Joni Mitchell is one of my favorite songwriters. My favorite song by her is about a street musician, and what runs through her mind as a successful and recognized performer, when she sees him playing on a humble street corner. I dedicate this wonderful song to all street musicians.
For Free
by Joni Mitchell
I slept last night in a good hotel
I went shopping today for jewels
The wind rushed around in the dirty town
And the children let out from the schools
I was standing on a noisy corner
Waiting for the walking green
Across the street he stood
And he played real good
On his clarinet, for free
Now me I play for fortunes
And those velvet curtain calls
I've got a black limousine
And two gentlemen
Escorting me to the halls
And I play if you have the money
Or if you're a friend to me
But the one man band
By the quick lunch stand
He was playing real good, for free
Nobody stopped to hear him
Though he played so sweet and high
They knew he had never
Been on their T.V.
So they passed his music by
I meant to go over and ask for a song
Maybe put on a harmony...
I heard his refrain
As the signal changed
He was playing real good, for free
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Listener Supported Busking
The exciting thing about busking is that you never know what's going to happen or who will show up to listen.
The other day I was just setting up in Rittenhouse Square Park and a news crew from CBS walked up to me and asked me if I would sing a song to Sandra Bullock. A sad love song, as she is having difficulty with her husband. Without thinking, I said, "Sure." As I tuned my guitar, I was thinking to myself, what on earth could I sing to Miss Blind Side. I started singing "Autumn Leaves."
...Since you went away, the days grow long,
and soon I'll hear, old winter's song.
But I'll miss you most of all, my darling,
When autumn leaves start to fall.
Anyway, they caught it all on camera, and I watched myself on a big screen tv with my wife while eating dinner at a neighborhood restaurant that night....
The next day I was playing in Suburban Station. All of a sudden a group of maybe twenty Hispanic high school kids arrived and stopped in front of me and smiled, nodding to the rhythm of the song. They were all very beautiful young people, shiny faces, some with braces on their teeth, well dressed, wholesome.... They seemed to enjoy the music. At the end of the song, I announced, "Ladies Choice." The young girls picked partners and they started dancing ballroom style to "Yesterday" by the Beatles. It was so sweet..... They were very generous with tipping, each person trying to out-do the other....
And today, Ellie stopped by. She's the one who sang with me months ago. She must be in her eighties. Loves the standards. I sang for her today. She stood in front of me and listened intently. Maybe ten songs. Mostly originals. She talked about each one, giving her commentary on the lyrics. I felt very touched by this. Like she needed to be there at that moment, and listen deeply.
Perhaps the highlight of the week was when my son Chris and his wife Alexis came and listened while I sang. They had traveled from Colorado to be here to celebrate their mom's birthday. They seemed to feel it was important to see and hear me doing my thing, busking, in my element. After seeing the Liberty Bell and other historic attractions, they spent part of their afternoon in Suburban Station sitting, listening, offering support as I sang. I felt honored to have them there to share with me what has become so important to me. Playing music. Sharing.
I need my listeners, as much as I hope they need me. I hope Sandra Bullock heard my song for her. Love hurts, and music soothes the pain. I saw teenagers dancing ballroom style in Suburban station to my music. Music celebrates raging hormones. And Ellie sang along as I played sweet love songs for her. Suspended in time, taking her back to a previous love perhaps, a romantic evening, a long lost lover....
I thank my listeners. I am grateful to those who stop by. I love the connection we have through music. Music brings us together. Music heals. Music helps us transcend...
...Since you went away, the days grow long,
and soon I'll hear, old winter's song.
But I'll miss you most of all, my darling,
When autumn leaves start to fall.
Anyway, they caught it all on camera, and I watched myself on a big screen tv with my wife while eating dinner at a neighborhood restaurant that night....
The next day I was playing in Suburban Station. All of a sudden a group of maybe twenty Hispanic high school kids arrived and stopped in front of me and smiled, nodding to the rhythm of the song. They were all very beautiful young people, shiny faces, some with braces on their teeth, well dressed, wholesome.... They seemed to enjoy the music. At the end of the song, I announced, "Ladies Choice." The young girls picked partners and they started dancing ballroom style to "Yesterday" by the Beatles. It was so sweet..... They were very generous with tipping, each person trying to out-do the other....
