Bob Wiseman

He became a janitor gradually, reluctantly, and after exhausting all fantasies involving sudden recognition. For years he had assembled a life from coffeehouse gigs, teaching lessons, wedding receptions, and the […]

For most of his career he understood the boundaries of his instrument. He built a modest reputation on conviction. His voice carried the weathered authority audiences expected from a middle-aged […]

The booking agent had spent thirty years predicting public taste. She knew which singer-songwriters could fill two hundred seats in Peterborough on a Thursday and which folk trios would fail […]

The harmonica player first noticed his ability during a terrible gig in Medicine Hat. Halfway through a slow blues in E, he suddenly knew with complete certainty a waitress near […]

The bassist had an unusual reputation in the music community. He never lied. If someone played beautifully, he said so. If someone played badly, he said so. If a song […]

He told audiences he was thrilled to be in cities he could barely locate on a map. He lied up and down simultaneously. Told managers he believed in projects he […]

After a week she noticed something else. Leonard, the opening act, did not only copy material. He copied confidence. Or tried to. The gestures were there but the gravity behind […]

The accordionist believed for years that exhaustion was simply part of musicianship. Late-night polka gigs. Weddings where drunk uncles demanded encores. Endless driving across Ontario with coffee as both fuel […]