait that long. They're also looking for a new venue, since they're over capacity at the current one. Awesome. Oh, and there was a raffle with prizes presumably purchased at charity shops all over the city. These included weird homemade art, a feather boa, and a Dr. Who Operation game. Maybe I'll win big next time.
Anyway, that's all for Valentine's Day playing! Off to practice "Pirates of the Caribbean."
XOXO
I practiced those songs again this year (plus Let's Stay Together), but opted to wear all black. There were bound to be grumpy anti-Valentine's folks out and about as well, and I thought I would get tips from more people if I didn't give in to the commercial craze by donning hearts.
I went over to Rose St. first, but there didn't seem to be much action. The stores on Princes St. were closing, and there weren't enough open restaurants for it to be worth my while. I headed over to the Royal Mile, considering setting up on North Bridge (but buses are loud), but eventually set up across from St. Giles Cathedral on the Royal Mile.
The Royal Mile just sucks this time of year!! Folks say it's great, but I'm doing really poorly there. It was pretty boring, but these interactions happened:
Tuesday, February 14, 2012:
1. Despite being Valentine's Day, I played all of my songs, including the completely non-romantic ones (such as "Werewolves of London" and "Chim Chim Cheree." I played the latter, and a family walked by and tipped, saying something about Mary Poppins. I confirmed that it wasn't a super romantic song, and he said, in a Scottish accent, "Mary Poppins is always a favorite!"
2. Parents walked by with their toddler, who was wearing a yellow and black snowsuit that made him look like a mascot for DeWalt. He got himself out of the stroller to listen, and just stood, transfixed, holding his papa's hand. After each song, he burst into applause. I guess this kid's used to shows! Cute.
3. In the evenings, Ghost Tours depart from the cathedral. They are led by folks in long black capes, and they have bigger crowds than any other tour I've seen. I'm in no hurry to do the tour, but it brings tourists along a haunted route, pointed out suicides from North Bridge, hangings where people survived in Grassmarket, and all sorts of weird things in graveyards. I felt a little bad for playing when they were trying to talk across the street, but oh well. I didn't have any scary songs to play, and wondered if anyone would recognize "This is Halloween." The guides brought their groups right by me, but no one tipped. Darn!
4. Something awesome happened. This young man wearing a lot of orange (hat, scarf, and more) stood across the street listening. Later, he came by and said that I had been playing some sort of theme song, and sang a bar. I didn't recognize it. I hadn't played Tetris or Wallace and Gromit yet, which just left the Godfather. He said it wasn't. He sang it again, but I didn't pick up anything. I tried my luck..."Twin Peaks?" "Yes!" Whattttt. "Where are you from?" "Sweden." Apparently Twin Peaks has made it to Sweden! And to think, I just posted on facebook my confidence that no one would recognize it over here. (Later, I was talking to an Englishman who also knows it--no way!)
5. I started playing my new "Let's Stay Together," and two men reacted. They said something like, "You started playing a song but then switched to another melody!" Didn't quite follow them. When the confusion abated, it was clear that they thought I was playing the intro song to Pulp Fiction. They sang it, and it did sound like the intro to Let's Stay Together. Hm.
6. A guy came up with lots of equipment. He said he had just gotten to town and wanted to meet the other street musicians. He's Czech and plays the didgeridoo. Obviously. He actually took more of my time that I would have liked, since I was clearly trying to play and make money! That's how you can tell he's an amateur. He asked about good spots, and I was stingy and didn't tell him about Rose St. "Yeah, the Royal Mile's totally the best!" This will come back to haunt me. Although I did truthfully suggest he go away from the castle, since there wasn't much happening in that direction, but he walked towards the castle anyway. I saw him walking back the other direction soon after. Nice that he's into meeting his colleagues. His name is long and complicated, but he gave me permission to call him by the first syllable: Dal.
7. And then...the evening-changer. A friendly young man approached me and told me about the "Uke Boogie," a monthly open mic night for anything except guitars. That's really cool, since, as you know, most open mic nights are boring guitar player after boring guitar player. Tonight was the night! He told me when and where, and encouraged me to come play. I did.
8. The Uke Boogie. So awesome. Made this the best Valentine's Day ever. This is an excellent place to meet weirdos, in a good way (my people). All sorts of cool shoes and unconventional haircuts, and folks were super nice. It took place in the basement of the Banshee Labyrinth, a punk/heavy metal club. In fact, it looked so scary from the outside with the black and neon green everywhere, that I almost pretended I hadn't seen the pencil sign saying "Uke Boogie" with an arrow pointing downstairs and left. There were lots of people there, and a good amount of performers, but it moved quickly and was great entertainment. A super chatty rather rotund woman wearing a shirt with an indecipherable pattern (legos? pills? atoms?) sang (she was later spotted knitting booties during other acts). A bearded man played piano and sang songs that were humorous, but I couldn't hear him! An adorably innocent and shy young woman played Uke, and romantically dedicated "You've Got a Friend" to her boyfriend, who is also her best friend. I want her to be my friend too. There was a long act from Todd, a fellow American. He does street magic. I'd like to talk to him more. I guess he's from Florida, and he played a sad song he wrote for his 15 year old daughter, who he recently saw for the first time in twelve years.
It was a supportive crowd when I got up there! I had no idea what to play, so I asked them and we decided that they wanted to hear both pretty songs and recognizable songs, and NOT romantic songs. I opened with "Werewolves of London" as my non-romantic song (although it's still shaky), then "La Noyee" from Amelie as a pretty song (this seemed like an Amelie crowd), then wrapped it up with "Dynamite," which everyone gets excited about whether or not they're supposed to be alternative and not even know current pop songs.
