Jun
28
2010
The Subway Diaries - Adventures of a Subway Musician | Heidi | Comments (1)
Author, Busking, Cell Phone Messages, Harlem, Heidi Kole, Kids, Music, Musician, New York, Summer, The Subway Diaries, Underground, Underground The Subway Diaries
I was gigging up in Harlem last week and this group of five or six little girls passed by, maybe nine or ten years old, and they became transfixed. Within a matter of seconds we had a mutual fan club thing goin’ on; I love the kids. They listened to the music, clapped, danced, stared at the money mixed in with the constant cache of assorted candies I keep in my guitar case, chit chatted, giggled and emptied their little pockets of pennies, nickles and dimes into my case.
Once done my gigging for the night and back above ground I noticed there was a new voice mail waiting for me. Thought you might want to hear…
Click below & Enjoy : )
audiolove1
And a day later…
audiolove2
This kid’s fabulous!
Rock on world!
Heidi ~
Jun
20
2010
The Subway Diaries - Adventures of a Subway Musician | Heidi | Comments (4)
Busking, Heidi Kole, Hudson River, Kayaking, Musician, NYC, Performer in NYC Subways, Rose, Running, Summer, The Subway Diaries
Sometimes ya have to come up for air and when you do look what you find…
These wild roses live long the Hudson River. Here and there, the predominantly light pink have cross pollinated with the dark pink and this one particular light pink rose ended up with just one dark pink petal, in the shape of a heart! – Magic
"Rose on Rose"
Jun
15
2010
The Subway Diaries - Adventures of a Subway Musician | Heidi | Comments (0)
Adrian Margaret Brune, Author, Busker, Heidi Kole, Music, Musician, Musician Recession, NY, NYC, New York City Subways, Subways, The Subway Diaries
Stumbled on a street artist of a new fashion underground in Grand Central Station, sitting at the edge of the “S” (Shuttle) train…
First for me seeing this underground ~
Her sign...Columbia...those have got to be some major student loans to cover @ $3 a pop
Adrian Margaret Brune 917.239.7923/ambrune@gmail.com...in case you have a lead for her & can't read my fuzzy photo
PS she gave me a short story : )
Jun
04
2010
L-train Nightmare
This is a quick post on the musical, subway-themed gem that is Williamsburg Will Oldham Horror by Jeff Lewis. As this is the spot for all things subway or underground railway themed, it seems an appropriate song to write about.
In case you’re not aware of the song, it was recorded about in the mid-noughties by Brooklyn Anti-Folk musician Jeff Lewis. Anti-folk, in case you haven’t heard of that either, is a singer-songwriter type of music that undermines the earnestness of the folk genre with a ready wit. Lewis has been performing from the late 90s and is one of the ‘formost practioners’ of the art. He is a bit of a radical and you won’t see Cheeky Bingo or STP corporate sponsorship on his shirt, he’s more likely to ask a member of the audience if they have a spare couch to sleep on that night.
The song starts with Jeffrey setting off to re-master his album at Major Matt’s. This is not the action figure but a NYC musician and record producer going by the same name His studio, Olive Juice Music, is in the Lower East Side, so presumably the song takes place somewhere between Bedford Avenue on the BMT Canarsie Line and Union Square station where he would change onto the Lexington Avenue Line.
Anyway, that is pretty much the end of the subway technicalities mentioned in the song, although the Williamsburg/Brooklyn hipster milieu is amusingly described: ‘crowded five to an apartment’ and ‘ten thousand white twenty-somethings crowded on’ the L-train. While on the train he thinks he sees Will Oldham, a very successful Indie musician, sitting near him. This sets of a long, rambling and very funny (subway) train of thought
The highpoint of the song has to be Jeff’s thoughts about attempts to make a a living as a creative person and whether Will Oldham, the indie superstar, is subject to the same insecurities and doubts as the less successful hipsters. Jeff wonders if Oldham is plagued by the feeling that his work is nowhere near as good as Bob Dylan or Neil Young, but then supposes that all artists must suffer this feeling – Dylan probably wondered if he wasn’t as good as Allen Ginsberg or Albert Camus, and the famous French existentialist no doubt wondered if he would ever measure up to the titanic talents of John Milton or Montaigne or whoever. Insecurity about one’s place is universal, no doubt… and all that from a quick ride on the subway.