I remember reading about an Indian (eastern not native) holiday that was akin to labor day. I can’t remember the name of the holiday, but it was mandatory that everyone rested. Except the musicians, the musicians were required to play…a subtle difference from work as a musician.
A few nights ago, I met a fantastic musician named Steve M. He was playing lap steel in a little ragtag rockabilly outfit. They weren’t necessarily tight, but they had the magic in full force. I had played a few songs myself that night and Steve complimented my writing and arranging. Thanks. So we got to talking a bit and I told him about my busking hoping that he might be interested in going out sometime.
Turns out he was. So we met at powell after I had already broken a string. I tell ya, there’s nothing like breaking a string to throw me off the music. Thankfully, Steve had a replacement so we could go for a while. And we did. He’s a heck of a player.