The hosts were Alex (who recruited me) and "Pockets," and they performed together a bunch. They both play ukes and sing, and Alex also plays melodica and glockenspiel (while wearing a partial tiger costume). Pockets also plays what I think he called a "banjulele," which is simply a ukulele-sized banjo which he supposedly made. Cool! Their songs were really catchy and funny. They ended the night with a cover of "Don't Stop me Now" with Pockets on lead uke and vocals, and Alex on backup uke, glock, melodica, vocal harmonies, and random banging on things. Brought down the house.
Everyone was super friendly; I was so happy I had found this group! After each act Alex instructed the crowd to "go crazy for [whoever just performed." Woo-hoo! The boogie happens on the second tuesday of each month, but they say they post other events on the facebook group for those who can't wait that long. They're also looking for a new venue, since they're over capacity at the current one. Awesome. Oh, and there was a raffle with prizes presumably purchased at charity shops all over the city. These included weird homemade art, a feather boa, and a Dr. Who Operation game. Maybe I'll win big next time.
Anyway, that's all for Valentine's Day playing! Off to practice "Pirates of the Caribbean."
XOXO
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Smokin'?
Hello,
Busked the last two days! It'll definitely take some time to figure out the best spots, songs, and signs to use, but I'm glad I'm getting out there. I need to be really disciplined about going out!
Friday, February 10, 2012:
I set up, around 7:00, on the Royal Mile. There was a guy out playing sitar. It actually went pretty badly, most people ignored me, and very few tipped. The good news is that I wasn't cold for a while, and actually got so hot walking that I started off with one less sweater than I had brought and no gloves and hat. 4 degrees is actually like 40, so not brrr at all. I'm not using my "playing back student loans" sign because that always sparks the conversation about school, and I kind of don't want to make it obvious that I'm not European. Don't want to be that American making money from bankrupt Europe to spend in America. However, the subtext of that sign is "I am not homeless" which I think makes me more money. I have to think of another way to not look homeless. A man talked to me a bit, and said "I'm homeless myself" which implies that I am too, right? Or at least not well off. Not that I want to brag about being financially stable, it's just a busking fact that the richer you look, the better you do! Also not sure how people are reacting to Sophie's Smokin' Squeezebox, so I might even hide that sign. Trying to think of what sign people would like--"Raising Funds to Stay in Edinburgh" "Need Money to Tour the Castle"--it's a stiff admission fee!
At like 8:15 or so I decided to pack up and move to Grassmarket, where there are bars and drunk people. As I packed up, the homeless guy, who had been strolling and talking to people, greeted a friend of his (they shared a big hug). The friend talked to me while I packed up. Old guy. Couldn't understand him. He was a little closer than I liked, so I made quick work of getting my stuff together. I think he said he's Polish, and that he has a spine problem, and he kept howling in pain and crouching down then laughing.
As I walked there was another guitar player out, playing Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah" (which is SO overdone by street musicians). When I walked by he immediately stopped and, while doing the universal symbol for accordion playing, concernedly asked if he was too close. Totally nice guy. His name is Martin, and he's a regular Edinburgh busker. He confirmed that he was doing as badly as I was, but that the problem was it was too early. You have to go when people are drinking (I guess it's not a good dinner area). 10...11. I asked, "But aren't we supposed to stop at 9:00?" He said that it was just a guideline, a guideline that he had written! I guess he's really an important busker. "But they messed it up, I said 10:00, 11:00 on the weekends!" Basically I should stop at 9:00 if anyone's seriously complaining, and the authorities can use that if a busker's causing trouble past nine. He thought I would clean up on Valentine's Day weekend over here. I forget how he described my sound, compared to his, in a context that would appeal to romantics on a valentine's getaway. I guess couples were walking by him and women were nudging men to get out some change. He also thought I would kill it in Grassmarket. He mentioned some of the other regular female buskers, and said that he and the sitar player were nice guys. "It's cooperation or competition." True that. Good person to know. He also said that he was going to call it a night, since he had been out for eight hours!! He said it was a good spot because the bouncers at the bar next door (The Filling Station) were super cool. They'd watch your stuff if you needed a break and let you nip in for the loo or whatever. Martin sends them customers in return.
I didn't take his spot, but went on to Grassmarket. I needed to use the loo, so I peeked into the hostel I had stayed at to see who was working. It was Emily, the super nice Canadian. She gave me permission to use the bathroom, and I ran upstairs. I saw my old Spanish friends Enric, Marcos, Bibi and Miquel. Three hugs is fabulous, as I'm getting zero hugs most days! I set up again outside the Last Drop (this time wearing my hat, gloves, and extra sweater). It was definitely better here, although still not ideal. Definitely lots of drinking. This area is popular for "stag and hen parties." One guy asked about Flaca right away, and had a hard time with her name. There were some older folks strolling around, who I thought I'd do well with, but no.
I'm actually sounding pretty good these days! There were a few homeless people in the area, and I felt bad for competing with them for change. There are a lot of homeless folks in the city, and they all have sleeping bags. I wonder if it's a citywide initiative to distribute them. There were two big parties that all dropped in some coins, so that was my main moneymaker.
