It’s 10 PM on a Wednesday night and I’m walking across Bloor Street. On the weekends, this downtown strip is teeming with twenty-something year-olds barhopping, and late-night diners chatting in sushi joints. But on a weeknight, with school and work in the morning, the street is bare, with just a few homeless people and wanderers. The typical downtown sounds of shouts and horns are missing, and replacing them is unexpectedly beautiful music from the corner of Bloor and Bathurst.
In Toronto, there will seldom be a day that you don’t walk by a busker or street performer. Most of them specialize in shouting Bob Dylan lyrics to an out-of-tune guitar, but late-night busker, Adam*, brings a new and creative twist to street performance with his musical saw.
I met Adam while walking to the subway just past ten. From a few blocks away, I could hear the strange high-pitched melody, and it wasn’t until I turned the corner that I realized that the beautiful sound was coming from a store doorway. I couldn’t resist asking him about his music, about his instrument, and about his life. The look on his face when I requested an interview was one of vague disbelief as he responded, “I guess so…pull up a seat.”
The joke breaks the ice, and I sit down on a piece of sidewalk next to his set-up. His musical saw, an instrument I had never seen before, becomes the topic of conversation.
“It’s actually quite simple. Probably easier to learn then the guitar. I mean, I’m not a musician-I just like music, so it was a good instrument to learn. I saw one online a couple years ago, and ended up ordering it just as a joke. Glad I did, though, because I ended up with a after-hours job”.
He fools around with the violin bow in his hands, and plays something that sounds a little bit like Musetta’s Waltz. As he plays, I ask him about his “after-hours job”.
“I don’t do this for money. I have a job, during the day, I mean. There’s no way I could live off of the change I make from playing a musical saw, you know? Some people drop change, but most of them just walk by or chill and listen. Whatever though. It’s something to do at night. It’s almost just an excuse just to stay out late.”
From 9-5, Adam works a regular job as a salesperson in a midtown bookstore. After graduating from Guelph with a plan to be an architect, he ended up taking time off to work, which quickly extended into several years of retail and busking.
“Eventually I’ll go back to school. Or get a job that isn’t selling people paperback books. But right now, I’m young. I live with a group of guys, the rent is low…for Toronto, and we have a good time. And I love playing my weird music for the midnight people.”
Through his street performance evening hobby, Adam has been connected to a whole underground world of unsigned, self-taught musicians who play for pedestrians.
“Man, there’s a whole other world. People forget that music starts outside the studio. There’s this one old guy who plays sax here sometimes, and he’ll come over to me and just start jamming. It’s great. I have no idea what he does with his life, but he’s got a great sound. Trust me-it’s hard to just jam to a musical saw, but he does it.”
As we’ve been talking, a lone listener has stood by. Before walking away, he takes his camera out and snaps a photo of the two of us and drops a dollar into Adam’s hat. Adam explains to me, “People are fascinated by this thing. It’s just so weird looking. I guess everyone expects a street musician to play something conventional.”
As our conversation draws to a close, I ask Adam if I can take a photo of him. He agreed, but requested that I neither use the photo, nor his real name in my article. When asked why, he said with a joking smile, “I don’t want fans to swarm me.”
*Name has been changed.
