#busking problems

[travelswithbrindle]

Poptimism in the time of crisis

After the bad news of 8 November, I decided to change up my busking set a bit. I had a strong craving to play songs by 80s punk bands like The Clash and the Talking Heads, and performing the pop hits that were my bread and butter seemed wrong when we’re so close to the end of the world. The more I thought about this, though, the more I wanted to push back against it.

If you’re reading this, you don’t need me to tell you about how punk used surrealism and Marshall stacks to rebel against the totalitarian forces ruling England in the ‘70s and the States in the ‘80s. You probably don’t need me to draw parallels between the actor who served as President at the time punk was in its ascendancy and the Orange Nightmare who’s about to take over the White House. On a personal level, punk and new wave scored my childhood and coming-of-age. My parents listened to WBCN--the radio station the broke both the Clash and the Talking Heads--in the morning before school and in the car. I was dimly aware of nuclear annihilation and the unrest going on throughout the country, and as I got older and started to understand what was happening in the world those albums put the bad times of the ‘80s into greater perspective. As a teenager, I found solace in the music of Husker Du and the Minutemen while I looked for my people and dealt with an unstable home situation. I associate punk with revolution on a personal and political level, is the tl;dr of it.

I had a hard time playing some of the songs in my set after 11/8 because they were so closely associated with the election, like “Roar” and “Fight Song”. A few of the others, like the Taylor Swift medley I had been playing, just felt too happy for our moment in history. As I excised songs from my set, though, I realized that I was replacing many of my tunes with deep-and-meaningful Political Songs by White Men with electric guitars, and I started to wonder if I had lost something by taking out so many songs by women.

I believe that pop music can be a force for political good, but many of the pop albums I’ve loved this year are by Black women. “Hold Up” and “Cranes in the Sky” are better appreciated from a distance than performed by a middle-aged woman with a complexion the color of skim milk. On the other hand, can making someone happy and helping them escape from a painful reality--if only temporarily--also be a political act? I keep thinking of the last lines from Sullivan’s Travels: "There's a lot to be said for making people laugh. Did you know that that's all some people have? It isn't much, but it's better than nothing in this cockeyed caravan.”

I’m trying to find a balance within all this. I know I’m overthinking it, and I want to balance what’s right for me as an arteest with what my audience would enjoy.

[travelswithbrindle]

MBTourA: I got my $2 at Davis

I’m having a hell of a day over here. My sinus infection from a few weeks ago is sucking my will to live; I blocked a relative on texts earlier today; and on my way to the pitch I was harassed by an obnoxious teenager who followed me from CVS to the T station because I bumped her and didn’t apologize.

I had high hopes for Davis, since the station gets a lot of traffic and is nestled in the center of an artsy square. Many of my busking friends have had great luck here, and when I saw that the pitch was free I couldn’t wait to see if I would fare similarly. Unfortunately, the pitch was empty for a reason: this time of day is slow, and the traffic flows away from the pitch.

Adding to my problems, I was unable to plug in today because my granny cart couldn’t accommodate my amp, mic, and mic stand. The high ceilings should have worked in my favor, but the fans dampened my sound and the noise of the train swallowed me up. I had a hard time projecting my voice because my sinuses hate me. The elderly couple who got into an argument about dinner in front of my pitch didn’t help. One man in a Hawaiian shirt cupped his hands around his ears as he passed me, so I sang loud and he left a dollar in my hat. As my hour was coming to an end, Gentleman Caller passed me and left me another dollar, which I can’t help but regard as a pity single.

I didn’t see my set as a total failure because I got to incorporate a new song (“Closer” by the Chainsmokers and Halsey) and I ran through my October Surprise set in preparation for a rehearsal with our new drummer. I think if I could go in when I feel a little better and play a set in the morning, I’ll be in better shape. I drank some miso soup and green tea, and I’m looking forward to getting back out there.

[travelswithbrindle]

MBTourA: For love not money at Haymarket

One of the most humbling aspects of busking is also one of the most important things for any performer to learn: you are not entitled to an audience. Singing my heart out and playing well for an indifferent audience, or not making tips after a vigorous set, are facts of life for a busker. You can reflect on your performance and try to figure out how to improve; you can look at the time of day and the placement of your pitch to understand why people haven’t engaged with you; or you can blame others for “not getting it”. I do two out of these three things.

The Haymarket pitch had many of he things I love about MBTA pitches, like low ceilings for natural reverb and a central-seeming location. Unfortunately, the pitch was bracketed by two brick pylons that blocked my hat from view and limited my ability to engage with the audience. The T already limits buskers’ ability to engage with straphangers for understandable reasons, so I felt a little restrained and frustrated. (The pitch was also filthy; as I was playing I watched a mouse skitter past me across the mezzanine.)

Apart from a few vocal falters, I think I sounded okay. Brindle and I were in tune and I was able to hit some of the troublesome high notes in “Let’s Go”. I was playing for a fairly diverse crowd, and I do wonder if my song choices failed to connect with the audience.

