Vendor Spotlight

When Spoon Man plays, it’s a prayer with the city

BY JUSTIN WAGNER

“Now, these angel wings? They used to be horns. That didn’t go over so well with elderly people or young kids.”

You might recognize William Boyd, also known as Spoon Man, by the distinctive tattoo he’s referring to: a pair of wide, feathered wings atop his head, flanked by stars. It’s one of many designs Boyd carries on his skin, rendering his experiences and hopes in ink.

“I have a — well, I won’t call it a story. But I have an answer for every one of them.”

William Boyd

Photo by Justin Wagner

But despite the distinguishing look, anyone who’s met Boyd remembers him as much for what they hear as for what they see; whether that’s the rhythmic snap of spoons, the sunny pipes of his singing, or the old gospel music buzzing from his portable speakers.

Wherever Boyd goes, a performance always seems to follow. And that’s no accident, he said.

“If I’m singing or playing a gospel song, it’s a prayer. It’s a prayer,” he explained. “Whether it’s fast, slow, whatever — it’s still a prayer. Not just to the Lord, but for everybody who I think needs that prayer. From the homeless to the sick, the elderly… considering what I’ve been through in life, I am so blessed to have these gifts the Lord has given me.”

Boyd has struggled with drug addiction, physical disability, and lost close family over his 74 years. Though he said he’s never felt called to the ministry, he’s emboldened and shared his faith in God in his singing and in his spoons.

“I try to use them every day. Every day of my life.”

As well as spiritual, Boyd’s relationship to music is tactile and personal.

Though he learned to play the spoons decades ago, an ongoing struggle with neuropathy caused faltering dexterity in his hands. That didn’t stop him, of course — rather, he found perseverance therapeutic.

“I could only play so long, and then they’d just fall out of my hands, I wouldn’t even know it … so I developed a different style as I got older,” he said. “Music is my best medicine. Always has been, since I’ve had these muscle pains and all that. Music is my best medicine. I’ve told my doctors, ‘this is wonderful!’ If it works for you, it works for you!”

The only thing Boyd likes more than playing is singing, whether an old country standard or a gospel classic. Favorites like “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” and “Peace in the Valley” are even more rewarding when playing and singing simultaneously, he said.

His work with The Contributor, as well as a source of income, is a platform for his performances. The work of vending and entertaining can be symbiotic, and in Boyd’s experience, folks in Nashville always love a good show.

“While I’m playin’, I got my badge showing, I got my papers displayed, and people interested in my music stop … I may get a $100 bill, a $5 bill, I may get $2. It’s all good. Even if I get just 50 cents, that pays for my paper and, hey, I get 25 cents extra. It’s not all about the money. It’s all about getting out there and doing what I love.”

He said the niche he’s found in Nashville’s community was like a sort of ministry, after all, despite the unique trappings. As for his place at The Contributor — he prefers to call that family.

“I’ve got a lot of Contributor family. I’ve got a lot of Room In The Inn family,” he said. “I love being a vendor. I love seeing, I love playing, and I love meeting people.”