Iamsterdam

What a crazy month it has been.  A rollercoaster of emotions and events that has left me sure of what I want to do for the future, and where I want to be.  So much has happened, that it is best to take it from the Magneet........

I never thought it was possible to live of cheese toasties, wine, beer and drugs for 6 weeks, but it was.  It comes at a massive cost to your body though, and I felt empty and tired.  I had no drive or energy to stay at the festival once the final weekend was over, and I was anxious to see if I had got this job in the French Alps.  I had borrowed a bike off Raymond and I left for the city to get online and check my email.  The sand had destroyed all my shoes, I was a stone lighter, and felt dirty all over.  I looked like a tramp, and many people commented on this.  I had been sleeping on a couch in the lounge, or outside underneath the stars for the last 6 weeks, and the city was a sharp change of scenery.  It was also howling with powerful wind and rain.  I had nowhere to sleep and just wanted to curl up and rest for a thousand years.  I logged on in the library and as soon as I seen my email, I knew I didn't get the job.  I was right, after going in there and giving them everything I had, they didn't want me.  I remember telling them that I know that if I don't get the job, it is because it is part of a greater plan that I may not fully understand, but accept.  I had to swallow and take my own advice, and know that however disappointed I was, it was because life has a different plan for me.  At the interview I was running on energy I didn't know I had, a 12 hour cramped bus ride from Amsterdam to London, should have shattered me.  But I walked for 4 hours trying to find a guitar shop, then went in to this interview full of energy and dtermination to spend my winter playing music in the alps.  They must have thought 'Who the fuck is this loon'?  My friend Bart made the perfect analysis that I was just like Spud from Trainspotting who goes to his interview on speed.  Haha, looking back he got that spot on.  Though I wasn't on speed, just determination that that job was mine.....

Feeling empty, tired, knowing I had nowhere to sleep, and then being told I didn't get a job I was so sure I was getting, hit me hard.  I felt fucking low man!  Cato, who has been so determined I should stay in Amsterdam was a lifeline I massively needed.  She has a garden, and I was able to sleep in the shed and rest a little.  She also did so much to lift my spirits and help me realise that Amsterdam wants me.  And over the next few weeks, my experiences in the city helped me realise that too.  It is like the city is alive, and she opens up to me in ways that make me feel like I am in the Truman Show or something.  A raincloud that rains over just one spot, or the church bells that play in key to the songs I sing on her bridges and more events that I will come to shortly.  The low feeling lasted for 12 days, and in that time I made a million plans, my head was all over the place, first I was going to Ireland, then to Berlin, then to Switzerland.  I just felt I wanted something but I didn't know what.  I was going to sell my recording gear, and my busking amp and get a ticket to somewhere.  Those 12 days were the most challenging I have ever felt.  I felt so alone, I felt I failed on my part to bring a bit of Liverpool to the Magneet, and ended up losing some friends over it.  The more I felt I wanted to leave, the more the city looked after me and helped me pick myself up....

I have felt like a true Amsterdamster since I have been here, and that is down to a few very kind, and special friends I have here.  Bart, who I mentioned a little has been a massive part of that.  Last year at the Magneet, I felt he was like a protective soul who was always going out of his way to help me.  Be it from doing my ditrty washing after weeks of camping in the sand, taking a big group of us to his or his brothers house close by to get a shower and feel human again.  Making sure we would get something to eat, and getting me a caravan to sleep in when it felt like my back had been broken.  He would run the Magneet bar with his shining bright colourful character (he has the best collection of bright shoes and pimps jackets that make my bright socks look grey!)  And during the shift, he would say to me 'Çolin!  Grab your guitar and get on top of the bar to play!' So I would, and then he would go round with his hat to collect some money for me, cos he knew I had nothing.  After a month at the Magneet, he 'adopted' me and I spent a few days at his house in the West.  Watching films on the projector with his girlfriend, all in our pyjamas eating popcorn and I had a much needed rest in a real bed.  I remember after a shift at the bar, we went to the teepee to play round the campfire, and someone had tried to grab my guitar and pretend to put it on the fire, and Bart screamed at them!  Hey, what the fuck ya doin man!  This is what I mean by protective soul.  But it's not as if he has to try to be this way.  He is just naturally.  As much as there are people in the world who go out of the way to hurt you, there are just as many Barts who will go out of their way to help you, because they are made of the good stuff in life.  He has his own business that translates into English as 'I'll Take Care' and he spends his time with kids who have behavour problems and ADHD, by helping them with their homework, taking them to football matches and theme parks, and being a good positive and helping influence in their life.  He is a proud Amsterdamster and his house has also been my home for a large part of my stay here this year.  I got in touch with him when I was arriving in Amsterdam this year, without me even having to ask, he gave me a set of keys, let me use his girlfriends bike, let me make my home in his spare room, and just opened his home to me and allowed me to really feel like an Amsterdamster.  He spends summers travelling around, going to lots of festivals and really enjoying life with his girlfriend and friends, so I had the place to myself for a large part, and I felt like I was living like a Prince. 

After sleeping in Cato's shed, I was able to stay at his for a few days again and just start recharging my batteries.  I felt so weak and unsure and empty.  I am usually an energetic, passionate and confident person, but I was the polar oppositte  for these 12 days.  I accepted it though, I know that extreme highs are followed by extreme lows, and this adventure has been filled with massive highs.  I had been out of the busking mode, and was trying to get myself back in the swing.  I left Barts one morning and went to the bridge in Vondel Park, I was playing 'Holes in The Souls'and I started crying as I was singing the words. (It got 3 drops immediately though) I always want to try and really feel the lyrics to the songs I sing, that is why my repatoire is purely selfish to the songs that I love and that have reached me with their message.