I ended up not playing my typical busking set, either in length or in content. The T is working on the tracks out here, which means there’s a five-minute wait between trains at rush hour. (Usually passengers wait 2-3 minutes between trains.) Instead, I would have an open rehearsal, playing songs from the October Surprise set while waiting for the next train to pull into the station. The timing, combined with the location of the pitch, added to my inability to connect.

(As a side note, when I write about difficult locations or timing, please don’t think that I’m complaining. The MBTA is not in the entertainment business, and they place a priority on accessibility and safety. I want to figure out how to get past the less-than-ideal aspects of a pitch and learn how to interact with audiences while abiding by the T’s rules.)

The station also felt sweltering, and as I’ve said a billion and five times here, humidity contributes to my migraines. When I saw the blank faces of the passengers and noted my lack of tips, I decided to cut my losses after an hour and rustle up some brekkie. I have a rehearsal with my cellist tonight for the October Surprise, and I’m glad I was able to run through one of the more challenging songs to prepare.

I’m trying not to feel entitled to tips right now, but I also have some minor concerns. I booked a show at Porchfest in a month, and while I have an amp (HOORAY), I still need a mic and a stand. My current job ends on 8 September and I can’t justify paying for a mic or a stand out of my paycheck. I’m trying to tell myself that I can borrow one from another Porchfest act, and that’s the only thing keeping me from behaving like a whiny child. I’m going to busk at the other Haymarket pitch tomorrow night, and that one has to go better. Right?

[travelswithbrindle]

MBTourA: Long story short at Prudential

I wrote half of a long post about my less-than-ideal busking shift at Prudential today, and then Tumblr ate it. I'm still annoyed at how my shift went, so here's the TLDR account. I set up in the area the T designated for a busking pitch, but the attendant moved me out of that area. He wouldn't look at the paperwork the T sent me with the list of pitches; nor would he look at the T's website. When I moved to a spot I thought he suggested, he shooed me out of that one and allowed me to busk in an out-of-the-way spot by the elevators. His refusal to listen to me, combined with his condescending attitude and his unusual priorities (this happened at a Green Line station on game night) put a damper on my fun. I can see his point, to an extent. I support the standards the T upholds for buskers. The First Amendment protects our right to busk, but we also have a responsibility to our fellow straphangers' health and safety. That said, his condescending attitude towards me and his unwillingness to listen to me was inappropriate. The sound at Prudential was really good, with the high ceilings giving me some natural reverb. I am proud of my singing tonight, though my playing wasn't quite as good as it has been. I played some new material and took a risk with some fingerpicking, and even though it wasn't perfect I'll get there. I'm starting a new temp job tomorrow. The hours are a little more flexible and the location more central, but it might take me a day or two to get back out there.

[travelswithbrindle]

MBTourA: one hour, two sore wrists, and $3 at Arlington

If I've learned anything from the past two days of busking, it's that you really have to love what you're doing to do it at all. There will be days no one pays attention to you, when you won't get a smile and a nod--never mind a dollar--out of passers-by, when you can't quite hear yourself over the train or the fans, and when you go home with little money and sore wrists. I chose to busk at Arlington today for a few reasons: the station isn't quite outdoors, but is just open enough that playing here in the winter would be a challenge; and the station was close enough to some tourist attractions to make this a worthwhile experience. I had failed to take into account the rainy weather we had gotten today. Most of the tourist attractions in the Arlington Street area--like Newbury Street and the Public Garden--involved some going outside. Oh well, I thought to myself, it's a centrally located station, and I'm likely to make some money. The MBTA's busking pitch for Arlington is located between the inbound and outbound platforms, near a few transit maps. I initially thought that the foot traffic would bring me into some contact with passengers. Unfortunately, the layout of the station kept me just far enough out of the flow of traffic that I didn't have a lot of contact with anyone. We were facing each other, sort of, but despite my best efforts of smiling, trying to make eye contact, and playing appropriate music, only a few people paid me any heed. Sometimes people consulting the maps would do a little head bob, which made up most of my contact with passengers. Two people left some money in my hat. A man in a red Phillies baseball cap placed two folded-over singles in my case, and an elderly woman with a cane followed suit with a crisp dollar bill. I think I sounded better today than I did last night. I was singing strongly and in tune (a fact I find surprising as I think about the cream in my coffee this morning) and my playing was good. I chose to play at the station on a day and at a time when they were experiencing low traffic, and the two fans on either side of me drowned me out a bit. Plus, the passengers didn't seem to be into my song choices. Unlike some of the other stations, I don't know what kind of music passengers at Arlington Street would enjoy. I don't feel discouraged by my lack of success today. I'm still enjoying myself, and I know that some days will be fast-paced and others will be more like an open rehearsal. That said. I will be returning to the site of my two most successful busking sessions to give myself a shot of confidence.