"You're Putting Off the Lassie, George!"

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