Eric by Eric

My oldest memory of making music was when I was crawling up to the corner where stood the case of my sister’s guitar, forbidden to a toddler like me but having waited till I was alone in the house, nobody was going to stop me now. After I slowly opened the shiny clasps and opened the case I was struck by the intimate smell like an aphrodisiac of some wood fairy. There she was, majestically standing before me and like a servant to the queen I felt humble and filled with anxiety and admiration.

As in slow motion my right hand moved towards my favourite string, having observed my sister I knew which one had the warm deep sound. I can still feel the touch of the string against my thumb, the pressure on it and the moment of letting go

BAAAOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmmmmmm

The sound resonated inside my body and lasted till my ears nearly dropped off my head. Reposing in the silence just staring into the hole I could not think what to do so I just slowly closed the case and crawled back to dream about one day playing the guitar. 

It took till I was a scared and confused little boy of 13 when my father bought me a Spanish guitar and put me on classical music lessons. My teacher Ronald Kieft  was a pretty cool guy but I think I do not submit very well to any teacher, feeling I can do it better alone. My name Eric means >he who rules alone< After the first months of interest I drifted away from the printed exercises and started to fool about by myself. My older sisters had introduced me to the music of the Beatles (I promise I will give back that tape one day!) and when after a year the lessons stopped my mother bought me a Beatle songbook (bless you mama) with pictures of the chords in it! There my self-study began, learning song by song from the fab four, a relationship that lasts till this day. Being a boy in Holland who did not even serve as goalpost I felt safe in my room with music world and my first gig was there, for my first girlfriend Wilma Blenheim and her two small brothers who all sat on my bed while I ploughed through the songs I managed to get my fingers around. 

At the age of 16 my youngest sister Petra pulled me out of my bedroom and pushed me onto the streets, where the rainbow ends and millions could be made. Aah, those were the days, beating out 4 chord Beatle songs, shouting at the top of my voice for at least half an hour before my throat hurt like mad and had to put plasters on my fingers to try it again a few days later. My sister gave up soon, disappointed I think by the very small reward for our effort but I found it a scary yet vivifying experience. It was a stage with complete artistic liberty (as no one listens anyway) and a great stimulant to learn and try out new songs. It gave me more confidence (or learned to not give a fuck) and when after a few years I coupled up with Marea, a young girl with a very gifted voice, we were on our way to become a class street act. Together we grew musically to our first gigs and even travelled together, on the road with a guitar and a sleeping bag. I had an electric guitar as well and played in some neighbourhood bands, it feels good to be part of a gang but always felt a bit frustrated musically. I felt and still do that I could learn faster if I played by myself.

Still my musical career would have stayed at amateur level if I had not been given the opportunity to enter the study Sonology at the Royal Conservatory in The Hague. There I was surrounded by music on a high level and learned the secrets behind the works of composers like J.S.Bach, Mozart, Beethoven and modern electronic composers like Karl Heinz Stockhausen. I had access to modern recording equipment and was given studio time, a scholarship and a free public transport card. I had every right to complain about the price of butter, surely. Strangely enough though, I walked around that music college for five years with my guitar on my back and yet never had a lesson. Instead I was trained for digital signal processing so mostly stared at depressing error messages on the computer screen. During graduation I was programming the computer with my guitar on my lap to give myself comfort whilst wondering through the maze of digital logic. I realized that to be happy I had to follow my bliss, that what makes my heart feel alive, which is making music. I promised myself that after I finished my study I would follow my heart and become a musician.

It is not easy to live as a musician in Holland so I rented a cheap small room in a farm just outside of town and got a cleaning job in a theatre-bar called PROVADJA, a place remarkably like IMAGINE, with a piano, live music and a location just as hard to find. Living like this I had time on my hands to learn more songs and look for gigs. Survived two winters and when the next summer came the troubadour in me felt the urge to migrate. Said goodbye to my parents and friends, did my last gig and set sail to who-knows. The first thing that happened as I walked towards the train station was my realization my guitar case felt rather light for I had forgotten to put my soul-companion in it! The first months were very wild, changing city almost every day and meeting so many people as music is definitely the bridge over the social gap modern society creates. Then I calmed down a bit, spend some months in Germany and on the islands Texel and Terschelling in the north of Holland. There I found out that tourism is the means to make a living for a musician like myself. Now I don’t know how I survived during the time I was travelling around, busking in front of stations and terraces, learning to live on very little money. Playing for tourists is great, they’re amazed the first time they hear you and about the time they get bored of the same jokes and tricks they leave to come back maybe half a year later to repeat the whole process!

