Monday, 10 August 2009

Fifth Night

Yesterday I had to do an open spot on the Royal Mile, on one of the stages.

It was an interesting process. I got some sense of what it might feel like to be a vagrant. There are strict rules about performing on the Mile - you can't use amplification of any kind. Which is fine, as long as you're not squished up between some people yodelling Shakespeare, and an accordion band. My little ukulele didn't stand a chance. So I felt like a bit of a numpty, almost mutely mouthing my way through a few songs that made no sense whatsoever out of context, and attracting looks of at worst, disdain, through bewilderment, to, at best, pity.

Finally a few people started paying attention. I almost broke down and wept when a sweet young boy, maybe three years old, started dancing to my version of "Jump Around".

Sweet innocence of youth!

By and by a few people stuck around to listen, which was jolly sporting of them.

I am relieved not to be doing it again.

The two shows continue to be maddeningly unpredictable. YOU JUST CAN'T TELL. EVER.

The audience decides collectively how your gig will go. It's never about your performance, or how much you put into it. Yesterday - the Free Show - Amazing. The Pay Show - So-so.

Today - the EXACT OPPOSITE. My nerves can't take this kind of lottery.

Oh, by the way, I have been learning some new Scottish phrases. You will be interested to know, I hope, that I nearly sprained my Queet this afternoon. But it still does the job.

Thanks to the Cheltenham Massive for this evening - it meant the world.



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