Florida is a great place for one of my all-time favorite noble pursuits, that of street busking. I spent much of my "lost years" during the 1980s bashing out primitive Creeps Music on a cheap out-of-tune guitar for many bewildered passersby across this great nation, and Florida was one of the most welcoming states.
Submitted here for your approval, friend, are just a couple of examples.
Pictured above are The Garbage Men, a young band of primitive wild-boys eking out some of the most wonderful Creeps Music on the planet. There's a youtube video of them here performing what I think may be a free-jazz cover of "A Hard Day's Night" but it's hard to discern through the fog and the frenzy and the froth.
And then there's "Blues". That's his name. Just "Blues."
This street musician was playing some delightfully atonal Captain Beefheart-like avant-garde jams at St. Armand's Circle when I encountered him awhile back. I asked him his name and he said, "just call me Blues". I'm not sure if he has multiple pieces in his repertoire, or he just does the same skrawk-boing-kachunka routine all day long - he was flying high on the same riff for at least twenty minutes while I observed him.
I do believe it's time once again to put on my busking hat, obtain a license (like that ever stopped me before) and begin a new golden age of caterwauling at Canadian tourists. And maybe even bring my barely-ever-existed lo-fi lo-talent band The JSH Combo back to shambling life, powered that by especial bolt of lightning that the Sunshine State provides. Don't say I didn't tell you so.
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