The Midget and The Cowboy

When I first came to this city last year, I could never hide my amazement and feeling that this city has so much to offer me.  On my first day, I tipped about 4 great buskers I had heard as I wondered through this sunlit city of smoke with a smile on my face, I felt the atmosphere and quietness welcome me.  My meeting point and H.Q is Rembrandtplein, like a mini stage, with seats all around and a water fall with a statue of Rembrandt not smiling, but disconcertingly observing the surroundings of his city.  This area has some noisy bars and coffee shops dotted around that show the football and rugby.  A place where Brits can go on holiday, but still feel they are in Britain.

You need amplification to busk there, but it is a goldmine that musicians can support themselves fully from.  Two of the buskers there, Vince and Euginio make a very good living selling ten or twenty CDs a day at 10 Uros a pop, as well as their donations which are a lot on good days, and even on bad they make more in one go than I do in a few hours at my bridge.  I have played there a few times, and at this moment, I feel ready to take a set to play there.  The physchology is different, you need to finish songs to give people the chance to applaud and donate.  I am so used to playing to passing traffic that I never finish a song, just medley it into the next one.  You don't play any longer than an hour, so as not to over do it.  The biggest drops come from when you announce it is your last song.  I play to passing traffic 2 or 3 hours at a time, but this has been perfect training for me to really expand and master my repatoire.  When I met a cellist and cajon player I had no fear whatsoever when playing with them, we hit Dam Square, Rembrandtplein, Central station and drew a crowd and great response wherever we played.  Instead of being just one guy with a guitar singing, it became a real street show that increased the money made massively (Though it worked out about the same after it was divided 3 ways).

I spend a lot of time just riding around Amsterdam, and Rembrandtplein is my sitting and meeting point.  One day this guy came up to me asking for money, and he had rats in his pocket and on his shoulder, he tried to creep me out by putting the red eyed rodent right next to me, but I wasn't scared and as I only had 5 cents in my pocket had nothing to give him except some of my bread to feed his rats.  As this was happening a busking duo were playing, the midget and the cowboy.  The midget is a blonde woman who looks beautifully viscous in her eyes.  The cowboy is a keyboard player who parks his bike with a keyboard stand and they play cabaret, and unintentional comedic versions of all the classics.  I was drinking my water, when the the music stopped.  Aldous (The cowboy) had stormed off and was talking on his phone for about ten minutes, looking agitated and angry, the midget always the proffesional kept on singing while keeping an eye on why the cowboy was AWOL.  She then reverted into an accapella version of 'Lord wont you buy me a mercedes benz'.  And was asking a completely despondent crowd to help her sing it.   Always the pro, the show must go on.  When they had started Aldous had turned his keyboard right up, and her vocals right down, all's you could hear was this distorted keyboard sound mechanically murdering 'A whiter shade of pale'.  They were here last year as well, and so I knew they had been doing this gig a while, still with the same songs and act.  But now I sensed there was trouble in the partnership.  She received some sympathy drops for her accapella rendition, and apologied for the 'Technical difficulties'.  I set out again and returned the next day.....

The midget was looking sad and waiting for a cowboy that didn't look like he was gonna show.  I started speaking to her and asked her about yesterday, she said it was just some 'technical difficulties' and all is good.  Though I doubted her, as her eyes knew that this could be the end of their partnership.  I set out myself for some bridge busking and when I returned a few hours later, I seen the cowboy sitting with this American duo of guitar and vocals (who are lame and cheese all over, and irritate the fuck out of me) practising together while Vince was busking.  It was getting late and I figured they were now going to play together, as night time came they set up to play together and it was a very sad amateur music display full of wrong notes, and neither knowing where the changes were happening.  As they played and murdered 'Everything in it's right place' I wondered if this was the end of the Midget and the Cowboy.  They were always there at Rembrandtplein, last year and this year, and now I never see them.  Yesterday I was waking through Central and as I turned around to look, I noticed a bike taxi driver that used to be the cowboy.  I wonder what has happened to the midget, I think busking was how they supported themselves and now they are no more, I wonder how she is doing......

A heatwave hit us on Monday, and there was not a cloud in the sky!  Amsterdam is golden in the sun, the canals sparkle, the colours of the buildings glow, the scenery can really melt your heart in the heat.  I was expecting it to be a good busking weather and looked forward to starting my busking shift at my bridge.  I was in a good musical mindset and confidently set up to play at my bridge.  I had not a penny to my name and was hoping to make enough to buy some water in the first round.  I played, and was in great form, my voice had a gravelly crackle as I sung my heart out and really expected to do quite well.  The sun was shining, and in an hour I made nothing.  I couldn't understand it!  All the ingredients were perfect, but not one centime came into my hat.  By this point I was so thirsty and found an empty bottle on the floor, it stunk of old socks, so I ducked into a coffee shop and filled it with water then set out again.  I started playing and in the first 40 minutes earned a slow 4 euroes.  At least it was enough for some bananas and water and chocolate.  I carried on playing for another hour and a bit, and earned nothing during that time.  Disheartened I rode around trying to find a different spot, but not feeling any.  I went back and played for ten minutes, then thought 'fuck it I am going home'.  Bart was leaving for Italy the next day, and I really wanted to get us some beers in, alls I could manage was 2 cans of warm Grolsch!

This was only a few days after playing and earning so great with the Cellist, so I was determined to find some musicians to busk with.  I found a muso list of Amsterdam and there was a band on there looking for a singer, I couldn't resist getting in touch, and I went down to the musicians hang out the day after to rehearse with them.  It was a pure and intense musical jam that made me realise how great being in a band is.  In Liverpool I became quite disheartened with the band scene there.  A thankless task to play a gig to your mates, with a shifty promoter not even giving you a few drinks.  But jamming with this band, made me remember why it is worth it.  When 6 people are all putting their musical energy into one big sound, it is magical and at the end your body aches with joy of expression.  It made me really happy to find this band, and I wouldn't have found it unless I had of done so poorly at the previous days busking.  For everything a reason hey.  And finding the muziekplatz where all the bands of Amsterdam rehearse and drink and socialise, I felt at home!  Crash studios in Liverpool was where I could go and taste the music of Liverpool, and now I find Amsterdams Crash.  It is full of musicians and good people, and makes me think even more that I will be here for a while yet.......

I still felt I needed a new spot to busk, so the next day I went to Vondelpark, it is a glorious and beautifully green big park in the West of Amsterdam, the realisation set in, that when the sun shines this is where the people are.  Playing at a bridge next to a road on a glorious day is not the right setting, but this place was just perfect.  I set up at the entrance and in 20 minutes had earned five Euroes.  I then played 'Five Years' by Bowie and some woman came up and gave me 10 Euroes!  Yes!  I had found my new spot.  I gave my thanks to the tree I stood under and set out to meet my dear friend Audrey.  There was a massive vinyl market  at Niewe Markt that day, with mint condition bargains for a euro.  Like a musical pro, Audrey found 11 albums with a few Beatles, a Dylan some vital Idol, Rolling Stones, The Who and paid only 40 Euroes for the lot.  They feel and look amazing, almost as beautiful as they will sound once we get that right vinyl player.........