I was waiting for the train, as I spend most my day, and across the platform was a disheveled 50 something woman sitting with her blanket, her box for money, and a guitar. Sadly, I felt extremely skeptical about her abilities with that guitar. I mean, I’ve seen a lot of street performers. A LOT. And contrary to the belief I carried before I moved here, many are not good. At all. Of course this could do with the fact I spent most my visiting days in Time’s Square and the UWS… and now I live in the Heights.
So point being, I assumed she sucked. This thought was exacerbated by the fact the guitar was just laying by her side as she seemed to slump in a drunk stupor.
Then with no prompt, she lifted her head and pulled up her guitar. She played a long intro and she was… really good. Great in fact. I was impressed, and a little embarrassed. I wished I was on the other side to throw a few ones in her open box.
Then she sang. Her voice was like no voice I have ever heard before. She was a perfect mix of Joni Mitchell and Jewell, with the riffing abilities of Adele. All this while maintaining a strict 70′s sensibility. Her skill in vocal ability was only surpassed by the unending emotion that poured from her mouth.
I have never wished for a recorder more in my life. And that’s not an exaggeration. Sometimes people surprise you. Then you move to New York, and everyone does.