Bob Wiseman

A blinking biped in the age old tradition of song and dance.

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By two in the morning Eddie had played forty minutes of music, sold three CDs, lost his phone charger and agreed to sleep in the basement of a man named […]

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There was a guitarist who became frightened of wrong notes. When he was young he played thousands of them and didn’t care. Later, when people began calling him serious, it […]

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There was a musician who travelled from teacher to teacher asking how to find his voice, although he already possessed a voice and used it constantly to explain that he […]

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There was a guitarist named Stanley who could play anything except what people wanted him to play, which made him either an artist or unemployed depending which side of the […]

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Avram believed a chord existed containing the secret architecture of creation. He had heard this from an old cantor in Vilnius who had heard it from a violinist in Kraków […]

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A musician named Lena was afraid of herself. This was difficult to explain. Wherever she went the person she feared arrived at the same time. She could avoid difficult promoters, […]

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Halfway through making his record, Marlon developed carpal tunnel. He blamed the piano, then the computer, then age, then the piano again. His wrist hurt when he played octaves. Occasionally […]

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Shirley began as a kid on an ordinary clarinet. It appeared in school bands. It had music written specifically for it. Her parents understood what it was, more or less. […]

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Every night brought a different mattress, different pillow, and a different mysterious light blinking near the television. For years he slept wherever tours put him. Motels beside highways, promoters’ basements […]