It may sound strange, but I feel the city is reflecting my moods and  feelings.  The weather was stormy, cold and cloudy and I really felt the season change.  In the 8 months I have spent here, I have never seen one bike accident, but during my low time over a few days I seen 3 crashes involving kids, a motorbike crash, and a few other ugly sites that seemed to reflect my mood.  I was starting to worry I was causing these crashes.  But my spirits were getting lifted bit by bit, Bart had given me a warm wooly jumper, a big coat and scarf and we recorded a video of me singing Dutch christmas songs.  Cato has also been helping massively and had taken me to an artists squat in the East for a jam night.  I met some great people there, and have got 2 gigs lined up through the contacts I made there.  I have also started building my own business as a mobile recording studio, and have 2 jobs lined up this week.  But for the last month, I have been busking and playing heavily......

I have always played at my favourite bridge, people would stop and ask me why I play there, as it is not a great spot.  But I always tell them that I like it here, I can see the moon go from once side of the canal to the other, and even though there are lots of cars that go past, it still has a relative quiet.  Plus, I like the fact that people see a busker where they don't expect it.  So they can say, I walked past this quiet street, and seen some guy singing his heart out on a bridge.  I was there again one night when I had an experience that made me realise it's time to upgrade to a better spot.....

I had just played for an hour of my upbeat songs, that always go down well.  When I had just started my minor set, and 6 drunken Checkelslovakians came up to me and cornered me, shouting this drunken bile aggresive language.  This big fat mongoloid looking one came to the side of me and I was trappped between them all.  My eyes changed and I screamed at them to get the fuck away you idiots, don't ruin the city, enjoy it!!!!  One of them stated taking his pants down to poo in my guitar case, while the fat one at the side had his hand in my coins. I pushed him out the way and said 'GET THE FUCK AWAY NOW!!!!' They started to leave, so I bent down to pick my money up and one of the fat Mongoloid ones stole my hat from my head, then ran off.  So I said, right.....I packed my guitar, grabbed my money and ran after them.  As I was approaching a bike taxi hit the one with my hat, so I got to him, ripped it off his head, and said.  You fuckwit, my girlfriend gave me that hat.  You sad pathetic waste of human flesh.  He started to walk after me, and I really lost it.  I screamed right in his face to get out of my sight you shit stain.  They backed off, cos I was really fucking angry. I went for a joint to calm down And felt it was the cities way of telling me I needed a new spot.  But I felt like the city helped me, with that taxi hitting the guy and all.  Just feel like this city is alive, and it wants me to stay here.

I thought OK, lets go back to the very first bridge I busked at, and maybe it will give me some clue to where to go next.  I stood there and thought, then decided to follow the lights, it took me all the way to Waterlooplein and I was engulfed by the quietness of the place.  Is it too quiet to play I thought?  And then right then, a rush of theatre goers and tourists started flooding by, I thought this is the perfect spot!  It looked like a stage after soundcheck, the quietness of the club, and the venue.  I went back the next day, and made 20 euroes in less than an hour, drew a crowd and felt I had found my new spot.  It was like the city was saying to me Çolin, I love the way you sing your heart out in my streets, it adds a beautiful tone to my air, but it is wasted here now.  You are getting much better, and I have a much better place for you.'  Those fat Checks had all been part of the plan to make me find this new spot and really become a full time street musician.

I am doing 3 or 4 sessions a day, and really understanding the different peak times of each spot I play.  Vondel Park bridge in the day, Waterlooplein early evening - Jointje - Then the tourist nectar of Leidseplein in the late evening.  I have been making between 30 and 60 Euroes a day, and have been able to buy myself all little bits I have needed, a couple of snazzy jackets from the second hand store, a pair of big leather boots, a new compass, got my guitar refurbished (I was breaking 3 strings a day) a water bottle, bought a few little presents for people, a speedomater and distance calculater for my bike, (infact I have pimped out my bike beautifully.)  He is called trigger (cos the bell is in he trigger position) and he is now painted a smooth black, with a gel seat cover, a saddlebag, and a few other little touches that make me proud to own my first pimped Dutch bike. (It is the bike I borrowed from Raymond, he let me keep it!)  I woke up one morning, and said 'I am gonna get a paid gig today'.......

I was busking the late spot at Waterlooplein, it was raining a little and I was shivering as I was playing.  But the drop rate for the people who walk past is so high.  I think 50/60 % of the people who walk past give a generous drop.  They just dont expect to see some guy singing his heart out under s street lamp with hardly anyone around.  I was so cold and decided to call it a night.  I went past this place that seemed to have live music coming from it.  So, I went down to investigate to see if I could play a gig there.  The lad stopped me at the door and said it was a private party, I said 'Oh I was just looking to get a gig'.  They said, OH, you a musician, come play for us!  I said sure bloody thing!  They were relentlessly giving me beers and cigarettes and I tuned up and sung my bloody heart out!  They loved it, they were saying how randomly crazy it was for someone to just come in from the streets and play like that.  They gave me lots of beer and love, and asked if they could book me for tomorrow night for a party.  I said of course!  You just make a donation to how much you wanna pay.  I went back the next night to play for this party (turns out it is a student fraternity house, with 3 floors and some of the elite of the higher schooling system all live there)  I made 50 euroes for playing 5 songs and they said I could crash there anytime.  I told them about my love for this city, that I have just been busking in the cold, to come in to this place and feel such warmth makes me truly blessed.

