One time I was busking in Elgin in Scotland 10 or 11 years ago. I played and played and nothing came in, not a penny, people just walked by. Just as I was starting to doubt myself, it started to rain. I pulled my stuff in from the path and put the amp and mic under a window ledge for shelter and sat there a little depressed after what felt like a wasted hour or so in the cold. I curled over my guitar and started humming to myself in my defeated mood. And there I was, hanging sloppily over my guitar and vomiting up whatever words came to me and out of nowhere a £2 coin fell into my guitar case, then another pound, and then another, and on it went.
It was quite surreal. When I played for them they ignored me. When I played for me they paid me even though they could hardly hear what I was doing in the midst of writing a song, mumbling to myself. Perhaps there’s a message in there, or maybe that was just Elgin on a rainy day.
