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1989: A Musicology Anthology

#1047523 added June 11, 2023 at 2:04am
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Welcome to New York

As the plane made its final descent into John F. Kennedy International Airport, Riley felt the butterflies in her stomach flutter to life. Golden afternoon sun illuminated the seemingly endless sprawl of the Five Boroughs far below. She gaped at the skyscrapers reaching toward the heavens; any one of them probably had more people inside than the entire population of her hometown back in Holyoke, Colorado. After an entire childhood stuck in small town America, she was ready for a new life in New York.

She collected her suitcase and her guitar from baggage claim and met her Uber out on the curb of the pickup zone. She marveled at the sights of Queens as they drove down the Long Island Expressway and continued onto the Brooklyn Queens Expressway en route to their final destination of Williamsburg, Brooklyn.
Riley had kept in touch with a former high school acquaintance, Nova, who had moved out to New York right after graduation, and was allowing Riley to crash on her couch for two weeks until she could line up a place of her own. Riley had spent the extra years at home saving up, figuring she’d need at least six months’ rent, utilities, and living expenses to get herself properly set up with a day job, workable roommate situation, et cetera, while she embarked on her music career.

Not that she hadn’t already embarked on her music career; she’d been playing open mic nights back home for years at this point. But this move to New York was the next step in taking herself seriously as an artist and a professional musician.

Despite frequent reminders that New York apartments were tiny and old, Riley found herself taken aback by Nova’s place and the living situation she had agreed to. The couch was more of a loveseat, as the living area couldn’t accommodate anything larger before it ran into the kitchenette. Riley’s suitcase took up almost all of the space between the couch and the television stand, but there was no room to put it anywhere else unless she planned to store it on top of the small square folding table they were using for eating. Nova shared the tiny closet-sized bedroom with another girl she worked with, and their modest belongings took up every free inch of space in the apartment. Riley started to feel claustrophobic the minute Nova closed the front door, and the other roommate wasn’t even home at the moment.

The one thing the apartment did have going for it, however, was a large window in the living area that looked west toward the city. And thanks to the apartment being a top-story walkup, if Riley stood on her tiptoes, she could see the very top points of the Williamsburg Bridge over the roofline of the building across the street. The lights were already starting to twinkle in the encroaching darkness.

“Welcome to New York,” Nova said by way of greeting. “You’ve got the couch for two weeks, as promised. Anything more than that and my roommate said we have to charge you a hundred bucks a week after that.”

“Not a problem,” Riley said, “I really appreciate you guys letting me crash with you.”

“Sure,” Nova replied, handing her a spare key. “I gotta get ready for work. Make yourself at home or feel free to explore the city a little bit. I’m closing tonight, so I’ll be home around three a.m. Sophie will probably be home around midnight.”

Riley didn’t want to be cooped up in the tiny apartment any more than she had to and, with the entirety of the City that Never Sleeps in front of her, decided to go out and explore. She made her way down to Domino Park on the shore of the East River, enjoying her first slice of authentic New York pizza while she sat on a park bench just under the Williamsburg bridge and looked across the river to the highrises of Manhattan’s East Village, less than a mile away.

As she sat on her bench and enjoyed the view, she heard the sound of someone playing a guitar somewhere over near the dog run. Polishing off the last of her pizza, Riley tossed her trash into a nearby can and wandered over to find a street musician doing an acoustic cover of Jay-Z and Alicia Keys’ “Empire State of Mind.” She watched with rapt attention as he effortlessly recited Jay-Z’s rap vocals, and gave the Alicia Keys chorus a little bit of a country twang.

In New York
Concrete jungle where dreams are made of
There’s nothing you can’t do
Now you’re in New York
These streets will make you feel brand new
Big lights will inspire you
Let’s hear it for New York
New York, New York

Riley was struck with the sudden realization that this guy might be one of the most talented musicians she’d ever heard. Certainly better than anyone at any of the open mic nights she’d ever played back home. And if a regular street musician here in New York seemed twice, thrice, four times as talented as anyone else she’d ever known, what chance did she stand of breaking out and having a music career of her own? She approached the musician and dropped the change from her pizza dinner into his open guitar case, where it joined a handful of other crumpled bills and loose coins. He nodded at her appreciatively and she half-heartedly smiled back before turning away and heading back to the apartment.

She had planned on just going to bed and letting the exhaustion take her, but rather than settling in for the night on the couch, she instead grabbed her guitar and headed up to the roof. There was an access doorway at the end of the hall, and someone had long since broken the lock to allow access. Based on the number of cigarette butts and empty bottles littered around, the rooftop was a popular place for tenants to get some fresh air and stretch out beyond the confining walls of their claustrophobic apartments.
Riley leaned against one of the ancient air conditioning units and looked out over the Williamsburg Bridge and the East River in the distance. She strummed her guitar and picked up the song that the street musician in the park had been playing.

Yellow cab, gypsy cab, dollar cab, holla back
For foreigners it ain’t fair, they act like they forgot how to act
Eight million stories, out there in the naked
City is a pity, half of y’all won’t make it

Trailing off, Riley wondered if she had what it took to make it. There were so many people with stories of never getting their shot, of struggling for years or even decades to make a name for themselves in a city that minted celebrities but where you were competing with literally millions of other hopefuls. Many of whom, as Riley discovered today, were just as talented - if not more talented - than you.

But she could either spend her time worrying about the things she didn’t have any control over, or she could do whatever she could to prepare herself to take the shot when an opportunity presented itself. That meant she had to get to work.

Her story was going to be a success story.

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