My local coffee shop is called Solo, on the Korte Konings Straat in Nieuwe Markt, I love it there.  Guys play dominos and backgammon as smoke fills the air, and music plays.  Sometimes songs come on that I think are like the soundtrack to my life.  There was this really melancholy instrumental one playing, and as the guys chatted in Dutch, playing dominos it felt like I was in a film.  I am well received there, and always get a handshake and a warm welcome.  After me and Cato had been busking we went in there for a smoke, a guy called Fonz De Bay started asking us if we would play in there.  I was fixing a string so Cato got the accordian out.  What followed was the most beautiful moment I have felt in the place.  People started joining in and trapping and freestyling, and people who were to shy to sing at the start, by the end were singing the heart out.  People came from outside just to sit in and listen.  I got my guitar out, and it was one of the most beautiful spntaneous jams I have ever had.  I have always wondered why there isnt more live music in coffee shops, as weed and music are a great combo, I felt I wanted to bring music to the coffee shops when I first arrived last year, and that night I did.  It was a beautiful experience and has really bonded me with the locals.  Eric, sat down with me a week later and we had this very strange chat.  It's like he knew everything about me and what I was going through.  I can't recount the conversation as it would sound just silly in text format.  But it felt like something from the Matrix that just made perfect sense to me.  I will just say that he said 'Once you decide to stay in the city, she opens up to you more and more quickly, as she truly is a magical city'.  I fully believe this..........

I suppose the moral of this long rambling story is that I am glad I didn't get the job in the alps, can you imagine me having to learn shit songs to play to drunken rich kids.  Nah, that aint the journey I am on.  I am on a different path, and that path is Amsterdam for the forseeable future.  I feel I have a role to play here, it's like the city wants me and is doing her best to make me stay.  I shall not fight it.  As I write this, I have a 3 gigs lined up over the next 2 weeks, 2 recording jobs, I am halfway through recording Cato's album with her (it's sounding fucking lekker) And I am in love with the most beautiful girl in the world (But that chapter is private, and just for she and I to write and enjoy)

The King of The Kups

I wrote this blog about 5 weeks into the Magneet festival.  I was angry, and felt let down and a little distant from the festival.  I am still going to post it though, because like songs, it's good to keep things in their emotional state, so you can look back and learn......

The King of The Kups

It has been more than a month since I went back to the Magneet terrain to start building the lounge with Ron and to get ready for a party I felt would be like no other.  Some of the fondest memories of my partying and traveling life came from this place last year and I was eager to meet up with all the old faces again, but this time bring a lot more of Liverpool to the place......

It has been an incredible experience yet again, but in many different ways.  The good times have come from bonding with Ron, and learning how a master really creates something special.  The parties we have had in the lounge and the people I have met.  But I have a completely different experience with the organisation.  Any entity that is run completely on a voluntary basis, brings with it a certain chaos that I felt has made what I have tried to bring to the festival a lot harder, and ruined relationships with the bands I have asked to come over and play...

The sun shines like a desert drain, the landscape is bare apart from the few tents and constructions that have been their since the keys to the dykes were handed over.  I arrive with Greg, a manic depressant who I met in Paris.  After pulling him around on Roller skates because he refused to sort himself a bike out, we see Ron just unpacking the lounge.  I tell Greg, that this place is a chance to prove yourself, if you work hard, and put your heart into it, it will be appreciated with the best party and atmosphere you could wish for. I made some good friends here last time, and since returning, they have helped me to really live and feel like an Amsterdamster.  His head wasn’t in the right place for Amsterdam though, or heavy physical labour, and he lasted a few hours before getting a ride straight back to France.  I was in the mood for getting stuck in though, and building something special with Ron....

Ron is one of those rare beautiful, care free and creative genius souls in this world that I always find I get on well with.  Someone who gets things done, and is straight, strong and to the point.  As well being a brilliant artist with no organisation skills and a curse of losing everything he tries so hard not to.  He has a vision like no other, and finds the most perfect use for things you would walk past in the street.  His place is a finely decorated work of art, and every touch has been placed there for positivity.  The ambience combed and styled with a fine tooth comb, junk and scrap all given a stylish part to play in the decoration of what is the most luxurious place in a festival on the sands.  Its like stepping into a VIP night club.  Ron, as the builder of this wonder, looks with pride as the room is full of people dancing and enjoying this living work of art we call ‘The Lounge’.

I start to help in any way I can, it is hard to understand how all the bits work and the systems and process for building it.  But I do whatever I can and learn a great deal along the way.  Me and Ron have very big personalities, and we are quite similar in a lot of ways, but we don’t clash (often) and act like an old couple and good strong partnership.  We look after eachother, because we feel we are the outcasts of the festival.  We were told that we were the ‘pain the arse’ of the place, which hurts a lot when we think about how much work and love we tried to put into what we created.  We are both completely broke, with massive debts behind us, we came to the festival even though the fee kept getting reduced from the original agreement and more was being asked of us for less.  We were promised to be looked after with food and drink, and be given a cut of the beer sold from our place, but yet again, things were made harder for us, and it seemed every promise was getting broken and I was starting to feel guilty eating the meals there, because of the way they screamed at Yolande, who is Rons dear friend who painted all the lounge and sorted the kitchen out.  Made her feel like she didn’t have the right to eat a meal like the volunteers or sip a beer without guilt like the organisers and staff do.  She was told to sit there and wait until Ron came back, just looking at a meal going cold.  Thats when I started to taste the coldness of the atmosphere and the brutal grip on every penny a young festival must have to survive.

