WTF?

So.....

Any of my busking peeps out there know of a new ordinance that supposedly prevents musicians from performing on subway platforms? My buddy Dave and I were approached by some officers while busking the other day, and were informed that we were in violation of this new ordinance. They were cool about it. But it strikes me as bogus considering the court rulings on busking in the past, not to mention

THE FIRST AMENDMENT.

It's been a bad week for busking. I went out with Dave and DK earlier this week to play and we got pounced on by some rookie cops who first declared music peformance in subway stations to be illegal (which is obviously incorrect, as any garden-variety squirrel could attest), before finall ticketing us for the only offense they could think of, "blocking pedestrian traffic." You'd have to see where we were playing to form your own opinion. But suffice it to say that only the world's thickest numbskull could interpret is as "blocking" anything.

We're of course contesting the whole thing. Updates to follow.

The new "platform ordinance" is what annoys me more than a $50 fine. If it is indeed real, it's probably only a matter of time until it's overturned in court.

I've been playing in subways for three years now, and have been asked to leave five times ever, TWO of those in the last week! To quote one of the officers who fined us earlier this week, "It's at the discretion of the officer." In other words, it's NOT illegal, because if it was, an officer of good moral standing would ALWAYS ticket the offending busker. I've been overlooked, passed, and given good blessings by more NYPD transit officers than I can count.

Anyone else see a hole in the Transit Authority's logic here?

other pursuits

So, it's been a while since an update (again), but I swear it's for good reasons. Firstly, I've been worried that that fatal copper-ray disease (from looking at computers too much) that Willem Defoe's character comes down with in Speed 2: Cruise Control might be real -- and I don't look good with leeches, people.

Secondly, I've been starting up a band with some friends of mine. Not the Flagellants. There might be one or two more singles from them, though ;);)

So yeah, a band. Sorry, I'm still reeling from those winky faces, I can't believe I wrote those. Yeah, we have a band. Electric Warlords. Well, not really, more like Acoustic Amateurs, but we ahve high hopes. That's all a band ever needed, or so I thought I'd been told but probably haven't been.

It's actually working out really well though. My good buddy DK is a phenomenal guitarist and songwriter, and his buddy (and mine now too), Dave, plays the keys like he came out of the womb on a glissando. We've been recently supported by the bass master (not the fishing game) Jeff, lord of the Thumper. I call his bass the Thumper. He doesn't know this and I haven't told anyone else either. We also might have an awesome dual pianos thing going with their friend, Eric, whose solos have left craters in my thought process.

Now we need a drummer. Of course. Everyone needs a drummer. DK says we should get a percussionist instead, but I don't know what that means. Except that they play less-traditional things than drum kits, I suppose.

Also, a band name. We're all super inspired by the Band (well, I think everyone is, anyway), and their name is no different from their music: perfect. (Let's ignore the fact that they didn't want to be called that, and didn't even come UP with the name). Something simple, evocative of the music, not pretentious, and not taken already. Yeesh. Come on, I just solved perpetual motion here, people. Don't give me another toughie.

Gigs and other news to follow shortly, if all works out well.

Rob and DK live at Wolf & Lamb!

It's been a bit since my last post because I've been juggling a new job and working out some details for my first live gig in a while. My buddy DK and I are playing a "bluegrass" (really folk, but management couldn't be convinced otherwise) gig at Wolf & Lamb Steakhouse, tomorrow 2/18 from 7-9. Please come out if you can. Their food is amazing. Our songs will probably be okay too, but don't taste as good.

Wolf & Lamb Steakhouse
8 E. 48th Street (between 5th and Madison)
tomorrow, Wednesday February 18, 7-9
no cover (but you gotta sit at a table and thus, eat)

Meanwhile, this song is plaguing my existence. In the very best of plaguey ways.

felix felicis

Yesterday: got a job, booked a music gig, and had an awesome busking experience wherein I met a kindred busking soul.

I've been looking for jobs for nigh on two months, after being, quite frankly, given the runaround by my former employer, Apple. Unemployment came to the rescue (for the first time....I'm cautious about things that could be mistaken as "freeloader" activities), and I've been busking on the side to get some extra green stamps though it's been too cold to do it often.