1. My favorite people were two young friends: a Nigerian man and a Scottish woman. They heard Lady Gaga and came to talk, and they were super nice. The woman was clearly drunk, and her friend explained that her boyfriend doesn't let her out much, so she took nights out when she could get them. Something about "sleep, eat, shit." I guess that's her usual instructions at home? Hm. They had me play all my pop songs, and felt strongly that if I played them there people would come from all over to hear. The woman didn't have change, so after the man tipped he threw in another £2 (£2 coins exist, and they're big and awesome) if the woman would buy him a drink. They thought I was brave coming over here alone, and they said it in such a nice way. The woman hugged me three times--up to six hugs!! (She asked me first though.) She said that she thinks people from Massachusetts are so nice. Know who's not nice? Their third friend. She came out of a bar and just grabbed their elbows and started walking. I could hear the woman tell her friend "Go back and hear her play!" but the friend just marched them faster. They both looked back and waved.
2. There was a typical bachelorette/"hen" party with women in little black dresses and tiny pink "top hats" pinned to their heads to match their pink sashes. One had a white veil pinned to her head. You see so many parties like this walking around, and you see the costume kits in stores. I pulled out a move that works with the gay male bachelorette parties in Provincetown: stopping whatever song I'm playing (in this case The Godfather) to play a rousing rendition of "Here Comes the Bride." One bridesmaid noticed and pointed it out, but I did not get a tip. WTF.
3. Some parents walked by with their three daughters, who were fully made up, with fancy hairdos, little dresses with bare arms and legs, and cute purses (won't say heels because I'm not positive). It was cold and past their bedtime. And they looked like sluts. That's-a no good.
4. I always enjoy getting to know other workers while busking. This includes pedi-cab drivers, valet parkers, red cross solicitors, etc. In Grassmarket, there is indeed a fleet of pedi-cabs (which of course the rest of the world calls Rickshaws). The guys who drive them are my new batch of coworkers. There's one I met before, Sam, who's super nice.
I was worried about annoying the two bouncers outside the bars I was closest to, in addition to the neighbors. But at one point I caught a bouncer dancing a little, and later I saw a flash of light, looked up, and saw a guy leaning out of his 4th floor window to take a picture of me. He waved. Guess I wasn't pissing them off too much!
*************
Saturday, February 11, 2012:
I went out on Saturday as well. Starting from when I was a breakfast waitress last summer, I really nailed down a nice early schedule. That's something I'm struggling with a little here, since I'm used to going to bed early and starting my day early. However, now that I'm in an awesome international city, it's in my best interests to take advantage of the people and events and stay out late! As a result, of course, I'm sleeping in. Weird. Anyway, I didn't get out to play until about 4:00 pm on Saturday (definitely didn't make the Saturday morning farmer's market!). I decided to stick with Rose St., since I had done well there the previous weekend. Sure enough, there were people everywhere. I chose a spot (between Hanover and Frederick streets) that wasn't near too many bustling businesses or other street musicians.
Unfortunately, when I was just a couple of songs in, an angry man came up to me. I really couldn't understand a word he was saying, but I pieced together that he was a beggar and didn't like my choice of spot. He pointed to another beggar a block down as well. I pointed out that I was more than 50 metres away, the requirement, but he seemed to have as much trouble with my accent as I did with his. He pointed back in the direction he had come from and possibly said that there was a big gap with no one in it. I didn't have to pack up, but he was actually kind of scary, so I did. I walked in the direction he pointed (I could faintly hear a guitar coming from the other direction), and saw him sitting in his sleeping bag smoking a cigarette. I really have no sympathy for poor folks who smoke, even if someone had given him that cigarette it doesn't do much to lure in other tips, in my opinion. Anyway, I went quite far down from him, passed another guitar player playing "Hallelujah," and came across the first place I had played on Rose St., down by Castle St. I checked for loogies before unpacking. Here I stayed until almost 7:00, my longest set yet!
1. A guy who had been smoking outside a bar came over and tipped me just for the Amelie. I told him I had a few more Amelie songs in my repertoire, and he said he'd try to time his cigarette breaks.
2. I'm experiencing something I haven't experienced before: my hair getting in the way! This is the longest my hair has been since I've played the accordion (which isn't saying much), and it's in the way! Sometimes it gets stuck in the bellows, but more often it just falls on the keys, thus making my hand slide off, obscuring the view, or blocking access to some keys (if I pin it down on an E, for example, I can't get to the C below it). I'm going to have to start matching Flaca and braiding it!
3. Several people have mentioned a Bee Gees song about Massachusetts, which I must learn! This came up in a nice interaction with two men, who I took to be father and son. The son asked, "Are you American?" but I heard something about "mannequin" and assumed he was talking about Flaca. Luckily I just said "Yes," rather than elaborating on Flaca. They mentioned the MA song when I said where I was from, and they were both concerned with me freezing. The old man felt my hand to see how bad it was. I pulled out my hand-warmers from the pocket where they were activating, and the men were baffled! Really nobody knows of them over here! They're really not as good as American ones, but they help.
4. It's annoying when people take out their wallets or hold money while walking by me, then don't tip. I had to laugh when two people in a row did this: one walking by with an open wallet, and another looking right at me as he jingled the coins in his pocket. Thankss.
5. Rose St. is so pretty and nice, and where I was standing by the intersection with Castle St. had two lampposts with big round bulbs on top. At one point they turned on, slowly getting brighter, and effectively illuminating the block. Nice.
6. A real gypsy came by. She looked just like the ones I got used to in Spain, long skirt, kerchief, etc. She had a cup and was asking people for money. Of course she came right up to me, and looked right at my stash of coins. Uh-oh. She wasn't an English speaker, and communicated to me by gesturing food/eating. I denied her request, but it took a long time to get her to move on. I really have to keep taking my earnings out and hiding them.
