At the Government Center T-stop, Bob Kerr, aveteran street musician, is eager to take a breakfrom the microphone to share some stories of hislife. And what a life it is. Bob, by his ownadmittance, is a jack of all trades, dabbling inlandscaping, telecommunications, teachingharmonica, and exposing the corruption of cellphone carries in an upcoming Internet publication.Becoming increasingly animated with each anecdotethat pops into his head, Bob is no doubt eager tocapitalize on an audience that, for once, isn'tjust passively tuning in while waiting for thetrain.
His rambling monologue takes listeners on ajourney to his past homes in Florida, California,and then to his current residence, a farm inIpswich. The one constant through his adventures,though, is music. "My music is earthy, I do a lotof Neil Young songs; however, I like to keep upwith the times so I'm writing a lot or originalmusic that fits in with the 90s realm. My musichas to do with the earth and nature and what isgoing on in my life," says Kerr.
Kerr's interest in music was triggered at theearly age of 6 when he learned to play harmonica,a skill he still incorporates in his routine.Under the influence of his father, a "failedHollywood singer," Kerr suppressed his musicalinclinations to pursue a more conventional career,working at AT&T and a cellular communicationscompany. However, his passion bubbled under thesurface, until he finally decided to abandoncorporate life in favor of his true calling in1993.
"What happens is, people sense myentrpreneurial spirit, you know, I'm writing abook and stuff like that, and they get threatenedby that, and they don't hire me," Kerr explains."Because I'm not like a lot of other people, I'mnot going to lie in an interview and call myself acompany man. So I didn't get a job this winterbecause in my interviews I let them know what elseI do for income, and they were like this guy's notgoing to work for us, he's got too much else goingon. So they didn't hire me, so I said the hellwith it."
He points to a moment that convinced him thathappiness would only be found performing, "Iremember once in Salem, Mass., when they had thisChinese restaurant, and it was, like Waikiki, Ithink it was called. It was the booming 80s and itwas like the new club where all my friends hungout and stuff. And I remember my friend Ben was inthe audience and I wasn't in the band but therewas this all-Black band called `Friends' and theywere playing funk. And I can play funk on myharmonica so I said to them, `Hey, check it out!'"Kerr interrupts himself to offer the harmonicarift. "`All right,' he says, `you sound good.We'll call you up.' So I chugged a couple ofdrinks, I can't remember what I was drinking atthe time, I think it was rum, and all of a suddenI hear `Is there a harmonica player out there?'And I come running over the monitors, jump up onstage, grab the wireless mike and I just startedwailing. I remember the whole crowd moving in, Ifelt like Jon Bon Jovi or something."
Kerr waxes nostalgic about his earlierdays-before he "basically, kind of, quit smokingpot." One trip to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina wasparticularly memorable. "I was playing on one ofthose sidewalks, sitting next to someone on thecurb, and people started throwing money and jointsand stuff. I was, like, `Wow, I've got somethinghere.'" And Kerr recalls with fond-