Last year the festival was a failure and calamity in many ways.  Massive debts were created and big hard lessons learned.  It had its great moments for the people involved, who still partied hard and went through an incredible experience together.  The feeling of being together with everyone last year is what made it so special.  But this year, I have felt very isolated from the Magneet and been given a very different experience.

The man behind Magneet is Jesse, a bright shining crazy soul in this world, who gives all or nothing on what he believes in.  His ego can make him do some fucked up stuff when he is partying, but everyone seems to just accept it because it’s Jesse, and that’s the way he is.  I don’t know what he did before the Magneet Bar, but he I hear he is an artist of some kind, or film maker.  He could be doing a million things or nothing.  But his bright coloured clothes and boyish smile and character just tell you that he is one of those creative crazy types. 

Legend has it, the Magneet bar started at the biggest festival in Holland, Lowlands.  Jesse from his tent gave beers away to people who would come and perform or play a few songs at the party he would throw.  This then grew into a bar, with the same party ethos.  I hear tales of legendary secret parties through tunnels made in caravans that would lead to the special party Jesse was throwing.  After years at Lowlands, feeling detached from the changes and growth it had been through, he decided to throw his own festival.  The idea became a big reality, and big lessons were learned on how insanely massive a job putting on a festival for 3000 people really is. 

This year, it has sold out almost every day, it looks like the debts have been cleared and they may start making some money.  I am so happy for them, but feel a little sad as me and Ron have been the grey area of the festival.  Not given clarity on what we were doing or selling, noone seems to know how to deal with us.  We are between a stage and sound setup that the festival has hired for their use, but paid nothing in the amount that even gets close to costs and labour, but then not allowing us to sell what we wish, or be able to cash our coins in to get some more supplies for the toasties in.  We are in a limbo, broke, worked solidly hard and helped the festival massively in the last month, and feel so unappreciated it makes the memories of Magneet a little bitter.

How do you put on a festival, with no money and just debts behind you?  It has been a massive challenge for the Magneet, but they have succeeded it seems.  First of all you create your own economy, your own currency that you have complete control over.  Then you ask 30% of all takings from all stalls, and charge them a hundred euroes a day for being there.  As long as you can fill the place up, it should balance itself out and everyone should get a payday from the work they put in.  There is nothing sadder than building the ultimate party, and noone shows up.

This year they made sure they filled the place up, and have had a hand in everyones takings.  Even the kids who collect the unwanted plastic cups, have been offered deals for a cut of their takings.  Flitz, who is the very bright son of Dani, got taken to one side and was offered the title ‘The King of the Cups’ if he would give them 50 cents from each cup (worth 1e25) and they would make it so it was only he who could change the cups in for money.  He responded ‘I am already a king’ and rejected their offer. 

I am so happy for the Magneet, and everyone involved that it has been such a success, and again, I have some wonderful memories of jamming around a campfire as a pale moon on a clear sky shines down on the dykes.  I am glad that I got to experience the festival from a different perspective.  I now see how chaotic a task it is to run something of this magnitude.  I have had my lows and have felt like just leaving at times, because of the criss cross decisions that change almost every hour, or being passed off to one person after another to try and find some answers for your problems.  But on the whole, I will take away good memories from the place, just very different from the last time.

I regret trying to bring a piece of Liverpool to the place, by asking bands I know to come and play.  It was a big expense for them to come over, and they got lost in the chaos of the organisation not knowing what was happening in terms of schedule or stage times and what ‘The Lounge’ was being used for. 

Tomorrow the final weekend starts, and I feel in a much better place now, than when I started writing this a few days ago.  It is good to get things off your chest, and not to let the frustration a place like this will cause you to bubble up with.  I love all the people involved and I am proud of what they (and we) have achieved.  Maybe next year, I will have a completely different experience again.  Infact, I am quite sure.......

Seasons Change

I feel the bite of Autumn pushing through now, there is a cold in the air and I feel like I am starting again in many ways.  For the last 6 weeks I have been drained by the Magneet festival.  After the festival last year, I was so tired and needing to go home.  I felt flickers of the same feeling, like I just want to go home and curl up and rest.  I have no home though, each time I feel I need to escape, I realise I cant.  My plans have been flipped upside down.  I was certain I would get the job working at a cafe in the French Alps for the Winter, I travelled 12 hours on a bus to London to really give them my heart and passion on why I would be perfect for it.  I didn´t get the job.  So this is where I am right now, a little down, a little daunted and still very drained from the Magneet......

My mind is all over the place, I am quickly making plans on how I can look after myself this winter.  My tool for an income which is busking, is reduced massively in the cold weather and quiet season.  I could try and find work at bars and coffee shops as a musician, but it seems there are a select few places that have live music, and the rest just don't bother.  The few places are fully booked for months ahead and it is quite a closed music scene.  I have a heart full of music to bring to this city, but I still feel I am at a learning phase.  Me not getting the job in the alps is because I wasn't ready to be employed as a musician, I still need to sharpen my abilities and repatoire.

