Standing on the street smoking a cigarette, a young man tries to bum one off me, but I don’t have the pack on me so I share it with him. We chit chat, some things he says are confusing and I assume he’s not all with it. We commiserate about being unemployed, he asks me “What are your dreams?” Kind of a deep question for 5 mins of chitchat. The kind of question only ever asked by people who have dreams of their own. It’s also the kind of aspirational sentiment you get in North America which I will never get used to. In my country we are more pragmatic, we don’t talk about dreams, we talk about actions.
So I ask what his dreams are and he mumbles something nonsensical. I ask what he does, he mumbles quietly ‘make music’. So inaudible I have to ask him to repeat it. I recognise this imposter syndrome. It’s hard to claim you’re a musician if it’s a struggle (and it always is). I tell him music is important but its a tough life – especially now that everyone expects music to be free. He replies “but the best things in life are free”. Again, one of those North American sentiments that gets drilled into people, so they don’t question the ethics of not getting paid properly to create music.
I say goodbye and tell him the world needs music so keep plugging in.
Hmm. lost little chap. I wonder if he will wind up here.