But first the positives. Noah managed an impressive feat: an impromptu fashioning of a guitar strap from a twenty foot instrument cable, with the use of a carefully designed and positioned tying mechanism. I can only assume this bizarrely functional knot was an invention of his own; it appears nowhere in my Collins guide.
And a good day's playing was had. We aired a couple of new tunes, making their first transitions from the rehearsal womb into the big wide real world. The Log Flume, another dance from The Suite of Standard Theme Park Rides, was segued with The Ghost Train, a tune which has been ambling around lonely without a partner for some months. Also making their debuts were The Psychedlic Circus and The Magnificent Seventh. Playing a tune for the first time 'live' can sometimes be a bit daunting, sufficing to say that these two contained their fair share of errors. However, with the deadlock broken, we are looking forward to whipping out these newcomers with greater regularity.
Then there was The Heckler.
Being no seasoned street performers, the heckle took us a little by surprise. 'Play something funky' was the opening line. Obligingly I undertook to satisfy the gentleman's request, trying to get my fingers around the Get On Up bassline. Overtly unimpressed, the heckler speedily left the scene with the nugget 'Don't blag it as a musician.'
Brilliant! Build us up with an offer of interest, knock us down with a slamming condemnation, then bugger off leaving us emotionally compromised. Fantastic heckling; by now we knew we were dealing with a professional.
We had scarcely time to exchange looks when the big-timer was back, this time having apparently ditched his levelled 'build-me-up-buttercup' style in favour of an outright public tirade of increased volume. While I pondered which combination of profanity to select to hurl back at the fella I realised, much to my disappointment, that the best course of action was probably going to be ignorance. So I turned round and remembered that before all this happened we were playing The Turkish Wench-Magnet, and that indeed we were still playing The Turkish Wench-Magnet, and I had better promptly find the right notes with which to continue The Turkish Wench-Magnet.
A couple more nuggets made their way from the ex-professionals mouth in our general direction and then The Heckler was gone, merged into the crowd, washed away in the grey babble of a hundred footsteps, just a small blemish on a hot day's street performance.
And so we left the precinct after ninety minutes with a decent tally for the session, but moreover with a priceless lesson learned: Always concentrate when playing The Turkish Wench-Magnet.
Of course the real lesson learned was regarding heckling, that is, it's probably best to ignore them. Au revoir for now.
