Subway Platform Musicians

 

Blockhead
I’ve heard the tall tales of musicians getting discovered while playing on subway platforms.  We all have. MAYBE that shit has happened once in the history of the universe.  The same way some imaginary guy has been discovered while singing loudly to himself on the street (word to your man Tyrese).  Regardless of all these yet to be proven stories, subway musicians, by and large, are fucking annoying.  Whether it be some old guy on a trumpet fumbling his way through a rendition of “Summertime” or some hippie shitbag playing an acoustic guitar, it’s rarely anything anyone wants’ too hear.  Occasionally, you may luck out and come across one of those bizarre one man band motherfuckers who plays an organ, while drumming with their feet and blowing on a harmonica, but even those guys are only mildly entertaining for a short period of time. The bottom line with subway platform musicians is that it’s a self involved act. it’s someone thinking the world needs to hear their music and going to a place that people HAVE to be and cannot leave.  It’s not like they’re up in the coffee house or a small music venue.  They’re just chilling in public, playing their hearts out, while people go to work and, in most cases, want to be left completely alone.  So fuck those guys.  Not to mention when your greatest success story is kids playing buckets in a levis jeans commercial it may be time to look into plan b.

Williamsburg

Alaska
As a rule I hate revivalists.  Whether it is waiters from Johnny Rockets dressing like waiters from the 50’s or Little Brother making music that sounds like ATCQ ate a gang of retard sandwiches.  But the most annoying revivalists are those that like to dress up like colonists, and colonial Williamsburg is ground zero for these dicks.  I don’t get the appeal of this shit.  If I wanted to see an overzealous teacher or a failed actor I would just sign up for acting class at the local community college.  I don’t need some dick that doesn’t break character give me some shtick about not knowing what a toilet is when I ask him where to find the shitter.  Dude you are wearing a Swatch and drove here in a fucking 1997 Hyundai Excel, how about giving the shitty accent a break and tell me where I can drop this deuce off.  Wait did you mean the place in Brooklyn with all the J.O’s with stupid facial hair and Ting Ting shirts? 

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