Dan Konisburg and Ryan Murry love music — so much that it’s not uncommon for them to burst into song, no matter where they are.
“Should we warm up with a song?” asks Dan as I step into his lower east side apartment, his 8-month old mini labradoodle, Marlee, begging me to throw his toy.
This is part of what defines Beggars and Scholars, the band they started more than 8 years ago as students in Emory University in Atlanta. Back at Emory, aside from playing in local bars and campus shows, they would play in an elevator or a stairwell – any forum that would allow them to do what they love. Now living in New York, they continue this tradition. Like the lonely musician/Hoover repairman singing his heart out in last year’s “Once,” they’ll set up on a street corner, just to play. One of their favorite places to play is Washington Square Park.
“I just love that place,” says Dan, whose grandfather grew up nearby the park. “I feel like there is so much history and culture.”
They’ve also played backyards (including my own), if the mood strikes, and a subway, if the car stalls.
“But not in that obnoxious way,” Dan is sure to point out. “We even rap about how we’re not singing to make money, just to entertain.”
Their unsuspecting audiences rarely complain, and it was in Washington Square Park where they met fellow bandmate, Nyelee, who began freestyling to their song, Beggars and Scholars.
“And we had just been thinking, wouldn’t it be cool if…” trails off Ryan.
They met the fourth bandmate Mitch Friedman, a New York University student at Press Toast, a restaurant on Macdougal Street, whom they credit for focusing the band’s energy and call an excellent songwriter.
“We’re a true New York story,” says Dan with a smile.
After graduating, they decided not to pursue music full time. Instead, Dan nurtured an idea that had come about his senior year: CampMinder, a web-based business management system that connects camps with parents, staff and alumni by allowing them to interact with the camp via a portal on the camp’s website. Aside from giving them the financial backbone to pursue music, the business has also opened up opportunities: camp events became venues for the musicians.
“They are loving it,” laughs Dan, showing a picture of five kids who painted “Nile” on their chests at a show/camp event.
“Marlee, no!” Dan interrupts himself, as Marlee leaps onto my lap and steals a pen.
One thing Dan has learned about business is not to launch a product until it is ready, which is why, as a band, they have been more than happy to take their time and give their music a chance to mature.
Their music is a combination of roots, folk, and pop. It sounds like a mix of Coldplay and Radiohead (though they are reluctant to categorize it as such, since they feel their music is so versatile). Throw in elements of funk, thanks to the freestyling effects of NyelLee.
One thing that stands out is the sensitive nature of their lyrics, which come from personal experience.
“They usually come from a personal situation. It’s therapeutic,” says Dan.
This may not seem particularly original for a musician, but listening to them, it’s impossible not to get caught up in the forceful harmony, with lyrics that sound like they are directed right at you.
“We want people to know they’re not alone in going through x, y or z,” says Ryan.
“I hate listening to songs without meaning,” adds Dan.
This search for meaning has kept them going through the ups and downs. Like any struggling band, they face obstacles: no manager. Nyelee happens to be in Ghana (Damn NyeLee, they say, with a headshake). Not to mention they lack a drummer, and are struggling to find their audience. But they have faith, and they have their own voice, remembering that most of their opportunities have fallen into their lap just when they needed it.
“We want to put a positive message out there,” says Dan. “There’s so much negativity, so much negative stuff in life, we want to put it in a positive way to help people.”
They cite Wasted Love as a good example of this. Like many of their songs, Wasted Love, is about the end of love:
“I almost gave it all away/To make you change your mind and stay/’Cause the world that is my life/Revolved around you.”
Though it’s a song about a break up, says Dan, there is a message not to lose heart and find inner strength.
“It’s about accepting something, even if you’re torn, and moving forward,” he says.
As for their own future, they hope to play more often (perhaps branching out from stairwells) and get their album together, which they have been recording. They recently sang at Bitter End in the West Village, and have over 100 songs recorded (enough to make four albums!) Until then, keep an eye on those street corners.
As they began to play a song off the album, Beautiful, even feisty Marlee rested his head on my knee and listened.