There is a lot keeping me in Amsterdam, a beautiful girl, the freedom, the bikes, the beauty, the friends, the bridges, the water, the music, the party and all the roads that are opening up to me.  But something daunts me about staying here for the Winter.  It is a magical city that I love dearly, but I feel it's time to start the next page of my travelling adventure.  I want to go to a place where the music is everywhere, in the bars, on the streets, in the hearts, and their feet.  A place I have always felt a strong attraction to.  A place just next door, that I know many people from, but have never been.  It's time to go to Ireland.

My plan is to stay in Amsterdam until November, I still have things to do here I feel.  Record an album with Cato, get involved in the music nights of the new squatted music hub 'Valdreep', and say a long farewell to a city that has been a big part of me understanding more about the world, life and myself and filled my heart with beautiful friends, memories and experiences.  I know whenever I return, it will feel like I have never been away.  I felt the city loved me like I loved her, she would look after me well, and make me feel truly blessed to be here.  I've sang my heart out to her from her bridges and tunnels and festival fires.  I've slept on the ground in the light of her moon.  I've got lost a million times but always found what I didn't know I was looking for.  I have truly felt a part of Amsterdam, and she will always be a part of me.

The Ancestors of The Future

Sunrise comes up over two massive industrial gas tanks, I have just taken a devil shaped pill after keeping the coffee bar running all night.  I say coffee bar, but it is much  more wonderous than that.  A motorbike with a wood oven, gas hobs and shelves that provide the most important fuel of a festival frequenter.  Good coffee, organic lasagne, vegetable and cheese pastries and a direct standpoint to meet the creative and crazy characters of this squatted arts village known as Ruigoord. 

Once upon a time there was a little village in the northern fields of Amsterdam, it had a church, a shop and all that a little village would need.  The industrial occupiers of the nearby fields and factories decided to buy the land of the village and demolish it.  So all the residents left their houses and settled elsewhere.  Stumbling across this abandoned village, a group of  'hippies' set up home and around that very same time, for some unattached reason, the industrial deal was cancelled, and the village was not to be demolished afterall.  40 years on, it is one of the most respected arts and festival grounds in Amsterdam and I was there at the solstice festival....

The bass drum background never ceased to beat, as everyones hearts seem to beat in 150bpm unison and in the church a synchpated half time of 75bpm Dub slows things down.  I was starting to feel the pill that I had just traded for a cofee and a cake, so I grabbed my guitar and drew myself to the morning campfire.  Festivals attract people all with a different story and background, and it is a melting pot for all sorts.

'Yeah, I am a poet/Singer-Songwriter and only psy-trance goa core beatboxer in the world' says this young English boy from Stone Henge.  He had a wispy virgin beard, and a know it all demeanor.  When he wasn't spewing out stuff about himself, he was sputtering out this spitting eating noise that was supposed to represent 'beat boxing.'  He loved talking about himself, and was quick to grab his pad of poems that he was itching to read to me. 'I am a shamanistic healer, with words you will feel yeah, I am the voice of my generation, Mr policeman, may I ask you this, why are you so lame, pig.'  And other self worshiping. I talk to him about protest songs that nurture the seeds of thoughts in people, as opposed to a rhyming reporting of exaggerated bland information of semi facts.  He sees himself as this shamanistic guide and poetic light, but is still a child with no wisdom or experience.  Although he irritated me, and it was quick and ruthless poking through the holes of his philosophies, I can at least admire a fire in a kid that wants to make things right.  Though how he was saying it was amateur and child like, he is still trying to express his frustration at what he sees as wrong.  If he seeks wisdom, he will find it.

My beautiful friend Elaine, who is a big part of the Ruigoord festival family has her camper set up in the usual spot.  We always seem to tune into eachother when it is Irish Coffee time, and as I arrive, the sunshine of Reinas and Peggy and the smell of a coffee brewing and a circle of friends enjoying sunrise in that golden morning light with a  hazy headedness of a festival dawn.  They show me the secret places of Ruigoord, the wooded hdden pathways, peacocks, turkeys, hand made houses out of wood.  The men of the village love to build things, and I never thought wooden pallets could and would be used to build so much.  The industrial powers are closing in further and further, and every year they lose some land to giant gas tankers, or wind farms.  This year they made squatting illegal in Nederlands, and yet the oldest squats in Amsterdam are now the most interesting arts and festival sites, and also homes of artists, gypsys, mechanics, musicians, welders, orphans, sailors, nurses, acrobats and all the colourful types of creative and crazy people from all over the world.

Everything is shared, people feel it is a way of adding to the atmosphere of just enjoying a good time.  You can go and sit next to anyone and start talking over a joint and a beer.  I met two guys who love Ruigoord, they have a very calm and easy going way of talking about things.  'I love to paint old things, you know, breathe some new life into them.  You see my camper here, it was so old and rusted when I got it, but look at her now with a little work and paint she is reborn.  I really think machines have a kind of human element.  They are alive in ways that they move and operate, and run on fuel like we do.' I fully understood, and related my love for the character of the bikes in this city.  Peggy and Reinas were at the info stand, greeting everyone as they arrived with their warmth and a song, and a ringing of a bell.  Again, wanting ever person who entered to have the best time possible.  Gabriel, an American musician who settled here 20 some years ago, improvises this wonderful reggae song to welcome people in, and again, adds that sparkle to the place.

