Past The Tipping Point

Some of these gigs are worse than others. I started this Monday morning tired, irritable, with a sore throat. Drove to work because I didn't feel awake enough to hold the CB1100 upright for half an hour in traffic. Cut out of work and went over to the sandwich shop to play for a bit. Tips were lower than usual, even for a Monday, although for the first time in my life I got an actual dollar coin in the cup. There are days when you know you're not connecting with the audience and this was one of them. Two older women who'd taken the last available table near me changed their minds and moved to another one, farther away.

The restaurant cleared out as one-o'-clock approached. With five minutes left in the gig, I looked around. Just a few people left. The older women. Two construction workers at a low table, a couple of suits in back, an attractive young mother with an infant in a convertible car seat. My throat just plain hurt. Nobody would hassle me if I quit early. Or I could play one more, and try to make it count.

About a year ago, I managed to stumble on a song that everybody in the world but me seemed to know. It's called "Take Me To Church" and it was the debut track of Andrew Hozier-Byrne, who performs as "Hozier". Those of you who have a bit of audiophile in you will be amused to hear that the vocal on the track is the actual demo; Mr. Hozier was unable to record it in a studio with enough energy or force to surpass his first take at home, even though the music surrounding him was re-recorded properly using the demo vocal as a guide track.

You can hear it on YouTube here. I have to say that I'm ambivalent as fuck about this song. To begin with, I first heard it in unpleasant circumstances which I won't bother to relate here. To continue, I think the message of the song is reprehensible; it uses the imagery of the Catholic Church to refer to performing oral sex on a woman who is superior to the narrator. Not only is that unrighteous in the sight of God, it teaches young men to "worship" and/or elevate women which, in the long run, is a good way to find yourself playing MMORPGs alone each and every Saturday night. Last but not least, the official video for the song is basically one long piece of militant anti-religious propaganda in which a young gay couple is systematically persecuted by EVIL WHITE CHURCHY TYPES.

With all of that said, it's a fascinating tune and it's very different from the usual run of alt-rock so I have the music in the little stack that I bring with me to each lunch gig and from time to time I'll give it a shot. It's also vocally demanding so I figured I'd save it for last today and if I burned out on it there wouldn't be any consequences for having done so.

Alright. Gave the RainSong a half-hearted warm-up strum.

My lover's got humor She's the giggle at a funeral...

I got through it. I can't say it was perfect but I can say that I was true to the spirit of the song. I called it a day and sat down. About five minutes later, the young mother walked up to me, her baby on her arm.

"I just wanted to thank you for the Hozier cover," she said. I hadn't realized how pretty she was, in a very angular-faced sense. She wasn't wearing makeup. "I really needed to hear that right now. Thank you again."

"You know, I almost didn't play it, because of your baby, but I figured the lyrics wouldn't come across." She smiled in response.

"It's appropriate for all ages, I think. Kids and adults too. Thank you." One last flash of a grin and she was out the door. Periodically things like this will happen. Last month I wobbled through two verses of "Bird Of Sorrow" by Glen Hansard and was so disappointed in my ability to carry the tune that I wrapped it up early. Then a business-suited woman walked up to me.

"That's my favorite Glen Hansard song. Thank you for playing it." And she put three bucks in the tip cup.

My fellow Hozier fan didn't tip me; I'd already put the cup away. But I think she knew that a genuine smile from an attractive woman can be its own reward. And anyway, I don't do this for the money. There's really only one thing I do for the money: go to the day job. It's a form of sleep, to do something for no reason other than to cash a check. The problem is that once you get the taste of having a little money in your pocket, it's hard to let it go. Take me to church, Mammon; like the song says, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies.