Musical claustrophobia

Working hard on a second set (not least because I’m soooo bored with the first set of thirteen songs: God, does it show? I hope not.) But not confident enough to float any of it yet.

So during a quick blast in Monmouth this afternoon I stuck to the old favourites, you know, Ain’t Misbehavin’, Blue Moon?  Actually, if you’re interested here’s the full list. I plan to run through them at the French Market in Ross-on-Wye tomorrow morning:

Sax in the heather

Dorothy’s Blues (own composition OC)

Fly Me To the Moon

Shadow of your Smile

Keep Young and Beautiful

Mayday (OC)

Soul Le Ciel

Effervescence (OC)

Blue Moon

Descent into D (OC)

Try a Little Tenderness

Warming the Street (OC)

As Time Goes By

Ain't Misbehavin'

So how did it go in Monmouth? Well I shared my spot with John who was having a spot of bother with the cider and the sun. And a nice lady who’s had some heroin damage. Maybe it put off the punters?

Don’t tell anyone but I only took a pound and that from our pal Elspeth who was up for the day.

Still the weather was good. And after a week of rehearsing in the claustrophobia of the cellar it was good to get out.

Pop up busker

Lunchtime busk at Dewsall’s pop up yurt (or is it a pop-up hotel, but real yurts?) Anyway, cool scene at Abergavenny Food Festival for my debut free, but booked, performance.

Ain’t Misbehavin’ seemed to go down best with the dogs and small children. Made two stabs at Sous Le Ciel de Paris, but gave up.

Speaking of which I dropped Charles Trenet’s La Mer because the backing was rubbish. And then there were these two young bloods busking away at it (reading from sheet music) in the town centre.

And I made some little promo cards – and left them at home. Never mind: I’ll do a stint for their morning coffee tomorrow (Sunday). Drop by if you’re passing.

Saturday lunchtime

Looking forward to busking at Abergavenny Food Festival this Saturday at the Dewsall yurt and pop up restaurant. 

It's in Horsington's Yard and promises to be a "sumptuous dining experience" - can you eat and blow at the same time?  Probably not.

Eyes closed

I was miserable after puncturing the LCD on my play-time (and blogger’s) laptop. Thought only tires punctured. Told myself off as I went to do my teaching stint at the College for the Blind, and later to talk to a group with macular degeneration. They were all cheerful enough – how dare I be miserable?

Malcolm, a busker from Three Cocks, playing in Ludlow last year. 

Got me thinking about blind street musicians and Davy’s (you don’t know him) researches into the biwa hoshi musicians or ‘blind priests’ who toured Japan in the 1200s; the blind minstrels of nineteenth-century Ukraine, known as the Kobzarsto persecuted under Russian rule (who wasn’t?); the famous Irish Turlough O’Carolan and the more recent Blind Lemon Jefferson. (Was Jefferson Airplane named after him? Or the spliff-holding device of the same name?)

Nothing wrong with Malcolm's sight (above). Sometimes, like him, I close my eyes when I’m playing, just to concentrate. Maybe I should wear dark glasses, but then I enjoy the eye contact especially with people's dogs. You feel they'd sit there and watch you all day if their owners would let them. 

Currently rehearsing for a busk at Abergavenny Food Fest. Wonder if I should dress up and look official?

Who's counting?

Took the train to Ludlow for a busk while Martin’s Antiques and Flea Market is on. (Bless him: he dropped a coin in the hat). Train turned out to be a sicky bus (Arriva were fixing the rails) from the Valleys who found his way on Satnav.

For heavens sake: he only had to ask the way. Alternatively Arriva could have booked a local coach driver.

Send me to India!

Travelled up with Max – him left outside All Saints, Hereford. We divied up the sites and he did front of house by the charity shop while I did The Passage. We both like The Passage because passers-by have to pass close by and are more likely to dip into their pockets.

Max is trying to raise the dosh to go to India with (or was it to join?) his girlfriend.

Saw him again today in Hereford.

-      How did you do Sunday? I ask.

His reply impressed me. 

Now I know you’re curious too. You want to know: how much did he earn? Thing is, you stand in one place long enough, playing good music and nice people drop 50p or a quid in your hat. Max did four hours. FOUR HOURS!

I’ve decided to stop counting the contents of the hat.

Like Dave said (previous blog): “Don’t think about the money. Think about the music.”