April 24th - Day 6

I was very clear.

"Will there be songs?" I asked my daughter, Daisy, who is three, on the way to her Friday morning toddler session.

"Yes," she said, "I need a wee."

We'd been there half an hour, but despite there still being a full ninety minutes to go, I was already getting itchy. The couple of times I'd been to these kind of events before, I'd rather dreaded the musical interlude, but today I was on the edge of my seat at any movement by Yvonne the helper towards any cupboards that may contain any tamberines, marraccas and triangles. About an hour in, I again asked Daisy if they sang songs.

"I want a chocolate biscuit," she said.

With half an hour remaining and hope fading fast I pumped Daisy for answers one last time.

"Do they have songs?"

"Yes."

"At the end?"

"Yes. I want to go home."

But we stayed to the bitter end. As the last of the mess was swept away I thanked Yvonne - although I wanted to say "Why didn't you sing any bloody songs?" She said goodbye to me and Daisy, then added, "It's nice that Daisy stayed to the end this week, because she doesn't usually".

So penance for Daisy for stringing me a web of lies was to get the train to London and scour the South Bank for a musician. I had to buy some cheese in Borough Market first and then, Daisy on my shoulders, we wandered along the hot, busy walkway alongside the river, past The Golden Hind, The Clink, The Anchor Pub...The Globe.

We were approaching The Tate Modern and The Millenium Bridge, and I was beginning to wonder whether Boris Johnson had banned buskers, when I heard a steel pan and saw this guy half way up the Millenium Bridge ramp. We watched him until Daisy asked to walk across the bridge. She put some money in his case and we left.

An original intention of mine was to interact in some way (talking I believe it is called) with the buskers I come across on my journey. I'm yet to be that courageous, though my cause isn't helped by the fact that these musicians tend to be occupied with playing music when I encounter them. I'd like to find out more about this guy. Maybe he'll be there another day.

(He was. Lots of other days. He's called Gavin and has been busking around here since 1985)

2011 update - I've seen Gavin in his usual spot over the past two years though haven't passed that way for a few months so not sure if he's definitely still there

April 25th - Day 7

Yee-ha!!! Peruvian musicians on Peckham Rye Common at one o'clock!!

"Quite a bit of rythym, like they mean it," said Howard, who I'd bumped into. "365 days of live music? That's the sort of thing that could change your life," said Clare, who was with him.

I noted the name on the blackboard of events - Sofia Buchuck - and looked her up later on Google. Turns out she's renowned and I wish I'd stayed longer, but I had to get Oliver, my nine year old, to his musical drama dancey class thing.

sofiabuchuck.co.uk

2014 - 5 years on - currently preparing for a forthcoming performance at The Poetry Cafe on May 12th.

https://twitter.com/SofiaBuchuck

April 26th - Day 8

My third day in a row of working my new musical adventure around full-time childcare coincided with The London Marathon, which was a good thing. The route was lined with live musical entertainment of many sorts.

I chose to take the kids to the Rotherhithe Roundabout to see the South London Jazz Orchestra. We got there just before the leading men dashed through, but within half an hour the road was chocked full of people who weren't running quite as first and we could hardly see the Orchestra at all, so we watched the runners instead.

We were there for an hour and the SLJO played Glenn Miller and other numbers from the swing era the whole time and I guess they played more of the same for several hours after. According to their website they are a "group of dedicated musicians from many different backgrounds and of a wide range of ages. The principal aim of SLJO is to promote jazz music in the community and have as much fun as possible while doing so."

2014 - 5 years on - SLJO were back at the London Marathon (albeit a couple of weeks earlier).

April 27th - Day 9

"I'm not feeling very well," said Oliver on the morning of my first child-free music-hunting day since Thursday, "I don't think I should go to school."

He looked alright to me and I demanded proof, several small pieces of which he duely provided whilst bent over the toilet.