The church is now a true church of the people.  It has a bar, visual projections, and the cross at the top of the spire has been turned into the symbol of Ruigoord.  A smiling almost devilish face, it is a smile that says, 'Fuck you! We can make our own world' and they do. As you enter the village, it is written,on a window in words that make you think of the infinity of time and history, 'We are the ancestors of the future'. 

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.........

One More Cup of Coffee Before I Go.....

The last 5 weeks have been crazy!  4 festivals on the run, and I feel my head is gonna explode with all the rich experiences I went through at them.  It's quite a story to tell and I am not sure where to start.  Perhaps the start? Ok........

After being in Amsterdam for a month I received an email from Dani whom I met last year at the Magneet festival.  She makes the greatest Sicilian coffee, carrot cake and muffins!  She tells me that Robodock is at the squatted ADM terrain this year and is sounding like a good one, would I like to come and help her make some coffee and cakes?  'Yes, I would'. I told her. 

I had spent the last two weeks at Barts house, Bart is one of those guys you just easily get on with.  Last year at Magneet, he was one of the first people I spoke to and helped out at the Magneet terrain.  The first thing he asked me was weather I want some food and a beer, he has one of those care free smiles and a razor sharp wit, I liked him immediately.  When I was coming to Amsterdam this time, I messaged him and he said I can stay at his place for a bit and look after it while he is away!  This made me speechlessly happy.  Last year when I came to Amsterdam, I would look around all the market stores at the junk treasures and wish I had a home in Amsterdam to be able to decorate it with all the bits and pieces they sold.  I only had a tent though, but that tent had some Dutch touches!  Now I was staying in an amazing apartment and had my own little room to decorate and make my own a bit!  I put some posters up and some chilled lights, got a box for my clothes and Colinified the room a little.  Life is beautiful I thought.  I am a very lucky person.  One evening when I popped back to the flat to pick up some clothes, Bart was waiting for his girlfriend to arrive, he was checking his phone, looking out the window, pacing around, and then when she was at the street and rung the buzzer, this smile and excitement engulfed him as he kissed her hello.  It is very heart warming to see two people so much in love.  Eva, his girlfriend, is a tall, curly haired, very energetic and beautiful Dutch girl, she has one of those perfectly happy smiles, when she talks to you, you feel you have known her forever.  I have many great memories with them at the Magneet, but that moment will always stay with me and make me smile.  Perhaps because it reminds me of when I was in love and how wonderful a feeling it is...

Bart had helped fix up a bike for me, she was an orange sticker refugee and she wobbles when she rides.  I gave her the name 'Jelly Roll' and we set off to the festival to meet Dani.  I finally found the terrain which is hidden in the industrial North of Amsterdam, a squatted village that has a big building in the centre and a massive hanger workshop where all the great engineers, builders, carpenters and artists of the ADM terrain work, building whatever they want or need.  Not for a company or a deadline, but for themselves and the parties that they throw there.  I could taste the festival atmosphere as soon as I got in.  I have felt that these festivals are like bubbles.  Inside them no other world exists, time is measured by sunrise, sunset and the weather. When you feel like a coffee it is coffee time, when you feel like a beer it is beer time, when you are hungry it is dinner time. You never look at a watch, you just get caught up in the festival flow. It felt good to be back in this atmosphere, but the one thing that was going through my head is that I am too overdressed.  I should have bought a pair of jeans with me instead of 4 suits that I bought from a charity shop! (They are just so comfy though!)  I found Dani and the coffee bar and it was great to see her again.  Last year at Magneet, we spent 7 weeks in the bubble and had incredible highs and lows, all of us who were there from the start went through something together, and a long bond was formed between us all.  The coffee bar is mobile and it is one of the most brilliant constructions I have ever seen.  It is a motorbike or a 'Backbroomer' so it has two wheels on the front and one at the back.  Just in front of the handle bars is a two layered table, with a gas cooker and all the coffee pots, in front of that is a big wood oven that cooks cakes and lasagnes and all sorts!  We exchanged our winter stories with eachother and enjoyed a cup of coffee and cake together.  Dani is a dark, beautiful Serbian born traveller, who is completely open and honest about everything.  She has a soothing way of getting things done, and is quite shamanistic in how she does it.  When she is next to a campfire, the light from it flickers in her eyes and you feel her beauty and strength shining with the flames.  We would spend the next month sleeping in her camper van and making coffee at some amazing festivals.......

Coffee, for me in England it was a spoon of Nescafe, 2.5 sugars and lots of milk, then down it straight away for a little kick. (Almost like Orwells Victory Gin, no?)  But this coffee is special coffee.   It is the sicilian way of making it, and the process is as follows.  A three layered silver pot that one the bottom you fill with water, in the middle you put coffee (Dani's coffee is grown by anarchists under a tree in the East, and is Lekker) then as the water heats on the gas cooker, the steam rises and fuses into the coffee, that then rises again up a tube and becomes liquid in the top container.  It is a very beautiful coffee, and as soon as I got back from the last festival I purchased one!  I am so proud, I am going to take it everywhere truly tasting the coffees of the world, no more nescafe instant!  Then in the cup, you put 1/3 milk, 1/3 coffee, and 1/3 milk foam.  This balance results in one the most amazing coffees you will ever drink (and 4 ssugars for me!)  Dani has a way of really making you think for yourself, she isn't telling you what to do all the time, but just throws responsibility at you and lets you get on with it.  Not telling you when you make a mistake, but just letting you learn.  I set about learning how to run the coffee bar on my own and was very proud to do so.  When I love doing somethin, I put my heart into it, and give it everything I got.  Plus, it is a great way to meet and speak to people at festivals by making coffee, I was able to experience the festival and it's people a whole different way.  Not just buying a ticket and going to see it, but seeing it built, talking to everyone involved and feeling so happy when a good cup of coffee puts a smile on their face!  I had seen bits and pieces of the festival in its build up from rehearsals and work they were still doing, but Saturday night I really got completely absorbed in the world they had so wonderfully created.  Let me try and take you through it from the start.  I hope to do it justice, but i fear the experience I felt at this, is hard to truly translate into words......


