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“I just know I’m meant to be here right now,” I said in confirmation of John Lennon’s line – there’s nowhere you can be that isn’t where you’re meant to be – a line I’ve had to repeat to myself just to find solace in the midst of my financial quagmire. Paying rent is indeed difficult when one has no income.

And the search continues.

Since I’ve moved to New York City, I’ve spent a lot of time scanning online lists – craigslist, idealist, TGC listserv – looking for work. My objective and hope has been to find a tolerable part-time job working 15-20 hours per week and making the same amount per hour so that I could focus full-time hours on music: practicing, gigging, busking, instructing, composing/arranging, etc. After hunting for a month and a half I just couldn’t take it anymore. I was existentially frustrated, physically exhausted, and financially drained. I felt as though I had no other choice. I would have to take to the streets. Finally. Once and for all.
I tried Central Park, sitting alongside the bike/walking trails playing and singing to the passersby. Over the course of a couple hours I met and had conversations with some interesting people, but I only made one dollar American and a slight bit more Canadian.

This was not good enough. I could not afford to be playing for two fifty (in mixed currency) per hour. Surely I would fare better along busy streets, I thought.

A couple weeks later I tried the corner of Houston and 1st Ave but the rain and cold got the best of me. My icy pink fingers and guitar were displeased. For only a few dollars, it was still not worth the suffering; so I took the nearest subway train to the Broadway/Lafayette stop, where I opened my case on the platform between the Brooklyn-bound lines and played for pittance.

A few days later I tried the platform at the Jackson Heights stop in Queens, through which five different lines run. A pair of pretty p’licemen approached me asking whether I had a permit, though they could tell I didn’t. They graciously told me that their superiors were roaming the station (not a terribly common occurrence, they assured me) and that if I was spotted by them, the officers would be forced to ticket me – something that they admitted they did not want to do. “I don’t want you to either,” I confessed. They directed me to the mezzanine, where I would be able to play without interference. Before I had even finished setting up on the mezzanine another officer approached me with the same bad tidings. It was apparently not the best day to perform in that particular station.

I’ve made valorous attempts at a number of other stations, but I believe I’m averaging only about $4 per hour altogether.
Thankfully, I have not been insulted or publicly ridiculed as was my experience in Orlando. Still, this consolation and my meager earnings are not enough to pay rent next month. I’m going to have to figure out how I’m going to make busking worth my while… at least until I join that other demographic – the 80% of New Yorkers with stable income. You know, the ones who can afford to pay November’s rent in USD.

His music is mostly influenced by American folk and punk, but his tastes, writing, and performing style have also been influenced by his experience as a music student at UCF, where he was exposed to classical, jazz, avant garde, and early forms of electronic music. For more info, pics, or mp3s, please visit myspace.com/giosafari.

Cost/prices: Free!
Review and more info: Needs money.
Photos or Videos:

Click here to view the embedded video.

It has been just over a week since I moved to NYC, in hopes of making a living from street performing and teaching music lessons. I moved from Orlando, FL, where I had made something of a reputation for myself. I would often walk up to the busy corner of Central and Orange to find a musician or two and before I could even speak a word to them, they would say with respectful apology, “We were just on our way, you can have your spot.” I performed late nights on the streets of Orlando to the drunks, the police, the proselytizers and the homeless for about six months, starting in November last year. When fights broke out, I would sing “All You Need is Love” and when groups in their mid-twenties would walk past, I’d bust out 90’s classics by Third Eye Blind or the Cranberries.

Busking seemed to be a profitable endeavor at first, I was averaging around twenty dollars a night (though I was told by some fellow musicians that I would fare much better in larger cities like NYC or San Francisco). As time wore on and the economy worsened, I found that the morale of the Orlando night scene was decreasing lower and lower ‚Äì and that there was a reciprocal relationship between the low morale and the amount I would make on any given night. Rather than “keep it up” or “great job”, I was hearing “give it up” and “get a job”; I had people insult me, throw things at me, spit in my case; they would toss garbage rather than change into my case. After a long period of meager earnings, excessive verbal and emotional abuse, I determined that downtown Orlando was no longer a healthy environment for me to perform.

I discontinued my weekend outings and got to work on music of my own. I recorded and released a debut solo CD, which was immediately followed by a five week tour to Seattle, WA. I played in a dozen different cities, slept on at least as many living room couches, and made countless new friends and acquaintances. I had been planning on moving to NYC for about two years, not necessarily knowing how I would pay my bills; but after putting all the work into releasing my CD and touring (all done totally DIY), I had a renewed confidence in myself and my musical abilities. I knew that I could make it in NYC as a street performer and music instructor.

I’ve been in NYC for a week now and have hardly worked up the nerve to get out there and make my statement, to this city and to the world. The questions are looming: will NYC treat me any better than Orlando did? Will the cops harass me? Will I be able to pay my bills?

Only time will tell ‚Äì at which point I’ll have the answers to these questions. I get started next week, so stay tuned. Peace.

myspace.com/giosafari

Click here to view the embedded video.

It’ll be down in less than a year.

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Despite the noise coming from a dance/acrobatic troupe next to the bethesda fountain, Thoth and Pink Angel still managed to create the dream-like wonderland atmosphere where fairies and Aztecs are bound in operatic drama. If you get a chance to go down there, you should definitely check them out (I think they are there normally in the afternoon, Thursday through Sunday), if not just to look at the expressions on the faces of the people who are watching them. If you enjoy people watching, these are good people to watch.

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I got home, edited the video, and heard these perfect words from my brother: “That’s well impressive.” So thanks, Thoth

Click here to view the embedded video.

A free, outdoor, bilingual (Spanish/English) performance of the popular children’s story, Cinderella. With some guy in a wifebeater shouting at them to “turn it down.” I couldn’t handle this much excitement, so I left after about ten minutes, but stayed long enough to hear enjoyable lines like “Facebook somebody who cares!” In your face, New York. I love you. Here’s the first few minutes, just an introduction to the play. You know the rest.

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Click here to view the embedded video.

I was lucky enough to be passing the Metropolitan Museum again while Acapella Soul were out on the block. Last time they were in large dark suits, with the sun beating down, singing “I Wish it Would Rain.” This time, a little more upbeat, singing the Lion King’s “The Lion Sleeps Tonight” to the enjoyment of the dozen or so kids in the crowd. And again, try and listen to them with your headphones on, otherwise you’ll miss the bass.

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And here’s their beautiful rendition of The Lion Sleeps Tonight. Expect to see them outside the MET next year as well.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Rakiem Walker went to town on requests from the crowd, wailing through “Favorite Things” and the American national anthem, ending the set with “Here Comes the Bride” for two lovers having professional photos taken. I found him at the Bethesda Terrace in Central Park (right next to the Bethesda Fountain). In Central Park — and, in fact, the rest of New York — there isn’t a more beautiful or more serene spot than this. Efforts like the High Line in the Meatpacking District come close, but there’s nothing like listening to music echoing off ornate walls and columns with a large crowd and gorgeous scenery on a warm August afternoon. Rakiem has a lot of breath in him, and plays effortlessly. Hopefully he’ll turn up here at some point and tell him a little more about himself.

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Enjoy the movie.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Again, yes I know, these aren’t really street performers. But it’s a street, and they’re performing. So, if anyone wants to go to a free street performance, go down to the Central Park Skate Circle, found on the “dead road” in Central Park. Why do they call it the “dead road”? Find out here….

Click here to view the embedded video.

This and this will tell you more…