But all was not lost; I had already been audience to a musical performance before Oliver's unhelpful vomiting. Completely out of the blue, Daisy asked me if she could sing me a song. She sang me four in the end (Cheeky Monkeys, Baa Baa Black Sheep, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and Once I Caught A Fish Alive). I had intended to use The Daisy Wild Card at some point - only to be used once of course - but not this early. However, the performance's complete spontaneity and its serendipitous timing persuaded me that the card had to be played now.

May 8th - Day 20

Three days ago Oliver brought home his script for this morning's assembly - a short play about Vikings.

There were some lines highlighted in green - I think they were Oliver's - but more crucially at the bottom of page one were the words "SONG Viking Warriors" and on page two "SONG Viking Boats".

"Hey," I said, "There's songs."

"I'm the Chief Viking," said Oliver.

"And there's songs," I said.

"No," he said.

"It says songs."

"No, we're not doing the songs."

"Why not?"

"Because we didn't want to do them."

I suggested to Oliver that he and his classmates may like to re-consider this decision. When he proved unwilling to heed my suggestion, I demanded to know who was in charge and he told me it was his teacher.

And so the assembly has passed off without music and what with Daisy's toddler group also, yet again, failing to deliver, I now need to pick Oliver up from his choir practice ten minutes early...

Choir did good - soaring version of Bill Withers' "Lovely Day"

May 9th - Day 21

London Big Bang Drum Circle - part of World Fair Trade Day. At The Scoop, next to City Hall.

May 10th - Day 22

East Dulwich Goose Green Fair, 11-4.

Live Music (and other things). Hurray.

Under 9s football kick off, 12.30. Bollocks.

In Bexleyheath. Bollocks.

Get to the fair at 2.30, two children and their Grandma in my slipstream.

Music on a PA. Hurray.

The green cluttered with people and trestle tables laden with the wares of East Dulwich (olives, ethnic cushions...that kind of thing). Pushing through. Daisy on my shoulders. Oliver wants to go on the bouncy castle.

An empty stage with nobody on it. A dj. Bollocks. "Live music's finished".

Daisy wants to go on the bollocks bouncy castle. There's a massive queue. Oliver wants a bastard ice cream. Grandma wants a spinach tart. Daisy wants to go on a donkey.

Are they singing donkeys? No. They just walk up and down don't they. And children sit on them. They can neither sing nor play a musical instrument. Daisy queues for a donkey with Grandma.

Oliver and I eat free cheese. We walk back to the talentless donkey queue. Past a white tent.

I hear singing...or chanting..."Nam-Myoho-Renge-Kyo...Nam-Myoho-Renge-Kyo"...

That'll do.

June 6th - Day 49

The brilliant Dulwich Ukulele Club at the Athenlay Football Club end of season presentation day. The photo, as if one needs reminding of these things, starkly portrays children effected by the lethal cocktail of ukulele and cake. myspace.com/thedulwichukuleleclub

June 19th - Day 62

These guys making a big noise on the steps of St Paul's Cathedral are Bang On! - "an energetic junk percussion duo who use a huge homemade drum kit to provide funky beats and rhythmic treats" bangon.net. They were the concluding entertainment to the City of London Festival (colf.org) opening procession.

Daisy, my three-year old, found their beats and treats a little too noisy for her liking, so we didn't hang around for long. She told me she prefered Twinkle Twinkle Little Star sung quietly.

June 24th - Day 67 (afternoon)

...And so Daisy and I turned up at the appointed hour beside the Camberwell Piano (conveniently situated next to a playground) to see the Camberwell Complaints Chorus. But the buggers weren't there. Still, at least I know where to complain. We bumped into my friend Charlie on the way. Charlie, very thoughtlessly, has spent his life not learning how to play the piano and so was unable to be a substitute for the Camberwell Complaints Chorus. And Daisy, quite apart from the fact that she also hasn't bothered to learn the piano, has already featured in my quest (Day 9) and so is rendered unsuitable. I played a few notes of "Doe a deer", or whatever it's called, and Charlie kindly suggested that would count. But I knew I'd only be cheating myself if I followed his advice. Someone watching asked whether she had to pay. I don't know if she meant to listen or to play.
And then I had to take Daisy home and go out again later...

