I don't know if everyone feels this way, or whether it's just me, but there is something particularly irksome about the vast majority of streetcorner buskers. I have a very modest amount of musical talent myself (which would probably be helped along if I practiced, but I mostly can't be bothered), and can recognize a talented musician when I hear one.
Hence, most buskers drive me nuts. They're not talented. They can play an instrument, but they don't know what to do with it to give it that special quality and head-snapping, double-take-inducing sound that I really love from musicians. Not only that, but a lot of them sit there sullenly looking like they don't really want to be there. They have no notion of performance. I would be one of these. This is why I haven't taken to singing on streetcorners. I'm good, but I can't connect with people just walking by that way. I have busked once, with hand bells, but that's a novelty that'll get anyone talking (seriously, where have you EVER seen a handbell group on a street corner busking?). But I digress
York is a haven for buskers. On the odd day you can walk by and count 8-10 acts in the city centre alone. Usually they're crap. There's the guy who plays the fiddle with the devil puppet on his knee... the dude who plays the harmonica and makes his dog bark along... the university students that aren't music students but just want some extra cash... The guy who plays nothing but the Beatles... I don't know if he counts as a busker, but the guy who's painted himself entirely purple and looks all windblown is there nearly every day in Stonegate... Oh, look what you can find when you search Flikr!
Today, as I walked through town, there was a kid with a trumpet and his ...[older brother?]... playing the keyboard to accompany him.
I went into Borders to purchase some fun fiction (Love in the Time of Cholera, in case you're interested, is what I walked out with), and emerged to the sound of trumpet. I thought it was the kid again. But, no, my musical spidey-senses were tingling. It wasn't just the sound of one trumpet, it was the sound of several brass instruments. I turned the corner past Betty's, and voilà! - three young men (about my age, and not too shabby-looking either, I must say, and there's something extremely hot about a guy with musical talent... but I digress again) were standing outside Betty's playing. And not just playing - playing well! There were dynamics, subtleties, nuances, emotions... So I sat and listened. Not only were they good musicians, but they also played the crowd quite well.
I know they'll never read this blog, but, hey, if ya do, know I really rather enjoyed myself and wish I could have heard more.
I Am Reading
Baudolino, by Umberto Eco
Hence, most buskers drive me nuts. They're not talented. They can play an instrument, but they don't know what to do with it to give it that special quality and head-snapping, double-take-inducing sound that I really love from musicians. Not only that, but a lot of them sit there sullenly looking like they don't really want to be there. They have no notion of performance. I would be one of these. This is why I haven't taken to singing on streetcorners. I'm good, but I can't connect with people just walking by that way. I have busked once, with hand bells, but that's a novelty that'll get anyone talking (seriously, where have you EVER seen a handbell group on a street corner busking?). But I digress
York is a haven for buskers. On the odd day you can walk by and count 8-10 acts in the city centre alone. Usually they're crap. There's the guy who plays the fiddle with the devil puppet on his knee... the dude who plays the harmonica and makes his dog bark along... the university students that aren't music students but just want some extra cash... The guy who plays nothing but the Beatles... I don't know if he counts as a busker, but the guy who's painted himself entirely purple and looks all windblown is there nearly every day in Stonegate... Oh, look what you can find when you search Flikr!
Today, as I walked through town, there was a kid with a trumpet and his ...[older brother?]... playing the keyboard to accompany him.
I went into Borders to purchase some fun fiction (Love in the Time of Cholera, in case you're interested, is what I walked out with), and emerged to the sound of trumpet. I thought it was the kid again. But, no, my musical spidey-senses were tingling. It wasn't just the sound of one trumpet, it was the sound of several brass instruments. I turned the corner past Betty's, and voilà! - three young men (about my age, and not too shabby-looking either, I must say, and there's something extremely hot about a guy with musical talent... but I digress again) were standing outside Betty's playing. And not just playing - playing well! There were dynamics, subtleties, nuances, emotions... So I sat and listened. Not only were they good musicians, but they also played the crowd quite well.
I know they'll never read this blog, but, hey, if ya do, know I really rather enjoyed myself and wish I could have heard more.
I Am Reading
Baudolino, by Umberto Eco
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How fun. (And just so you know, I've played handbells on the street, too, during the holidays several years ago!)
It's always nice to hear talented people play. Someone at work asked me if I wanted to play guitar at an upcoming event-thing, but I declined. I've not played in a while because I had to quit playing. I was getting callouses that made it difficult to start IVs, which I do daily at work... So I took a job that would give me more time to play my guitar, excpet I can't because playing it makes it harder for me to work.
Bleh.
PS: IF there's a zombie movie involved, you simply MUST MUST MUST go. Zombies make my favorite scary movies.