Wednesday 30 May 2012

May 30th, 2012

I was reminded yesterday of one of my favourite Montreal busking stories. It was mid April, I think I had gone down to the Place Des Arts Metro station to take a bit of a break from studying for finals or writing a paper or some such nonsense. I was about halfway through my rendition of Portishead's "Glorybox" when a woman joined in with what sounded to me like a kind of guttural beat boxing, it was unlike anything I've ever heard. Before leaving to catch her train, she explained that it was actually Inuit throat singing. Now don't that just beat all?

Sunday 27 May 2012

May 27th, 2012

Thought I'd try out a little new repertoire at the market yesterday evening, I'm worried that I'm starting to bore the merchants. I pulled off "Your Cheatin' Heart" with only a few bumps and blips, and received the best possible kind feedback. Two older women stopped to toss me a few coins, telling me that their mother, who worked for the CBC, loved Hank Williams and played his music on air all the time. That is about all the convincing I need to add that one to my permanent set list.

Saturday 19 May 2012

May 19th, 2012

I was payed a visit by my dear cousin K. on Granville Island today. She sat through my full half hour set in front of the Blue Parrot and shot a few short videos which I should be uploading shortly.
Earlier in the day, when I was playing next to the pizza place, an old man threw some jingle in my case and proclaimed (in a heavy Italian accent) "you are amazing! Standing here and doing this..." Y'know, sometimes on a Sunny Saturday, that's all a girl needs to hear.

Thursday 17 May 2012

May 17th, 2012

Today had a lot of potential as a busking day, sunny weather, but not so hot that I had to worry about sunburns or getting tired out too quickly. The streets were full of tourists, and I felt like my session had somehow been blessed by this old woman, who I've seen both on the island and downtown quite a few times, who I had given a toonie to in exchange for a purple pansy, which she carefully pinned into my bun, after hugging me and telling me she loves to hear me play.
This moment of whimsy was soon overshadowed by an incredibly tragic one. Just as I had snagged my favourite spot (by the souvenir shop and the tour buses), and had begun to play Amy's "Valerie" (one I just added to my repertoire that I absolutely LOVE), when I was bombarded by the steaming feces of what I can only imagine must have been a very large bird, or a small one with a huge appetite. I tried to wipe myself off and keep playing, but the stench and general crustiness were too much to handle. I solely packed up my things, and headed for home and a shower.
On the bright side (haha), the weather forecast looks good for tomorrow, I'll be in Gastown in the earlier part of the day, and then on Granville Island for dinner hour, if all goes well. I'll bring a few Wet Ones just in case.

Wednesday 16 May 2012

May 16th, 2012

Sunny afternoon of music in Gastown, had to abandon my favourite spot outside the souvenir shop, just a couple feet away from where all the tour busses stop, because the bench in front of it was being pressure washed. Didn't mind too much though, that bench was getting a little inhospitable what with all the pigeon poop and all, and I want my audience to have a relatively clean space to sit and listen.
A young punky character sat and had his lunch break in front of me. I thought I'd get him with one of my newer tunes, maybe the "Seven Nation Army" component of my Am, G, F, E7 medley (also includes "Fogtown" and "Hit the Road Jack"), or maybe "Pumped Up Kicks"? Which tune finally got his fingers snapping? None other than "King of the Road", an old campfire favourite of my mom's. "I like your version a lot better," he said before leaving, and I even sensed the hint of a smile behind his dark glasses.
This just goes to show that sometimes there is something to be said for playing the songs you want to be playing, rather than trying to guess at which songs will please your audience. You never know which one will strike a chord with someone (terrible, I know).

Friday 11 May 2012

May 11th, 2012

Played a wonderful set on the island yesterday at the Plaza between the market and the Net Loft. I was payed a surprise visit by my good friend A. and her three young kids who are absolute treasures. What could be better than a sunny set by the sea? One that's accompanied by three sticky-fingered, facepainted backup dancers of course!

Thursday 10 May 2012

May 9th, 2012

Double header today, first Gastown, then Granville Island. Found myself feeling a little bit like I was on a family vacation as I watched little kids spend all their allowance money on treasures their parents dismissed as junk at the two souvenir shops I was playing between.
Later when I was playing right by the Old Spaghetti Factory, I was the one bringing back memories. An old man gave me a handful of change with a wink that might almost have been creepy and not cute if I hadn't overheard him say "you used to have a ukulele just like that, remember?" as he put his arm around his wife's waist, and they walked off towards the big steam clock.

Tuesday 8 May 2012

May 8th, 2012

Yesterday was another Granville Island day, good business around dinner hour, lots of donations from the (much) younger set. Cockles of my heart particularly warmed by a little girl who came over to give me some coins as I was packing up in front of Petit Ami Café and said "thank you for the music!" Kids often give me money from their parents, but I find they're usually a little nervous and confused about the whole thing, so this was an adorable rarity.
The old man running the gourmet popcorn stand a few tables away from where I was playing told me I have "a great sound", and that he especially loved "Jolene". "I didn't recognize some of the other stuff, but Jolene was great."
My biggest Vancouver busking challenge so far? Remembering to say "thank you" instead of "merci" when people lend their support (both monetary and verbal).

Monday 7 May 2012

May 7th, 2012

Spent the afternoon playing just outside the Oakridge Canada Line station yesterday afternoon with my good friend N. who also sings and plays the guitar. It was the first real T-shirt day I've had since being back in Vancouver and I was happy to spend it doing what I love best.
I've recently injured my knee so we decided to be a little rebellious and sit on a bench that we've been ousted from by the transit cops before (it's Oakridge's property, not Translink's), figuring we'd pull the disabled card if anyone gave us a hard time.
When two green polar fleece-wearing transit reps showed up we were certain we'd have to relocate to a less hospitable venue, but much to our surprise they instead stood and listened to us for a solid half hour. They were both fairly young and enjoyed our adapted versions of current top forty hits like Soulja Boy's "Turn My Swag On" and Mr. Bieber's "Baby". Their favourite, however, was our cover of the Black Keys' "Little Black Submarines", played earnestly and without a shred of the smouldering irony that most of our modern day covers are rife with.
Before going back into the station proper they told us that it was their best day of work ever and asked us to get licensed with TransLink to play inside so that they could hear us all the time. The young woman gave us a dollar, apologizing that she didn't have more, and the man gave us the card for his photography business, promising us that if we ever needed portraits he'd do 'em for free.

Saturday 5 May 2012

May 5th, 2012

Spent a few hours in the Granville Island Public Market yesterday, took a while to get used to singing over all the noise, different accoustics than the metro station. As I was about to leave my spot next to the Terra Breads, the banjo player who had booked the spot after me asked me to play a tune. I went with "Fogtown", and he joined in on the last verse and chorus, very fun, and very generous of him to let me take up a few minutes of his precious half-hour time slot.

Friday 4 May 2012

May 4th, 2012

Went down to the Vancouver Engineering Building yesterday to register for my city busking permit. Met a fiddler named Timothy who has recently moved here from Alberta, but by the sounds of it he has lived just about everywhere there is to live in Canada. We talked for a bit about the ups and downs of busking in Montreal (ups: permit-free zones in the metro, downs: territorial old-timers), and the joys of busking in general. The man behind the counter was fairly easygoing, the only part of the contract he really emphasized was that we were not to play within thirty-three metres of the steam clock in Gastown. "Tourists hear about it, y'know, and they're standing there waiting to hear it sing or whatever, and if there's a busker there it really interrupts the experience."
When I asked if there were any set locations we were or were not meant to play he replied "Nope, nobody owns the street out there, it's yours for the taking."

That it is.