June 26th - Day 69

When my nine-year old son Oliver woke up this morning, and I told him that Michael Jackson had died, he gasped and said, "Who's going to be the next King of Pop?!" I can't remember who he suggested now - I'll ask him later.

It wasn't immediately obvious that the happy and cheering crowd of people gathered at the bottom of The National Gallery steps in Trafalgar Square that evening, holding aloft mobile phones and cameras, were fans of the late King of Pop. Their focus of attention turned out to be a couple of guys trapped in their midst and performing Jackson dance moves to pass the time before they could get out again. The bass line of "Beat It!" could just about be heard above the whooping. This wasn't the only group of Michael Jackson fans in the Square - the whole top piazza in front of the Gallery was bustling with tribute-goers. I bumped into two friends of mine, Anna and Kim, who'd come along because they'd seen the impromptu event advertised on line. They were expecting to come across a little more than two blokes dancing to a tape recorder, though maybe things perked up later. Singing was frustratingly sporadic.................

more coming!

June 27th - Day 70

Oliver and Mehdi's James Brown wig out. Followed by a session standing around the old laptop googling lyrics and singing Michael Jackson, Black Eyed Peas and WWE entrance themes.
What started as a tentative effort to shoehorn any kind of live music into the day, turned into a bon-fide improvised fifteen minute performance. The knowledge that, at a time when I'm finding it quite hard to justify continuing with the project, it was the project that instigated the music, enriched the moment with extra feelgood.

July 11th - Day 84

One of the features of this project that I have been impressing upon willing listeners is that most music I have seen has been free. Over the 84 days negotiated thus far, I have coughed up compulsary money only ten times. This free-ness, however, is an illusion. Today my children and I went to The Goose Green Primary and Nursery School Summer Carnival and watched a few pupils drumming. That was free. What wasn't free were the Thomas The Tank Engine ride, the bouncy castle, the ice creams, the other Thomas The Tank Engine ride, the jerk pork and the other things that cost money. Our forty minutes of Carnival fun costed me twenty quid. But we did have fun. And I bumped into some friends I hadn't seen in a while. And I saw some drumming.

July 18th - Day 91

July 19th - Day 92

These people in Brockwell Park at The Lambeth Country Fair are The Top Cats. Not the five people and one dog sitting down in front. Nor the children gleefully tossing a small child on the right of the picture (click for closer view). The Top Cats are the musicians on the distant stage who caused Daisy, who was on my shoulders when the photo was taken, to yell, "It's too loud!!" and then, "Animals!!". The latter remark wasn't a complaint directed at The Top Cats, but a reminder to me that she wanted to see the Polish chickens. It could appear to be a recurring feature of this blog that any encounter with music whilst in the company of Daisy is curtailed by her complaints that the music is too loud, too noisy or too musicky. I'd like to point out that this attitude pre-dates the project.

The Top Cats, by the way, are a dynamic multi-musicianed ska combo who I would very much like to see again when they're not having to compete with the attractions of fairground rides and small, feathery Polish farm animals.

July 25th - Day 98

"Crystal Palace Has Got Talent" part of the Crystal Palace Triangle Free Festival