And today, Ellie stopped by. She's the one who sang with me months ago. She must be in her eighties. Loves the standards. I sang for her today. She stood in front of me and listened intently. Maybe ten songs. Mostly originals. She talked about each one, giving her commentary on the lyrics. I felt very touched by this. Like she needed to be there at that moment, and listen deeply.
Perhaps the highlight of the week was when my son Chris and his wife Alexis came and listened while I sang. They had traveled from Colorado to be here to celebrate their mom's birthday. They seemed to feel it was important to see and hear me doing my thing, busking, in my element. After seeing the Liberty Bell and other historic attractions, they spent part of their afternoon in Suburban Station sitting, listening, offering support as I sang. I felt honored to have them there to share with me what has become so important to me. Playing music. Sharing.
I need my listeners, as much as I hope they need me. I hope Sandra Bullock heard my song for her. Love hurts, and music soothes the pain. I saw teenagers dancing ballroom style in Suburban station to my music. Music celebrates raging hormones. And Ellie sang along as I played sweet love songs for her. Suspended in time, taking her back to a previous love perhaps, a romantic evening, a long lost lover....
I thank my listeners. I am grateful to those who stop by. I love the connection we have through music. Music brings us together. Music heals. Music helps us transcend...
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Celebrating Spring with Song
My wife Patricia and I used to play with our August Sky music in Rittenhouse Square. Back in 2001 tensions were beginning to build between street musicians and some less appreciative neighbors. With phone calls to the police, they would set in motion the machine to remove the vermin from the park. Just like the unwanted homeless, musicians were pariah. We were usually shut down and kicked out of the park. Eventually the battle came to a head in court, and musicians were allowed to play, but not allowed to open their guitar cases and take donations.
I figured I better check in with the policewoman on duty, just to let her know I was going to play and asked if that was cool. She was very nice. She showed me the rules on paper. She told me she loved musicians and live music. She said she wouldn't shut me down, and she'd turn her back, if I opened my guitar case for donations. The new rules say, you can only play for one hour. She said she would overlook that rule, too. It was a regular love fest.
Anyway, I set up on the same spot we played in nine years ago and played for three hours. It felt good to sing there again. Many people sat and listened. One young man lit some incense for me and stuck it next to my guitar case. Many people commented positively about the music and said they loved sitting and listening. I sang to the children passing by in strollers. Itsy, Bitsy Spider brings a smile every time.
Pat wrote a song for Philadelphia in the spring which appeared on our second cd, Flight. It's called Spring in Philadelphia, and it features jazz trumpter Faruq Dawud and jazz drummer Bob Fant.
Spring in Philadelphia
Spring in Philadelphia, blossoms in the air
I walked along the river, looking at the rowers
Wishing you were there
How can it compare
To any other city anywhere.
Every park and playground, is filled with happy noise
Lovers on their cell phones, puppies on their leashes
Laughing girls and boys
Funny little ladies, in funny little hats
Sneak a little smile at you
And hope you’ll smile back.
Daffodils and tulips, on museum lawns
Kids who hookied class, lying on the grass
Stifling their yawns
Spring in Philadelphia, makes your heart feel light
Buy some summer shoes, shirts in summer blues,
Anything that’s bright.
Keep an eye on robins, bent on some dissection
When you’re walking past, a wall that’s made of glass
Wink at your reflection
Sitting with your coffee, underneath a tree
There’s no way you can know, when you get up to go,
What miracles you’ll see.
Vendors selling flowers, pretty scarves and rings
Necklaces and watches, sandwiches and pretzels,
And a thousand things.
Unexpected joys, you’ll find on every street
Open up your eyes, be open to surprise
Life can be so sweet...
In the spring in Philadelphia.
So, Lovely Rittenhouse Neighbors, I'm back. Along with other musicians, classical violinists from the Curtis Institute, flautists, guitarists, singers, troubadours of joy. We're here to celebrate life with you. We will shower you with song and love to help the winter thaw....
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Visiting Angels
Lately I've been visited by angels. They do not have visible haloes and wings. They look like us, yet they appear out of nowhere and do good, bring peace, change our lives for the better in some small way and then disappear.
A bandmate of mine works for a agency called Visiting Angels that sends nurses out to people's homes. I've always thought that was a very cool name for a homecare agency. As my wife Patricia recovers at home from her broken hip, these visiting angels appear several times a week (lately braving harsh winter storms) to make her life a little better.
