I was in the wrong place, but it must have been the right time. Doug and I performed at a small festival near Spijkerboor in the Netherlands this past weekend called Festival Wilderness Songs. I thought, “Whoo hoo! We’re playing a festival!” I was envisioning big CD sales and the thrill of wooing a large new audience.
Basically, we played a set in someone’s large backyard to a modest crowd who mostly already owned my album. There was a nice, small covered stage, a tent for the listeners with lots of tables and chairs underneath, one concession stand, one booth with local treats, a barn full of chandeliers and knickknacks (the property owners are antique dealers), and a couple flags in the street acknowledging sponsors.
After the festival, we meandered over to Café ‘t Keerpunt, where I had performed during my last tour in the Netherlands with Abi Tapia and Charlie Faye, to have a drink and meet up with my friend Jan, our host for the night. We were immediately welcomed by a woman who ushered us into a lovely room with large tables draped in lavender-grey tablecloths. The young woman behind the bar asked if we had sung earlier that day, and I said yes, at the festival down the road. She poured us two dark, strong beers and said to sit anywhere.
It felt a little awkward – the square tables each sat about sixteen – but there were no stools at the bar, so we came to the same conclusion one reaches daily while touring abroad: “Okay, that’s just how it’s done here.” About ten minutes later, we were one third of the way through our beers, and a steady stream of older people who knew one another – but didn’t know us – started filling the room and seated themselves at every table but ours. Finally, a few of them came over to us and asked whose guests we were. D’oh!
As it turns out, we were crashing a party for a large senior choir who had just finished performing a string of concerts, singing a mix of classical pieces and select works of Queen (have you seen Young at Heart?). A friendly choir member chatted us up and urged us to stay and eat, joking we could sing for our supper, but his friend ratted us out to the choir president, and we made a hasty exit.
In the front room of the café, we found Willem, ‘t Keerpunt’s gregarious owner, behind the bar. He knew me immediately, which stunned me. He has my promo postcard behind the bar in a wax envelope, and my picture is framed on the wall. He balked at the tab I brought over from the private party, refused to let me pay for our drinks, and insisted I come back to perform again soon.
I am writing this in a beautiful, modern McDonald’s somewhere between the Hague and Utrecht. While mildly ashamed at the relief I feel seeing those ubiquitous arches from the highway, I find it’s the one place you’re guaranteed to find free Wi-fi and a clean bathroom with toilet seats that you don’t have to pay to use. Of course, it’s slightly embarrassing to visit America’s little hamburger colony while spending time in a mostly slow food culture. But at least you know what you’ll find.
BettySoo and Doug Cox are touring through Europe this spring and in the UK for several weeks in September. Both musicians tour year-round in North America and abroad to promote their project, Across the Borderline. Their new album, Lie to Me, comes out this summer.
This article appears in June 3 • 2011.