It was about 8pm on the Saturday, I shared a joint with this Slavic photographer I got on really well with, we talked about life and travels and stuff and I felt I was in a great place, a nicely stoned from the smoke.  I went up to the front gate to see where the coffee bar was when I got pulled into the show.  At the gate stood a black van, draped with black sheets, and skinheaded girls with no eyebrows cloaked in black in bare feet.  At the door the woman was smiling as she asked the new arrivals if they were 'ready to die?'  They would let 20 or so in, and then really slam the gate behind them.  There was a little skinhead (not sure weather it was male or female) running around the floor on all fours, trying to grab the bait, the skinheads on the van were waving (like a draped flag)  at it, and laughing.  Over in a patch of grass to the right of the gate, this band played acoustic.  They were dressed really spookily, but without being cheesy or trademark or anything, they just looked perfectly fitting.  they were playing random prog jazz type unsettling music, (double bass, sax, drums, guitar) and mingling with the people and really creeping them out.  Then they started to walk away as they played and we were drawn to follow.  we walked to the flaming lotus girls that was this giant submerged into the grass Griffin, with like bones that were filled with fire (controlled by gas) that would shoot up this massive fire through them.  The theatre performers were sitting down pretending to be part of the crowd when they started to have what looked like an epileptic fit of a dance.  Flinging themselves all around the bones of fire that would randomly shoot fire.  The skinheads joined in and it was a strange display.  Then over to the building.  The building was set out to represent 4 sides of life and death, and the first was a giant iron tree attached to the building with a kind of stage, that a ghostly opera singer would sing this very haunting melody backed by cello and violin.  a little further up this side was a robotic band, a robotic vodka bar and a giant robotic hand that would crush a piano!  The next side of the building was completely decorated to look like a sidewards garden.  Then on ropes dancers would seem to be caring for the garden that was like a flip sided view.  Very surreal!  behind that in a little patch of grass was 'Charron' which is a giant wheel with skeletons rowing.  When people pull the ropes it starts to spin, when they get the right speeds it lights up with strobes and really looks like skeletons are coming alive and rowing a never ending boat!  On the next side of building was the fire show.....Wow, music made completely from fire, and then a whole fire display of setting alight woodchip and throwing it all over the place, was so fascinating to watch.  the next side of the building was projecting a light show on the building that looked like it was coming to life!  The windows would crack, and then a a fruit machine wheel would spin, and always land on the Politie (Police) symbol.  There were stages on two of the sides that bands would play.  I was completely blown away by 'La Fantastique Boutique'  A 12 piece band with brass section, string section, drums, double bass, DJ, keys and no vocals!  They were amazing!  Truly!  I cant truly describe all the other smaller elements that also went in to this festival, but please take my word that this was one of the most brilliant combinations of Theatre, Art, Engineering and music that I have ever seen!  One of the theatre performers, Anna I really must tell you about.......

She is 6ft5 red hair, and has such a strong presence that I would go weak at the knees whenever she spoke to me.  Tall and slim figure, but strong.  Tattooed with naked girls and more all over her beautiful body.  She wears clothes that add to her grandness, like those tall Russian hats, and big leather boots.  Completely comfortable in her body, and happy when she is welding iron together, or performing.  She has the look of a Bond villain girl, like a Natasha. She has deep searching eyes that look right inside you, and I was always mesmerized by her whenever she was close to me.  After the festival had finished I stayed there for a bout a week, this terrain was so amazing.  It has a giant wooden tower they built, and a pizza oven, a bar and the dogs run free.  Around a hundred people live there so I am told.  They have built a perfect sauna in a caravan and on a beautiful morning I was in the sauna alone when Anna came in.  I didn't know it was her at first, but then seeing her tattoos and catching her eye my stomach fluttered.  She was sighing from the heat and touching her naked body, rubbing her legs up and down and breathing heavily.  I spoke few words, and  just enjoyed what was an amazing experience.  She was at all the other festivals as well, and always had the same effect on me.  A very beautiful, strong and creatively crazy girl with a raging fire inside her, I am sure and I hope we will meet again......

It's a Ducks Life

Since it is weather for ducks outside, I feel I should tell you about my friends....The Ducks, as well as Rooster head and the cross eyed seagulls.  The people I have met in Amsterdam have very big colourful characters, and the wild life of the city is no different......