Yesterday an angel visited me while I was busking. I was playing a song, and out of the corner of my eye I noticed a young woman with long flowing brown hair and a peaceful smile, listening. At the end, I smiled and thanked her for listening. She gave me a donation and nodded. I wished her a good day, and she disappeared into the crowd. About two songs later, she reappeared in the crowd and approached a street person who was asking for money from the people sitting at Au Bon Pain eating their lunch. He wasn't having much luck with them. She touched his shoulder and asked what it was he needed. He asked for money, but she asked him if he was hungry. He nodded. She handed him one on the bags she was carrying. It had several large pretzels with mustard in it. The troubled look on his face melted and he smiled with his crinkly eyes. She then introduced her herself to him with her name. He seemed to be caught offguard, but he told her his name, too. She reached out to shake his hand, smiling, but he hesitated and said that she shouldn't shake his hand, as it was not clean. She touched his arm, then wished him a good day. As she passed by me, we exchanged smiles again and I wished her a good day.
What a gift to all of us. These angels.
My step-son died almost two years ago. I wrote this song to help with the healing. I sing it every day while busking.
Looking for Jonathan
I’d like to think that you’re still here
Beside me when I walk
I feel your breath upon my face
At the door, I hear your knock.
On these city streets, you’re everywhere
Your reflection’s in the glass
I think I hear your voice on the bus
Or in the car that drives on past
Your everywhere around me
Your spirit fills the air
Your peace and warmth surround me
Stay with me, everywhere….
The leaves above they spread apart
The sun comes shining through
And then I see your brilliant smile
And then I know it’s you.
They say that life is but a dream
And death is just as strange
Cuz neither one is real to me now
They both seem just the same.
Come sit with me, talk to me now
Come tell me how you feel
I feel your arms around my chest
I know you’re just as real.
There are angels among us. Bless them. They help us to take the edge off of the harshness of life...earthquakes, broken hips, winter storms, homelessness....
We just need to be ready to welcome them.
A bandmate of mine works for a agency called Visiting Angels that sends nurses out to people's homes. I've always thought that was a very cool name for a homecare agency. As my wife Patricia recovers at home from her broken hip, these visiting angels appear several times a week (lately braving harsh winter storms) to make her life a little better.
Yesterday an angel visited me while I was busking. I was playing a song, and out of the corner of my eye I noticed a young woman with long flowing brown hair and a peaceful smile, listening. At the end, I smiled and thanked her for listening. She gave me a donation and nodded. I wished her a good day, and she disappeared into the crowd. About two songs later, she reappeared in the crowd and approached a street person who was asking for money from the people sitting at Au Bon Pain eating their lunch. He wasn't having much luck with them. She touched his shoulder and asked what it was he needed. He asked for money, but she asked him if he was hungry. He nodded. She handed him one on the bags she was carrying. It had several large pretzels with mustard in it. The troubled look on his face melted and he smiled with his crinkly eyes. She then introduced her herself to him with her name. He seemed to be caught offguard, but he told her his name, too. She reached out to shake his hand, smiling, but he hesitated and said that she shouldn't shake his hand, as it was not clean. She touched his arm, then wished him a good day. As she passed by me, we exchanged smiles again and I wished her a good day.
What a gift to all of us. These angels.
My step-son died almost two years ago. I wrote this song to help with the healing. I sing it every day while busking.
Looking for Jonathan
I’d like to think that you’re still here
Beside me when I walk
I feel your breath upon my face
At the door, I hear your knock.
On these city streets, you’re everywhere
Your reflection’s in the glass
I think I hear your voice on the bus
Or in the car that drives on past
Your everywhere around me
Your spirit fills the air
Your peace and warmth surround me
Stay with me, everywhere….
The leaves above they spread apart
The sun comes shining through
And then I see your brilliant smile
And then I know it’s you.
They say that life is but a dream
And death is just as strange
Cuz neither one is real to me now
They both seem just the same.
Come sit with me, talk to me now
Come tell me how you feel
I feel your arms around my chest
I know you’re just as real.
There are angels among us. Bless them. They help us to take the edge off of the harshness of life...earthquakes, broken hips, winter storms, homelessness....
We just need to be ready to welcome them.
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