“Should we warm up with a song?” asks Dan as I step into his lower east side apartment, his 8-month old mini labradoodle, Marlee, begging me to throw his toy.
This is part of what defines Beggars and Scholars, the band they started more than 8 years ago as students in Emory University in Atlanta. Back at Emory, aside from playing in local bars and campus shows, they would play in an elevator or a stairwell – any forum that would allow them to do what they love. Now living in New York, they continue this tradition. Like the lonely musician/Hoover repairman singing his heart out in last year’s “Once,” they’ll set up on a street corner, just to play. One of their favorite places to play is Washington Square Park.
“I just love that place,” says Dan, whose grandfather grew up nearby the park. “I feel like there is so much history and culture.”
They’ve also played backyards (including my own), if the mood strikes, and a subway, if the car stalls.
“But not in that obnoxious way,” Dan is sure to point out. “We even rap about how we’re not singing to make money, just to entertain.”
Their unsuspecting audiences rarely complain, and it was in Washington Square Park where they met fellow bandmate, Nyelee, who began freestyling to their song, Beggars and Scholars.
“And we had just been thinking, wouldn’t it be cool if…” trails off Ryan.
They met the fourth bandmate Mitch Friedman, a New York University student at Press Toast, a restaurant on Macdougal Street, whom they credit for focusing the band’s energy and call an excellent songwriter.
“We’re a true New York story,” says Dan with a smile.
After graduating, they decided not to pursue music full time. Instead, Dan nurtured an idea that had come about his senior year: CampMinder, a web-based business management system that connects camps with parents, staff and alumni by allowing them to interact with the camp via a portal on the camp’s website. Aside from giving them the financial backbone to pursue music, the business has also opened up opportunities: camp events became venues for the musicians.
“They are loving it,” laughs Dan, showing a picture of five kids who painted “Nile” on their chests at a show/camp event.
“Marlee, no!” Dan interrupts himself, as Marlee leaps onto my lap and steals a pen.
One thing Dan has learned about business is not to launch a product until it is ready, which is why, as a band, they have been more than happy to take their time and give their music a chance to mature.
Their music is a combination of roots, folk, and pop. It sounds like a mix of Coldplay and Radiohead (though they are reluctant to categorize it as such, since they feel their music is so versatile). Throw in elements of funk, thanks to the freestyling effects of NyelLee.
One thing that stands out is the sensitive nature of their lyrics, which come from personal experience.
“They usually come from a personal situation. It’s therapeutic,” says Dan.
This may not seem particularly original for a musician, but listening to them, it’s impossible not to get caught up in the forceful harmony, with lyrics that sound like they are directed right at you.
“We want people to know they’re not alone in going through x, y or z,” says Ryan.
“I hate listening to songs without meaning,” adds Dan.
This search for meaning has kept them going through the ups and downs. Like any struggling band, they face obstacles: no manager. Nyelee happens to be in Ghana (Damn NyeLee, they say, with a headshake). Not to mention they lack a drummer, and are struggling to find their audience. But they have faith, and they have their own voice, remembering that most of their opportunities have fallen into their lap just when they needed it.
“We want to put a positive message out there,” says Dan. “There’s so much negativity, so much negative stuff in life, we want to put it in a positive way to help people.”
They cite Wasted Love as a good example of this. Like many of their songs, Wasted Love, is about the end of love:
“I almost gave it all away/To make you change your mind and stay/’Cause the world that is my life/Revolved around you.”
Though it’s a song about a break up, says Dan, there is a message not to lose heart and find inner strength.
“It’s about accepting something, even if you’re torn, and moving forward,” he says.
As for their own future, they hope to play more often (perhaps branching out from stairwells) and get their album together, which they have been recording. They recently sang at Bitter End in the West Village, and have over 100 songs recorded (enough to make four albums!) Until then, keep an eye on those street corners.
As they began to play a song off the album, Beautiful, even feisty Marlee rested his head on my knee and listened.
1 comment:
I had the opportunity to see Beggars and Scholars play a few times and they are awesome!
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