I love getting lost on a bike ride in the city, and finding new places of wonder and meeting people.  On my second day here I set out to Flevo park to find a place where I could sit in peace and practise my guitar and learn new songs.  Last year I found a beautiful spot in the park, with an amazing seat by the river.  It had lots of passing traffic though, and was quite hard to feel as isolated as I sometimes like to feel.  So this time I was determined to find the perfect spot.  I rode all around Flevo park just looking for my new retreat.  I came accross an almost hidden path way that I couldn't resist following down.  As I got nearer my heart fluttered.  This was perfect!  A clearing that opened up to a well hidden spot away from all passers by.  A fallen trea to sit on, and the river right at my toes.  Facing East to watch sunrise, and a view of the Magneet Festival skies.  I took out my compass and marked down my location.  I completely refuse to allow a smart phone to cpature what I see, and tell me where to go.  A compass and a map is much more prefarable to me.  I sat on the tree and enjoyed the view.  I felt this was the perfect place where I could just go and learn as many new songs to busk as possible!  I am on a 'learn 2 a day'diet that is going quite well.  I started playing and singing and after about 20 minutes a family of ducks came close to inspect what was happening.  One of the reasons Spring is my favourite season is that you get to see new wildlife at its youngest, and this beautiful mother with her 6 ducklings just melted my heart.  The mother was proud and protective and shone this golden tint on her feathers that made me just smile at her beauty.  The ducklings were high squeaking, lightly coloured stumbling bundles of joy.  I was so suprised when they came right up to me, quacking and squeaking right to my feet!  I wished I had some food to give them, because they seemed hungry.  I found a corn biscuit in my pocket and broke it up into pieces for them.  They seemed to really like it and I wished I had more to give them.  So I played them a few songs and just said to myself what I always say when Amsterdam amazes me.  'GOD, I love this city!!!' I must say that about 10 times a day.  I felt I had found my perfect place to come, and was already planning to see them again tomorrow......

Money was disintigrating so I thought I needed a budget.  I figured I could live off 6 Euroes a day.  Buying a baghuette, some cheese, filling my water bottle and a bar of chocolate.  I picked some wheat bread that I thought the ducks might like and on the next day I went back.  God I was hoping they would return.  I found the place again, took out my guitar and a few minutes later I was paid a visit.  I hoped it was a different family because she only had 2 ducklings with her.  It was, I am sure.  I was throwing them some Wheat bread and they seemed to really like it.  Coming up close.  This time their Dad was there watching.  It's strange, I am no wildlife expert. But I could just tell he was the Dad.  The mother with her beautiful brown colouring, and the dad with his green neck and stern face.  Almost like he was wearing a suit and a tie.  He would stay back making sure the kids and his woman ate first.  I would throw him some aswell though, that he seemed a bit reluctant to take.. Now that's a good Dad, someone who puts their kids first.  I was enjoying watching them and feeding them, when the other family of ducks came near.  Yay!  I threw them some wheat bread too and was happy to see them.  But the mother of 2 didn't like this.  It was her feeding spot.  Before I knew it the two mothers went 'Beak to Beak'and started flapping and fighting right in front of me.  I was like 'Noooooo!  There's enough for everyone!  Calm down, calm down.'  It went on for a few minutes untill the mother of 2 retreated looking sad and defeated.  The mother of 6 stood up in the water and flapped her wings with her head up. (I think this is a victory pose, they seem to do it alot)  I was still a bit heart broken at this fight as I watched the mother of 2 swim away but keep looking back.  The family of 6 came right up to me quacking their little hearts out and taking wheat bread from my hands.  As sad as I was about the fight, I kind of understood that that is the way the world is.  Life is a fight.  You have to defend what is yours, and fight for what you think is right.  Humans are no different.  So this mother of 6 won, because she was the stronger one, she had 6 kids and even the kids were getting into the fight.  They do this thing where they put their head down like they are going to charge, and if the other doesn't flee, then they go 'Beak to Beak' or Bill to Bill I suppose.  Beak to Beak just sounds better.  I think every time I have gone there, I have ended up giving them more than I have eaten myself, but it's worth it. 

The more and more I went there, the more life I seen.  It's like a little neighbourhood.  Over in the rush's there lives a very edgy paranoid beautiful creature.  He is always there, and when I am feeding the ducks he comes for a nose.  I try to throw him some food, but he runs away from it.  Completely black, not a duck, or a seagull, but swims like a duck but has a beak and demeaner of a gull.  He has this white stripe coming down his head and a white beak that makes him very curious.  I seem to call him Rooster head, and when he swims up his neck goes back and forth like a pidgeon.  He is a funny character, that once everyone else has gone, he comes to see if there is anything left over.  He is getting a bit braver and coming closer now, but he just looks very edgy and paranoid all the time.  I love him.  Another day I was there, I was feeding them, and a pack of sea gulls came for a visit.  When a duckling was heading for a piece of wheat bread, they would swoop down and nick it from them.  One of these gulls came right in front of me and landed on a submerged log and looked me dead in the eye.  He was wonderfully bright white, with a black and grey shades.  But very rich healthy colour.  When he looked at me dead in the eye, I burst out laughing.  He was almost cross eyed.  You know those sets of eyes you get on toys, that spin around and move.  It was like that.  I swear he looked me straight in the eye, and he just had this great comedy like look about him.  I loved him straight away and said my mantra 'GOD I love this city!!'  There are so many parks and fountains,and just beautiful green getaways in the city.  There are swans everywhere, and these amazingly bright green tropical birds you see, rabbits and hares, and all sorts of happy wildlife!  The dogs all are very obedient and well behaved, and they mingle naturally and playfully with other dogs. There is a peacefulness here, and wildlife that I would be amazed to see matched by another capital city!