27 years of busking in The Loop

By Paul Howard Alpert

Here I am in front of Vintage Vinyl, busking once again.

As with most endeavors in life, busking is a mixed bag. What do I most dislike about doing it? Gnats. They love to fly around my mouth as I sing on hot days. And today is a hot day. Only a few people stop and listen. But there are deep pleasures: people that tell me their day was a shit sandwich before they heard me play. I’m used to being ignored and adored all in the space of an afternoon.

I would say the main reason I busk is financial. Beyond that, it’s sharing with the world skills I’ve spent 30,000 hours crafting and honing. Nonetheless, most people don’t even acknowledge there is live music happening right in front of them, and most people don’t even look my way.

“I really enjoyed your solo. But next time, could you play it so low that I don’t have to hear it?” – musician Mike Willis

I find the indifference strange, an indifference that has grown over the decades. Sometimes I ask myself if it’s me or my music. Of course, one never really knows what lies between the ears of another person. Nowadays, virtually everybody is glued to their phones and has zero situational awareness. There’s that, plus fewer people carry cash now.

I’m thankful for the people who do stop and listen, so I give them my best. Every time I pick up a guitar, I give 100 percent. Every note is important – I do not phone it in.

.   .   .   .   .

It’s been a good two hours since I started writing this, playing songs in-between. Slow day, no crowd, two bucks in the case. I start thinking about wrapping it up and trying on another day. Then a guy named Josh stops and listens. We have a good conversation, and there’s another dollar in the case. A couple dances to my version of an Allman Brothers tune: Ten more bucks for me.

I remember a particularly gratifying busking experience. One day, a mother and her 8-year-old son, Elliot, walked by and smiled at me. I smiled back. A few minutes later, they were back. The boy was carrying a Mason jar filled with change. “His piggy bank,” the mom said. Elliot emptied it into my case. I was more than moved. Acts like that give me hope for this planet.

I remember playing out on a scorching day. I was super broke and there were zero dollars in the case. A middle-aged, bearded chap pulls out his wallet and hands me a $100 bill! From broke to food in the fridge in one generous act. I was so heartened by his kindness that I gave him a hug. “You’re welcome – and you sound good,” he said.

Back in 2017, I busked at the Chuck Berry statue on the day of his funeral. His hearse passed by as I played. His nephew came by that day, and we had a great conversation. The small area around the statue has since been designated as a park, and busking in U City parks is not allowed.

Paul’s love of the guitar started very early.

Better together

I often play solo, but finding random people I can have a musical conversation with is the mountaintop. Some musicians only want to play solo. I guess they think, “More players, less pie.” I have found that audiences like more music per square foot and that more money rolls in with more players.

I’ve been blessed to have jammed in The Loop with some great players, such as Josiah, a phenomenal 19-year-old trumpet player, and Darian, an exceptional 25-year-old violinist. No words were spoken. Instead, we had a musical dialogue. That’s the beauty of music. As someone in his sixth decade of life, it is a real treat to play with young musicians. We serve the song, and age is not a factor.

One of the worst things that’s happened is when I was playing with a dude named Steve. We were having a good time, and the music was flowing. Two teens scope us out, then one of them steals our large tip jar, filled with about 40 bucks. They ran off like antelope. It left such a bad taste in my mouth, I didn’t return to The Loop for a good six months.

U City’s stance on busking has evolved over the years. Before March 2020, the rules changed slowly until it was not allowed at all. My head would spin from the contradictory info I would receive from the cops. Since COVID, the U City government seems to have realized how much street performers add to The Loop, providing a vibe that makes it a unique place to visit.

. . .

The sun is setting. My fingertips are humming from pressing on the guitar strings. I guess it’s time to pack up.

Adios, gnats!

*     *     *

In case you’re harboring a busking dream, here’s some advice from Paul:

• Don’t leave a lot of cash in the case – it’s too tempting for thieves.

• Keep your back to the wall, so no one can catch you unawares from behind.

• Don’t ask for a penny. You’re a street performer, not a beggar. People will give what they want to give.

• Be gracious, even in the face of indifference.

• Always play with gusto and passion.

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Paul Alpert has created works in photography, fine art, paper collage, sculpture, filmmaking and music. His art and photography has been shown in St. Louis and Chicago galleries. While working in film production for 20 years, Paul was a writer/director, set dresser, art director, production designer and actor. Among many other roles, Paul was a set dresser for rapper Nelly’s videos Country Grammar, Midwest Swing and Summer in the City; writer/director of short films Polarity, Arcade Bowl and Pushin’ Ink; character actor in 15 independent films, and an extra in the films Planes, Trains and Automobiles and Larger than Life.

As a solo singer/songwriter and as the singer and guitarist of his band, 3, Paul performed hundreds of shows in and around St. Louis, including three at the Sheldon Concert Hall. He has released six albums. 

Paul lives in University City with his wife Lynn and his cat Tenacious C.

Learn more about Paul at https://www.reverbnation.com/paulhalpert

Editor’s Note: I often listen to buskers, particularly in the University City Loop and at Soulard Farm Market. Some people stop and listen, most walk by. I almost always stop. Even when the music isn’t great, I pop a buck or two in the jar. Why? Because I admire the performers’ gumption: they stand mere feet from their audiences and create. I want to encourage that kind of outward behavior because I’m a fan not only of live music but of street life — and buskers really add to the scene.