But the work there is seasonal so when another winter was glooming round the corner I bought a ticket to “anywhere sunny where the tourists grow”. The girls in the travel agency send me to Gran Canaria. This must have been in 1995 or so but I was living in rainbowland where time is not a number but an experience, man, yeah, know what I mean, man! It was a bit of a shock to see so many neon signs for jewellery and electronic shops, Irish and gay bars and after the first exciting weeks I soon got annoyed with the soulless money grabbing feeling of the places I played in so I returned to play the streets, but there it wasn’t the same as in northern Europe and soon I saw myself facing breadline.

That’s when I met Jose Luis, a Spanish well seasoned musician and we hit the streets together which was great fun and a bit more lucrative. He talked about Fuerteventura being the land of the muses so as soon as I managed to save a bit of money I said goodbye to Jose Luis (only to meet a year later and continue our musical tour-du-force to this very day) and took to the neighbouring island. The first impression was so pleasant and relaxing and after I spend all my money (20 euros) on three nights in a hostel it was time to get some gigs. The first place I walked into was the Rock Island Bar which had just been refurbished with a tiny stage and were waiting for a musician to come by. I would not have believed then that I would spend seven very happy years playing in the bar of Gary & Mandy. The atmosphere inside the place is warm and cosy and as it’s a small bar that is easy to fill up and entertain. During those years I grew in expertise and confidence but to all good things come an end.

Playing in a bar is about entertainment and I do have a serious side that likes classical music and slow jazz and such. To get this music out I started to play in the restaurant Celtic Manhattan, run by Larbi & Katherine. They made me feel very welcome and after a while I preferred to play in their place instead of Rock Island. I made my decision to move after I fell off my bicycle (I still don’t drive a car) and realized that by just playing in a bar on a daily basis was alright as long as you’re fit and sane but as soon as you’re not, you’re out. So I went to Larby and Kathy to propose a partnership and IMAGINE was born. After a month of refurbishing the restaurant was transformed into a bar but after some months it was obvious that it wasn’t a very financially interesting adventure and the place was up for sale. The Chinese lurked round the corner and I had to do something as I did love the stage I build for myself.

Thank God Gell, a dear friend of mine came round with the goodwill money and we found ourselves at business, funny situation for two hippies. As Gell is still bound in Liverpool because of her family and work, most practicalities came on my shoulders and I don’t think I’ve ever worked so hard in my life. Nevertheless I am not a business man and I never will be so it is nothing less than a miracle that the place is still alive and getting better during time. This is mainly because another friend, Chris came along to help me with the busymess side and showed what it is like to think practically. This website is also one of his doings. IMAGINE is both mine and Gel’s dream in the way that it is a place where people get together for the sake of music, no matter your nationality, race or religion. Also I created a more sit-down concert situation as I’m fed up with places where all they want is musical wallpaper. Now I’ve got a perfect environment to express the music that I love even though I’m a bit guilty of underplaying my own compositions as I do like to please the audience and let’s face it, my own stuff isn’t half as good as any Beatles song. Together with the luxurious and relaxed lifestyle of the island make me love living and working in the bar and I wouldn’t change it for the life of me even though sometimes me & Chris & Gell work like volunteers because the money has never been plentiful. So don’t come to me with things like ‘you’d make a million…’ because I just don’t care. My ambitions lie towards the health and happiness of my two daughters, Melody & Shana and my own sanity which I derive from my sailing boat Maya (the veil of illusion) and my creativity in music

I think I started to play music not only for the love of songs, but also as it soothed my loneliness. Playing massages the heart, singing especially feels that way. Later it brought me social contact so again it helped my lonesome pathfinder feeling I carried within me for a long time. Furthermore by healing yourself you heal others and many thank me after a night of playing in such a manner. I’ve never grown tired of playing but have become weary of the situation in which it occurs. I feel music is a magic, almost sacred art of communication although most people think a performing musician is like their television set. Every night I get a chance in IMAGINE to play the best I can and I love each and every song. You’re invited to join and share this experience with me. SALUD!