Sidewalk Cafe, Manhattan, New York
Sidewalk Cafe, Manhattan, New York, 14th April 2003:
How can I begin to describe the vast, mind-boggling, sensory blitzkrieg that is New York?
I felt like a geranium plucked from a remote suburban window box and deposited in the Amazon jungle. Comparing it to Whitstable is like comparing a soggy box of Bryant & May safety matches to the sun. Imagine London, Paris, Rome, Berlin, Tokyo and Kowloon all crammed into the same place. In fact, it makes London look like Dingley Dell, only quieter.
Two things to get used to: first off, you have to tip bar staff (I had absolutely no idea about this!!); second, smoking has been banned in all bars and clubs, a measure even I consider mildly draconian, but it is so much nicer, and you are so much less hoarse the next morning!
Well, this open stage (aka The Fort) occurs every Monday at the Sidewalk Café, 94 Av. A, NYC. It is run by anti-folk legend Lach who has since visited Canterbury twice! One or two logistical problems (had to borrow a guitar — thanks Jeremy!) and a the small detail of 50-odd others waiting to play! I was 41 on the list and got to play around 2am. By then my brain was somewhat frazzled, but response was highly favourable to my token tune (and yes, there were still people there).It was superficially pretty similar in terms of atmosphere and arrangement to UK open stages. The array on offer was vast and the styles on offer varied as much as the quality, from the sublime to the ridiculous to the no-please-stop-this-torture-immediately. As ever I am hopeless with names. A couple a I remember were Regina Spektor (piano-based tunes, a little like Laura Nyro, but maybe poppier), and Lisa Fitzgibbon (furrowed-brow acoustic manoeuvres), but the night was so long it’s hard to remember details. On balance, the girls seemed to be better than the boys, I don’t know why. Another thing: guitar shops also seemed to be frequented by many females, unlike Blighty where there’s nowt but geeky males. There was some heavy-handed political sermonising (but, hey- “war”, “Bush”, “McDonald’s” and “oil” aren’t the easiest words to fit into rhyming couplets as was demonstrated more than once) and on a couple of occasions it was hard to tell if the “comedy” was serious or the “serious” comedy… who knows? I never thought I’d play anywhere weirder than The Smack. Still, it was worth it. I’ve finally played Manhattan and heard some fine acts (and a few terrible ones!), but next time (next time, oh yes!) I want to play before midnight.