7. I realized a sad truth yesterday: I can't take breaks. When I was playing in the cold at home I counted on my pizza break and my hot chocolate break to make it through the cold shifts. I had asked the folks at The Button Box accordion repair shop how bad it is for the instrument to play in the cold. Bob said that it's okay, but what I don't want to do is have it in the cold, bring it inside to the warmth, and immediately start playing again. You get condensation on the inside due to the temperature change, and if you play it can rust the reeds, which is bad news. This was easy enough to avoid, since I never played it immediately after going inside. However, I realized today that if I bring it inside for a bit then bring it outside and start playing again, it's essentially the same thing. The condensation that formed when I went inside would linger long enough to have an impact, right? I got a bunch of valves replaced before coming over here, and I haven't broken the rules yet. Until I research this issue further, I'm going to avoid breaks. At home I know/trust the other buskers well enough to leave my accordion outside while I warm myself up, but there's certainly no one here I would trust with that at the moment. That said, I was cold and wanted a hot drink. There was a 0% chance of anyone I knew walking by who I could ask to go get me a drink. I hoped the two men who were worried about me in the cold would come back and offer to get me something. I sent hardcore vibes to everyone walking by to offer this service (it worked for pizza in San Francisco!) but alas none did. I thought about how great it would be if there was a "'May I help you?' riff," like in Wayne's World. You simply play this riff which indicates to passersby that you need something. If only. I ended up powering through for an extra hour after I wanted to break. Too bad I didn't bring my travel mug over with me.
8. Ready? One of my favorite interactions ever (thus in bold):
A pack of 14-ish-year-old boys walked by, and one threw a coin in my box right as another friend verbally protested this.
I asked, "You don't want your friend to support me?"
He asked, "Does this money go to fund your smoking habit?"
"No!"
"Then why does it say 'Smokin''?"
"It's 'Smokin'' as in 'Awesome.'"
("I liked the alliteration!," piped up another boy.)
"Then why not say...'Smophie's [insert chortles from the others']...Sizzlin' Squeezebox?'"
"Because then people might think I'm raising money for my meat-grilling habit."
[Puzzled expression.]
I forget the rest of the conversation, but I loved it. I loved how concerned this boy was with supporting a smoker (clearly some Scottish schools or parents do some hardcore health education), and his determination to suggest an alternative. I loved that most of them really gave me their full attention, and they weren't embarrassed to be talking to me. Of course I loved that the first boy tipped in the first place. They seemed like just a kind, not obnoxious pack of tweenage boys, which one doesn't always come upon! They walked by again later, and another one jokingly asked me, "Hey, do you smoke?" and they shared warm laughter that didn't really seem to mock the original misinterpreter. Anyway, it's stuff like this that makes me love what I do.
9. I was sure that kid thinking my sign meant that I smoke was just a fluke, but then an adult made the same mistake later! He stopped, considered "Smokin'..." aloud, and asked if I had a cigarette. His adult friends laughed as well and gave him a hard time, so I really hope these two are unique in this conclusion. I'm used to the trouble my sign gives me based on unintentional sexual connotations, but I never expected this! I could do a great graphic of an accordion with a cigarette hanging out of its bellows if that was the message I was giving! We'll see if this confusion persists...
10. Lastly, the Grumpy Bum walked by again. He ranted about something, and I heard just the words "every day." He's in for a surprise if he thinks my presence was a one time thing! I started to say "I'm really sorry..." but he wanted away, muttering "hargle bargle sorry...humf." This guy stressed me out for the remainder of the evening. I'm catastrophizing the worst-case scenario, where he insists I move every time and continually heckles me, getting all the homeless folks to gang up on me. I'm also assuming that he doesn't like the fact that I'm a foreigner coming to compete, and I found myself thinking about a good lie that might win his sympathy, about being an orphan raised by gypsies who went to American International Schools all over the place, thus explaining my American accent (and impeccable use of grammar?). Or I thought about being an outlaw who couldn't leave the country, so he'd have to get used to me. My brother reminded me that cops don't generally love homeless people, so they probably wouldn't side with them, but I still worry. That's too good a spot to give up. I'll just stick to the West End by Castle St and not walk by that guy in the first place. Maybe he'll leave walking the other direction next time.
I'm not making as much money as I'm used to, but it's not a terrible hourly rate and I must remember that it adds up! As it's my only source of income now, I really have to be disciplined about going out at least four days a week, two hours a day. Then I can cover some expenses. Gearing up for a big Valentine's Day, so we'll hopefully have a lot to report then!
Love,
S^3
Busked the last two days! It'll definitely take some time to figure out the best spots, songs, and signs to use, but I'm glad I'm getting out there. I need to be really disciplined about going out!
Friday, February 10, 2012:
I set up, around 7:00, on the Royal Mile. There was a guy out playing sitar. It actually went pretty badly, most people ignored me, and very few tipped. The good news is that I wasn't cold for a while, and actually got so hot walking that I started off with one less sweater than I had brought and no gloves and hat. 4 degrees is actually like 40, so not brrr at all. I'm not using my "playing back student loans" sign because that always sparks the conversation about school, and I kind of don't want to make it obvious that I'm not European. Don't want to be that American making money from bankrupt Europe to spend in America. However, the subtext of that sign is "I am not homeless" which I think makes me more money. I have to think of another way to not look homeless. A man talked to me a bit, and said "I'm homeless myself" which implies that I am too, right? Or at least not well off. Not that I want to brag about being financially stable, it's just a busking fact that the richer you look, the better you do! Also not sure how people are reacting to Sophie's Smokin' Squeezebox, so I might even hide that sign. Trying to think of what sign people would like--"Raising Funds to Stay in Edinburgh" "Need Money to Tour the Castle"--it's a stiff admission fee!
At like 8:15 or so I decided to pack up and move to Grassmarket, where there are bars and drunk people. As I packed up, the homeless guy, who had been strolling and talking to people, greeted a friend of his (they shared a big hug). The friend talked to me while I packed up. Old guy. Couldn't understand him. He was a little closer than I liked, so I made quick work of getting my stuff together. I think he said he's Polish, and that he has a spine problem, and he kept howling in pain and crouching down then laughing.
As I walked there was another guitar player out, playing Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah" (which is SO overdone by street musicians). When I walked by he immediately stopped and, while doing the universal symbol for accordion playing, concernedly asked if he was too close. Totally nice guy. His name is Martin, and he's a regular Edinburgh busker. He confirmed that he was doing as badly as I was, but that the problem was it was too early. You have to go when people are drinking (I guess it's not a good dinner area). 10...11. I asked, "But aren't we supposed to stop at 9:00?" He said that it was just a guideline, a guideline that he had written! I guess he's really an important busker. "But they messed it up, I said 10:00, 11:00 on the weekends!" Basically I should stop at 9:00 if anyone's seriously complaining, and the authorities can use that if a busker's causing trouble past nine. He thought I would clean up on Valentine's Day weekend over here. I forget how he described my sound, compared to his, in a context that would appeal to romantics on a valentine's getaway. I guess couples were walking by him and women were nudging men to get out some change. He also thought I would kill it in Grassmarket. He mentioned some of the other regular female buskers, and said that he and the sitar player were nice guys. "It's cooperation or competition." True that. Good person to know. He also said that he was going to call it a night, since he had been out for eight hours!! He said it was a good spot because the bouncers at the bar next door (The Filling Station) were super cool. They'd watch your stuff if you needed a break and let you nip in for the loo or whatever. Martin sends them customers in return.
I didn't take his spot, but went on to Grassmarket. I needed to use the loo, so I peeked into the hostel I had stayed at to see who was working. It was Emily, the super nice Canadian. She gave me permission to use the bathroom, and I ran upstairs. I saw my old Spanish friends Enric, Marcos, Bibi and Miquel. Three hugs is fabulous, as I'm getting zero hugs most days! I set up again outside the Last Drop (this time wearing my hat, gloves, and extra sweater). It was definitely better here, although still not ideal. Definitely lots of drinking. This area is popular for "stag and hen parties." One guy asked about Flaca right away, and had a hard time with her name. There were some older folks strolling around, who I thought I'd do well with, but no.
I'm actually sounding pretty good these days! There were a few homeless people in the area, and I felt bad for competing with them for change. There are a lot of homeless folks in the city, and they all have sleeping bags. I wonder if it's a citywide initiative to distribute them. There were two big parties that all dropped in some coins, so that was my main moneymaker.
1. My favorite people were two young friends: a Nigerian man and a Scottish woman. They heard Lady Gaga and came to talk, and they were super nice. The woman was clearly drunk, and her friend explained that her boyfriend doesn't let her out much, so she took nights out when she could get them. Something about "sleep, eat, shit." I guess that's her usual instructions at home? Hm. They had me play all my pop songs, and felt strongly that if I played them there people would come from all over to hear. The woman didn't have change, so after the man tipped he threw in another £2 (£2 coins exist, and they're big and awesome) if the woman would buy him a drink. They thought I was brave coming over here alone, and they said it in such a nice way. The woman hugged me three times--up to six hugs!! (She asked me first though.) She said that she thinks people from Massachusetts are so nice. Know who's not nice? Their third friend. She came out of a bar and just grabbed their elbows and started walking. I could hear the woman tell her friend "Go back and hear her play!" but the friend just marched them faster. They both looked back and waved.
2. There was a typical bachelorette/"hen" party with women in little black dresses and tiny pink "top hats" pinned to their heads to match their pink sashes. One had a white veil pinned to her head. You see so many parties like this walking around, and you see the costume kits in stores. I pulled out a move that works with the gay male bachelorette parties in Provincetown: stopping whatever song I'm playing (in this case The Godfather) to play a rousing rendition of "Here Comes the Bride." One bridesmaid noticed and pointed it out, but I did not get a tip. WTF.
3. Some parents walked by with their three daughters, who were fully made up, with fancy hairdos, little dresses with bare arms and legs, and cute purses (won't say heels because I'm not positive). It was cold and past their bedtime. And they looked like sluts. That's-a no good.
4. I always enjoy getting to know other workers while busking. This includes pedi-cab drivers, valet parkers, red cross solicitors, etc. In Grassmarket, there is indeed a fleet of pedi-cabs (which of course the rest of the world calls Rickshaws). The guys who drive them are my new batch of coworkers. There's one I met before, Sam, who's super nice.
I was worried about annoying the two bouncers outside the bars I was closest to, in addition to the neighbors. But at one point I caught a bouncer dancing a little, and later I saw a flash of light, looked up, and saw a guy leaning out of his 4th floor window to take a picture of me. He waved. Guess I wasn't pissing them off too much!