August 6th - Day 110

Today was one of those happy days that gifted me my music experience completely out of the blue. A school holiday trip to the park was delayed by news that there was a children's show about to start in the local library. The show turned out to be a music jamming session led by the Rock and Roll Pirates - Andi on Yamaha organ and Didntcatchhisname on vocals and drums. A vast array of child-friendly percussive and wind instruments were laid on the floor in front of them for their young audience to choose from. As the Pirates grooved through their Booker T/Chas and Dave-esque set (I particularly enjoyed their pub rock version of "Ten little pirates jumping on the bed - oi!!"), seven or eight children and a couple of adults bashed, shook and blew in accompaniment. By the time our hour with the personable duo was up, the kids had karaoked, taken part in a dance competition and had drumming lessons from Didntcatchhisname. It came as no surprise to learn that these two very accomplished musicians had rather more on their CVs than providing musical fun for the under twelves. Andi (also a composer), for instance, has played and/or recorded with Jeff Beck, Judie Tzuke, Toyah and David Bowie amongst many others. I didn't find out much about the other chap, who I shall now call Didntcatchhisnameanddidntfindoutmuchabouthim.

More about Andi (Clark) at myspace.com/467282281

Update - Through my involvement with The Ivy House, aka the Newlands Tavern, I discovered that Andi played there back in the 1970s with the band Upp. One of their album sleeves now adorns the musical wall of honour!

August 10th - Day 114

I'm not sure what this guy made of Daisy and me. Due to circumstances beyond our control I had a fifteen minute round-trip window to find music along a half mile stretch of the South Bank. I tore along the path with Daisy in my arms as if we'd just escaped from somewhere. The merry-go-rounds on the other side of Hungerford Bridge were in my sight, but not yet in Daisy's, as we came to the point where I was going to have to turn around very soon. Then I spotted this accordian player at the top of the stairs that turn right onto the footbridge over the river. "Look! An accordian player!" I said to Daisy as twenty colourful wooden horses whirled and bobbed fifty yards further on. "Oh yeah," she said. And we strode to the top of the steps, gave the man some money, took a photo and stood next to him for three minutes. Then we went back the way we had come with as much urgency as with which we had arrived.

August 11th - Day 115

A trip with the children to Southwark Cathedral today to see a free flute and guitar recital. Well, I put a couple of quid into the collection of course. And it cost me £4.50 to get up town, and another £3 parking in Peckham for four hours. Then there was the £25 I spent on lunch. And the £10 it cost us to visit The Golden Hinde as my reward for making them sit through ten minutes of music. When we passed the Cathedral before lunch Daisy burst into tears and sobbed, "I don't want to see the music!!" Once inside the building later on however, both Daisy and Oliver enjoyed the pre-music wandering about and we only had to leave the recital because Daisy was humming too loudly.

September 2nd - Day 137

Oliver and I went to the Tower Bridge Exhibition today. Afterwards we walked along the North Bank alongside the Tower and then weaved our way through the City streets to the base of The Gherkin, because Oliver wanted to have a close-up look. After remarking that it was small and wouldn't it be funny if it turned out to be a real gherkin, he followed me to Bishopsgate and over London Bridge. I was kind of hoping we might encounter some music somewhere on our journey, but wasn't surprised that we didn't and so, for maybe the last time for a while, the South Bank came to my rescue. We walked down Nancy's steps at the side of the bridge, past Southwark Cathedral, The Golden Hinde, The Clink Museum, The Anchor pub and as we approached where the path turns and dips under Southwark Bridge, we heard beautiful operatic music. We got under the bridge just as two women stopped singing and bowed to fifteen applauding watchers. They started another piece (which I recognised, but am unable identify) and hadn't got far when two uniformed South Bank Rangers interrupted them. Some cloth-eared, mouse-pushing Philistines from one of the local offices had complained about the music and these two had to tell the women, Elizabeth and Alison, to stop. But they loved the music and were loathe to tell them. Watching the scene unfold without being able to hear the words, the Rangers (Charles and David) looked like fans gushing praise after a concert. I got closer and, bearing in mind the multitude of musicians I've seen busking undisturbed along here over the past few months, asked whether it was regular policy to move people on. Apparently it is, though maybe, I think, only when a complaint is received. I didn't get around to taking a photo until after the performance and ended up only with the shaky image above. Still, at least the complaint wasn't lodged five minutes earlier or I would have missed Elizabeth and Alison altogether.