busking with my electric cello

playing in the streets. i’ve been almost a year and a half doing it. i decided to leave the damned theater (which otherwise has given me everything) and it’s derivatives to be a musician. music is what i’ve always loved. to make my own music, starting from below. i began 3 months ago studying music at a school (after 20 years learning it by my self!!). i also recorded an album and jumped into the street to work on it every day. until you get the point the street is very tough. then you get used and you do need to play almost every day. in berlin and in los angeles you earn a enough money. madrid right now is a disaster, our economy is destroyed. during a few years this will be my base, the ground from which i will grow up (i started in madrid’s subway. the foundations are started from the ground david!). i’ll get from here to wherever, as always. for my balls. with magic or without it. so romantic…

i sell my cd’s, i meet very different people interested in my music (from an old woman to a homeless, a skater or a family with children …) and more importantly, with each day my dream of being a cellist and composing my own music becomes true. i wait for no one to tell me i am a musician, or a composer. i am just being it. and i work when i want and where i want. no bloody bosses. i can practice a passage or a new composition dozens of times, allowing errors. i can travel to any major city in the west and make a living without even knowing the local language. and what i earn is for me; no taxes, do not wait 4 months to be payed, no invoices or tickets … i do not have talent, a particular talent that makes me good doing something, so my destiny would be to serve and work for those “talented” ones. but i resist. it will take me one hundred times more effort, but i will get it.

playing in the street also makes me to leave my hole, it’s good to me, to my head. i am in the outside world.

these are the good things… because after 18 years working in theaters, well, you get used to have a dressing room where you leave things, an audience more or less respectful and quiet, getting a lot of money for performing during 90 minutes (yes, after 3 months of rehearsals) …so it’s hard to play concerts of 5 hours and watching the 95% of people just passing by, meanwhile you are getting so cold. also to go every single day to job. finding someone else is playing in “your” spot. what about taking hundred of small coins to the bank every week; separated, sorted and counted one by one by one. drunk people shutting at you. and of course, the security guard or police man telling you to leave right now, as it’s not allowed to play here… excuse me sir, do you know who am i? hahahahaaaaa

but the hardest thing, i am not kidding, it’s how fuckingly hurts my ass ‘cos so many hours being seated over my amp.

i can be proud that i will never play the fucking albinioni’s agagio or vivaldi’s four seasons (which i adore by the way). i play own my music (well… except the delicious rabel’s bolero and some arrangements of purcell and rameau that i play sometimes).

here is one of the scores i’m starting to transcribe to organize my work. thanks to the “logic” score editor and my incipient knowledge of music. laaaaaaaa la raaaaa.

About david fernández

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