*************
Saturday, February 11, 2012:
I went out on Saturday as well. Starting from when I was a breakfast waitress last summer, I really nailed down a nice early schedule. That's something I'm struggling with a little here, since I'm used to going to bed early and starting my day early. However, now that I'm in an awesome international city, it's in my best interests to take advantage of the people and events and stay out late! As a result, of course, I'm sleeping in. Weird. Anyway, I didn't get out to play until about 4:00 pm on Saturday (definitely didn't make the Saturday morning farmer's market!). I decided to stick with Rose St., since I had done well there the previous weekend. Sure enough, there were people everywhere. I chose a spot (between Hanover and Frederick streets) that wasn't near too many bustling businesses or other street musicians.
Unfortunately, when I was just a couple of songs in, an angry man came up to me. I really couldn't understand a word he was saying, but I pieced together that he was a beggar and didn't like my choice of spot. He pointed to another beggar a block down as well. I pointed out that I was more than 50 metres away, the requirement, but he seemed to have as much trouble with my accent as I did with his. He pointed back in the direction he had come from and possibly said that there was a big gap with no one in it. I didn't have to pack up, but he was actually kind of scary, so I did. I walked in the direction he pointed (I could faintly hear a guitar coming from the other direction), and saw him sitting in his sleeping bag smoking a cigarette. I really have no sympathy for poor folks who smoke, even if someone had given him that cigarette it doesn't do much to lure in other tips, in my opinion. Anyway, I went quite far down from him, passed another guitar player playing "Hallelujah," and came across the first place I had played on Rose St., down by Castle St. I checked for loogies before unpacking. Here I stayed until almost 7:00, my longest set yet!
1. A guy who had been smoking outside a bar came over and tipped me just for the Amelie. I told him I had a few more Amelie songs in my repertoire, and he said he'd try to time his cigarette breaks.
2. I'm experiencing something I haven't experienced before: my hair getting in the way! This is the longest my hair has been since I've played the accordion (which isn't saying much), and it's in the way! Sometimes it gets stuck in the bellows, but more often it just falls on the keys, thus making my hand slide off, obscuring the view, or blocking access to some keys (if I pin it down on an E, for example, I can't get to the C below it). I'm going to have to start matching Flaca and braiding it!
3. Several people have mentioned a Bee Gees song about Massachusetts, which I must learn! This came up in a nice interaction with two men, who I took to be father and son. The son asked, "Are you American?" but I heard something about "mannequin" and assumed he was talking about Flaca. Luckily I just said "Yes," rather than elaborating on Flaca. They mentioned the MA song when I said where I was from, and they were both concerned with me freezing. The old man felt my hand to see how bad it was. I pulled out my hand-warmers from the pocket where they were activating, and the men were baffled! Really nobody knows of them over here! They're really not as good as American ones, but they help.
4. It's annoying when people take out their wallets or hold money while walking by me, then don't tip. I had to laugh when two people in a row did this: one walking by with an open wallet, and another looking right at me as he jingled the coins in his pocket. Thankss.
5. Rose St. is so pretty and nice, and where I was standing by the intersection with Castle St. had two lampposts with big round bulbs on top. At one point they turned on, slowly getting brighter, and effectively illuminating the block. Nice.
6. A real gypsy came by. She looked just like the ones I got used to in Spain, long skirt, kerchief, etc. She had a cup and was asking people for money. Of course she came right up to me, and looked right at my stash of coins. Uh-oh. She wasn't an English speaker, and communicated to me by gesturing food/eating. I denied her request, but it took a long time to get her to move on. I really have to keep taking my earnings out and hiding them.
7. I realized a sad truth yesterday: I can't take breaks. When I was playing in the cold at home I counted on my pizza break and my hot chocolate break to make it through the cold shifts. I had asked the folks at The Button Box accordion repair shop how bad it is for the instrument to play in the cold. Bob said that it's okay, but what I don't want to do is have it in the cold, bring it inside to the warmth, and immediately start playing again. You get condensation on the inside due to the temperature change, and if you play it can rust the reeds, which is bad news. This was easy enough to avoid, since I never played it immediately after going inside. However, I realized today that if I bring it inside for a bit then bring it outside and start playing again, it's essentially the same thing. The condensation that formed when I went inside would linger long enough to have an impact, right? I got a bunch of valves replaced before coming over here, and I haven't broken the rules yet. Until I research this issue further, I'm going to avoid breaks. At home I know/trust the other buskers well enough to leave my accordion outside while I warm myself up, but there's certainly no one here I would trust with that at the moment. That said, I was cold and wanted a hot drink. There was a 0% chance of anyone I knew walking by who I could ask to go get me a drink. I hoped the two men who were worried about me in the cold would come back and offer to get me something. I sent hardcore vibes to everyone walking by to offer this service (it worked for pizza in San Francisco!) but alas none did. I thought about how great it would be if there was a "'May I help you?' riff," like in Wayne's World. You simply play this riff which indicates to passersby that you need something. If only. I ended up powering through for an extra hour after I wanted to break. Too bad I didn't bring my travel mug over with me.
8. Ready? One of my favorite interactions ever (thus in bold):
A pack of 14-ish-year-old boys walked by, and one threw a coin in my box right as another friend verbally protested this.
I asked, "You don't want your friend to support me?"
He asked, "Does this money go to fund your smoking habit?"
"No!"
"Then why does it say 'Smokin''?"
"It's 'Smokin'' as in 'Awesome.'"
("I liked the alliteration!," piped up another boy.)
"Then why not say...'Smophie's [insert chortles from the others']...Sizzlin' Squeezebox?'"
"Because then people might think I'm raising money for my meat-grilling habit."
[Puzzled expression.]
I forget the rest of the conversation, but I loved it. I loved how concerned this boy was with supporting a smoker (clearly some Scottish schools or parents do some hardcore health education), and his determination to suggest an alternative. I loved that most of them really gave me their full attention, and they weren't embarrassed to be talking to me. Of course I loved that the first boy tipped in the first place. They seemed like just a kind, not obnoxious pack of tweenage boys, which one doesn't always come upon! They walked by again later, and another one jokingly asked me, "Hey, do you smoke?" and they shared warm laughter that didn't really seem to mock the original misinterpreter. Anyway, it's stuff like this that makes me love what I do.
9. I was sure that kid thinking my sign meant that I smoke was just a fluke, but then an adult made the same mistake later! He stopped, considered "Smokin'..." aloud, and asked if I had a cigarette. His adult friends laughed as well and gave him a hard time, so I really hope these two are unique in this conclusion. I'm used to the trouble my sign gives me based on unintentional sexual connotations, but I never expected this! I could do a great graphic of an accordion with a cigarette hanging out of its bellows if that was the message I was giving! We'll see if this confusion persists...
10. Lastly, the Grumpy Bum walked by again. He ranted about something, and I heard just the words "every day." He's in for a surprise if he thinks my presence was a one time thing! I started to say "I'm really sorry..." but he wanted away, muttering "hargle bargle sorry...humf." This guy stressed me out for the remainder of the evening. I'm catastrophizing the worst-case scenario, where he insists I move every time and continually heckles me, getting all the homeless folks to gang up on me. I'm also assuming that he doesn't like the fact that I'm a foreigner coming to compete, and I found myself thinking about a good lie that might win his sympathy, about being an orphan raised by gypsies who went to American International Schools all over the place, thus explaining my American accent (and impeccable use of grammar?). Or I thought about being an outlaw who couldn't leave the country, so he'd have to get used to me. My brother reminded me that cops don't generally love homeless people, so they probably wouldn't side with them, but I still worry. That's too good a spot to give up. I'll just stick to the West End by Castle St and not walk by that guy in the first place. Maybe he'll leave walking the other direction next time.
I'm not making as much money as I'm used to, but it's not a terrible hourly rate and I must remember that it adds up! As it's my only source of income now, I really have to be disciplined about going out at least four days a week, two hours a day. Then I can cover some expenses. Gearing up for a big Valentine's Day, so we'll hopefully have a lot to report then!
Love,
S^3
Monday, February 6, 2012
"Ye Canna Go Wrong with Wallace and Gromit!"
Yesterday afternoon was my second time busking here! This time I went down to Rose St., the quaint pedestrian road parallel to the mega shopping-y Princes St. in the New Town. I chose a place that I thought wouldn't piss off store owners: facing the side of a bank (not much to look at, but I wasn't asked to leave!). It wasn't terrible out, in the low forties with a tiny bit of sun. I did get cold though after about an hour and a half, and quit.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
The main lesson of this day was that I'm going to be missing a lot of one-liners. A bunch of people commented in heavy Scottish accents, then kept walking, and I couldn't help but think that what they said may have been awesome. I miss things every time I play, but it's going to happen a lot here!
1. A guy stopped to talk, saw the American dollars in my box (I left a couple in for feed money), and asked if I'm American. When I confirmed this, he told me that he was going to go to America. "I'm going to go fishing in the Rocky Mountains within ten years!" Excellent plan!
2. The US money actually brought more attention than I expected. I assumed people would think that Americans dropped it in and wouldn't think anything of it. One guy called it "cheeky" that Americans would do that.
3. After I had set up, I realized that I had stationed myself right next to a giant loogie on the sidewalk. There was no way of avoiding stepping in it. It's a hassle to move my stuff, even a couple of inches, so the only thing to do was to avoid looking down so maybe I'd forget about it. Of course this didn't happen, and I kept checking to see how much of it was on my shoe. By the time I packed up it was almost all gone though. Ew. I realized just now that I could have stood on the other side of my box, but I'm not used to that!
4. My favorite quote ever (the title of this post) came from a young Scottish man with a heavy accent: "Ye canna go wrong with Wallace and Gromit!" Even when you're wearing gloves and you're sliding all over the place, I guess!
5. A guy jogging even stopped to drop in a coin or two! Awesome! Americans don't do that!
6. A young man came over and left me a tip. He told me that his dad was in a nearby pub. He had told the son that I had been out there in the cold for two hours, and that he should tip me. It had only been like 45 minutes, but I'll take it!
7. Something nice about Rose St. is that there are roses made of stones laid into the cobblestones. Really nice. I looked at one as I played "La Vie en Rose."
8. I had a little crowd at one point! A man brushed off the windowsill of the bank and sat and listened for many songs, whistling and clapping after each one. The next windowsill provided a seat for two young women, who videotaped my Lady Gaga medley. Already having three people makes other people linger longer than they ordinarily would have. Awesome.
9. Something nice about playing here is that my tips are all medal, since the smallest bill in regular circulation is a £5. This means that wind is no longer the threat that it is at home!
I found that my customer base yesterday was mainly people who looked like tourists in their thirties (younger than my usual average tipper). I want to try Princes St. and the Royal Mile again to find my favorite corner! I was satisfied with yesterdays take; I don't usually post what I make, but £27 in about an hour and a half is a pretty solid hourly rate. Hope that's regular!
I want to practice new songs, specifically theme songs. On the top of the queue to learn are Pirates of the Caribbean, Lord of the Rings, Willy Wonka, Lara's Theme, and of course Bohemian Rhapsody.