After weeks of polite harassment, the Chess Shop in the village hired me yesterday at a rather low salary, but heck man, it's chess! I love chess. And just by virtue of working there I'm gonna become a chess superbrain, right? I'm pretty sure that's how it works. Plus, it's going to be a job that's fairly easy and entirely enjoyable. Me don't do restaurants. Anything resembling soul-selling kinda turns me off.

I auditioned for a performance gig at my girlfriend's restaurant two days ago, and found out yesterday that I booked it! Yes, Rob, there is a Dollar Claus. He just likes to ignore you for months at a time. I'm not sure if this place (a Kosher steakhouse) will exactly "get" my amateurish spin on american folk music, but why not give it a shot? I mean, I LOVE pickles.

As the final move in a day filled with luck, I decided to go busking, presuming my good luck would pay off in spades and I'd make a king's ransom in singles. Instead, I couldn't find an available station anywhere between 145th and 23rd streets. Yoink. I started heading back uptown, resigned to make tea and play video games for the duration of the eve, when I saw a guy playing Dylan songs at 42nd Street. He was around my age, clearly had enthusiasm for the material, and....I dunno. I was feeling ballsy. So, after first going to 59th (no dice), I came back to 42nd and asked him if he'd mind me accompanying him for a little while. He replied that his night was almost over, but he'd give it a shot.

He started up "Blowin in the Wind" and I played along with my mandolin and harmonica, flubbing a little here and there on solos (par for the course). He asked if I knew "Suzanne" ("sort of" was may response), and we went through that and then "SO Long, Maryanne" as per request. Honestly, it was a blast. This is what busking's supposed to be like! Chance meetings. Music no matter what! Woody Guthrie woulda been proud. I think.

Anyway, at some point I introduced myself to Jeff, and him to me. A few songs later he peaced out, but we agreed to meet up again soon and play. It was instant gelling, no denial. I was glad I hadn't wussed out and kept my lip buttoned when I first saw him.

I stuck around for a while and played solo. There were some really nice people who told me I wasn't far from being on American Idol (do they have folk episodes of that? if so, I'd do it), and got an Eric Clapton request. Wish I knew some.

I made pretty good money for only playing around an hour, and I have to say that I musta drank some luckjuice yesterday because I haven't had a day that serendipitous in a long time.

rubbing one out

I put off busking all day for mini projects, both real and necessary, and imaginary and a waste of time. Planning which variety of tea I'll drink next? Yep, I definitely spent a few minutes on that. Restringing mandolin after not changing them since October (purchase date of mandolin)? Slightly more necessary. But 8 strings doesn't equal 8 times the restringing fun. It equals 45 minutes.

Around 1 am on my way home I decided to step off the train and busk. Luckily, my mandolin found its way into my hand (busking with my skin flute has become increasingly difficult in the cold). However, no one found their way into my station, so I hopped back on a train one and a half songs later.

It was good, though. I was feeling musically pent up, and it was good to sonically ejaculate all over the Museum of Natural History murals in the 81st Street subway station, then dart back into the night cackling and counting my zero dollars.

I'm again struck by the fact that I wasn't invited to my five-year high school reunion. I mean, do these people READ THIS BLOG?!

Erroneous Rock

This is a random post no matter how you look at it, but it's especially random when you consider that I haven't updated this site since June of 2008, and then only to write an ode to Weezer/my dog.

I was away in CT for a few months this fall doing theater and writing a bunch, and I've busked from time to time since then but haven't felt the need to blog about any of it. A feeling of same old, same old kept me away I guess.

But no more!

Here's a new song that's a collaboration between my buddy Jeb Heil and myself. He wrote the lyrics, I wrote the music (earlier tonight, actually). It's a little haphazard and a lot ugly, but I've been wanting to make something careening and unsightly. My part was written in about fifteen minutes, so I'm not gonna judge it too much.



butterflies, butterflies
beautiful butterflies
chocolate covered and bite sized
a pound of them is the grand prize

skinny men and fat women
walk around holding hands
do they love each other?
well i guess they do, but don't we all?

oh i guess we don't (x4)

advertise, advertise
subliminal advertise
sell you looney tunes neckties
hold back my desire to modernize

shit water, piss water
we'll put through this machine
and we'll drink it
will it make us sick?
well i guess it will, but aren't we all?

oh i guess we are (x4)