Mike Scott is pop’s only literate lyricist who would dare take on the stately iconography of William Butler Yeats. Forget about the living proof provided by his band the Waterboys as they tackle the Irishman’s prickly poems through a series of 14 daringly diverse arrangements on the new An Appointment With Mr. Yeats (Proper American). You’d know that if you’ve listened to Scott’s richly robust catalog of Waterboys albums made since 1983, or even read his recently released book, Adventures Of A Waterboy. Though imbued with an intellectual curiosity beyond that of the most wizened scholar, Scott has long found himself inspired by Yeats’ vivid world-weary lyrical textures and smartly grammatical manner. On the other hand, he’s a big Twitter fan. Go figure. Scott will also be guest editing magnetmagazine.com all week. Read our new Q&A with him.
Dublin, Ireland, is a great old city for buskers. When I’m in town I always stroll down Grafton Street, the city’s shopping street with the greatest concentration of buskers and check out who’s on display. On any fine day there will be upwards of a dozen different acts and performers: a man doing sand-sculptures of a sleeping dog; a little boy playing an upright piano; several acoustic guitarist/singers; a funky jam band with a drum kit; a lonesome saxman; a poet stood in the middle of the passing river of humanity holding up his photocopied poetry books trying to snag a buyer; a little family of Irish kids, the lads playing whistles and bodhrans while their sisters dance with furrowed, worried expressions; a man with a puppet that dances to a John Lennon song; several variations of painted-statue people; the splendid “windblown man” who stands frozen in mid-stride, his hair, tie and coat frozen in motion as if blown back by a wild wind. And many, many more.
At the extreme ends of the spectrum are the Great and the Terrible.
The Terrible are what I call the karaoke buskers; they have portable sound systems and play along to backing tapes. These performers are always too loud, spoiling the street for other performers, and seem stuck in a narrow repertoire of overly familiar naff songs, usually unsuited to their instrument of choice (almost always a soaring, out-of-tune violin).
The Great are two of the strangest buskers I have ever seen. I’ve made short videos of them both for you.
1. God
This frisky older man dresses in colourful semi-military costume—full marks for effort—and dances on a shallow wooden board while plinking little bells. He has a backing tape of cheesy Irish folk music, but thankfully he plays nothing over it, just dances. And his dance is so curiously formal, so goofily elegant, so courteous-yet-bonkrs that he has become a favourite with the people. Imagining he must come from some far-flung corner of Ireland where such dances are still practiced, perhaps in some gaelic tribal ritual. I walked up to him one day and said—and this was the right question—”What county are you from, Sir?” But he understood the question not, for he wasn’t Irish at all, but a non-English-speaking immigrant, perhaps from Spain or Eastern Europe, and his dance is therefore self-concocted. Which is actually much funnier and more lovable.
2. The Japanese Ying-Tong Man
Weird-voiced and intense, punctuating his toneless song with loud screechings made by rubbing two sticks together, this fellow performs medieval Japanese rituals while the people of Dublin pass by in confoundment, or stand open-mouthed and amazed. He is courageous and oddly vulnerable, and several times, when I’ve spotted tough Dublin kids watching him with an eye on his takings, I’ve stood close, ready to step in should any mischief occur. It never has, fortunately. I asked him one day what the ritual was about, and he explained it was an invocation of nature spirits and the spirits of place. And I’ve noticed he gives thanks to the four directions—east, north, west and south—when he finishes. His presence is not only a curiosity then, it is a blessing.
Video after the jump.
One reply on “From The Desk Of The Waterboys’ Mike Scott: Busking In Dublin”
On my visits to N.Y. my cousin and often marvel at what we find on our walks through Central Park. Dublin, is a trip on my bucket list!