I'm going to try to be really disciplined about going out most afternoons! There are always shoppers on Princes St., it's just a matter of weeding out the non-teenagers.
Now, a quick personal update:
Things are really good now! I've been here two weeks tonight, and I'm finally feeling like I've beat the initial homesickness and culture shock. I've had a few eye-opening moments reminding me that I'm actually IN the UK right now, so I have to get out and take advantage of every day!
I moved into an awesome apartment with awesome roommates. It's in a nice neighborhood Southeast of downtown, right by the park. There are lots of shops and restaurants and people. My roommates are super artistic and musical: two are in a band (Kaiho, look it up on facebook!), one's in grad school for poetry, and I'm not sure exactly what the fourth is studying, but he's generally really artsy. Oh, and he does stand-up comedy. These guys have been instant friends, which is super helpful. I've also been hanging out with my friend Rob from England/Wellfleet, and my Spanish friend Nacho from the hostel I stayed at. I've met two new potential friends this week: a pedi-cab driver and a folk musician who knows where to go for casual participatory folk music nights.
I won't be busking a ton quite yet because it's cold, so I'm going to try to use this time to write, learn new songs, and be a tourist and explore Scotland.
Oh, one other thing, I'm loving my small accordion more than ever! I've been playing my roommate's 48-bass a bit, and it's just so heavy and hard to navigate! I won't be getting a new one anytime soon.
Till next time, lads and lasses!
Sunday, February 5, 2012
The main lesson of this day was that I'm going to be missing a lot of one-liners. A bunch of people commented in heavy Scottish accents, then kept walking, and I couldn't help but think that what they said may have been awesome. I miss things every time I play, but it's going to happen a lot here!
1. A guy stopped to talk, saw the American dollars in my box (I left a couple in for feed money), and asked if I'm American. When I confirmed this, he told me that he was going to go to America. "I'm going to go fishing in the Rocky Mountains within ten years!" Excellent plan!
2. The US money actually brought more attention than I expected. I assumed people would think that Americans dropped it in and wouldn't think anything of it. One guy called it "cheeky" that Americans would do that.
3. After I had set up, I realized that I had stationed myself right next to a giant loogie on the sidewalk. There was no way of avoiding stepping in it. It's a hassle to move my stuff, even a couple of inches, so the only thing to do was to avoid looking down so maybe I'd forget about it. Of course this didn't happen, and I kept checking to see how much of it was on my shoe. By the time I packed up it was almost all gone though. Ew. I realized just now that I could have stood on the other side of my box, but I'm not used to that!
4. My favorite quote ever (the title of this post) came from a young Scottish man with a heavy accent: "Ye canna go wrong with Wallace and Gromit!" Even when you're wearing gloves and you're sliding all over the place, I guess!
5. A guy jogging even stopped to drop in a coin or two! Awesome! Americans don't do that!
6. A young man came over and left me a tip. He told me that his dad was in a nearby pub. He had told the son that I had been out there in the cold for two hours, and that he should tip me. It had only been like 45 minutes, but I'll take it!
7. Something nice about Rose St. is that there are roses made of stones laid into the cobblestones. Really nice. I looked at one as I played "La Vie en Rose."
8. I had a little crowd at one point! A man brushed off the windowsill of the bank and sat and listened for many songs, whistling and clapping after each one. The next windowsill provided a seat for two young women, who videotaped my Lady Gaga medley. Already having three people makes other people linger longer than they ordinarily would have. Awesome.
9. Something nice about playing here is that my tips are all medal, since the smallest bill in regular circulation is a £5. This means that wind is no longer the threat that it is at home!
I found that my customer base yesterday was mainly people who looked like tourists in their thirties (younger than my usual average tipper). I want to try Princes St. and the Royal Mile again to find my favorite corner! I was satisfied with yesterdays take; I don't usually post what I make, but £27 in about an hour and a half is a pretty solid hourly rate. Hope that's regular!
I want to practice new songs, specifically theme songs. On the top of the queue to learn are Pirates of the Caribbean, Lord of the Rings, Willy Wonka, Lara's Theme, and of course Bohemian Rhapsody.
I'm going to try to be really disciplined about going out most afternoons! There are always shoppers on Princes St., it's just a matter of weeding out the non-teenagers.
Now, a quick personal update:
Things are really good now! I've been here two weeks tonight, and I'm finally feeling like I've beat the initial homesickness and culture shock. I've had a few eye-opening moments reminding me that I'm actually IN the UK right now, so I have to get out and take advantage of every day!
I moved into an awesome apartment with awesome roommates. It's in a nice neighborhood Southeast of downtown, right by the park. There are lots of shops and restaurants and people. My roommates are super artistic and musical: two are in a band (Kaiho, look it up on facebook!), one's in grad school for poetry, and I'm not sure exactly what the fourth is studying, but he's generally really artsy. Oh, and he does stand-up comedy. These guys have been instant friends, which is super helpful. I've also been hanging out with my friend Rob from England/Wellfleet, and my Spanish friend Nacho from the hostel I stayed at. I've met two new potential friends this week: a pedi-cab driver and a folk musician who knows where to go for casual participatory folk music nights.
I won't be busking a ton quite yet because it's cold, so I'm going to try to use this time to write, learn new songs, and be a tourist and explore Scotland.
Oh, one other thing, I'm loving my small accordion more than ever! I've been playing my roommate's 48-bass a bit, and it's just so heavy and hard to navigate! I won't be getting a new one anytime soon.
Till next time, lads and lasses!
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