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Friday, 5 August 2016

Next week ( Friday ) there will be no posts..the following ..yes..


Living that thing


A narration about a run down squat I stayed in during my time in London in the early 90·s....Earls court....Man I was living of busking shrapnel.

juzzie smith

Without using  loops

Battery amp



                         

          

         Electric vibrations spat out
        from the 8 watt Peavy amplifier
         The purple paisley neckerchief
        Blended the street reflecting red of the guitar
              Short blast changes
               Layoffs
            Off key peaks
        Under the circumstances almost abstract
              I donated a pound
                 Then
             After a while
              I proceeded up Baggot street ..

      


          And the money , what do you do with it ?

Well  I  don’t  give  it  back  , that  would  be  pretty  thick  and  would  maybe  be  insulting  to  some  people . I  don’t  think  buskers  to  that  well , donation  wise  anyway , some  say  they  do , but  I’m  left  suspicious , certainley  buskers  don’t  do  well  eneough  to  maintain  a  family , I  know  that  for  sure . It’s  more  than  a  hobbie , it’s  a  desire , a  destiny , it’s  not  a  profession  or  an  occupation  though , at  least , thats  what  I  think .
I  might  get  lucky , I’ve  had  some  big  drops , paper  things  have  been  handed , then  again  I’ve  had  next  to  zero  tips  happening , that  can  be  depressing , you  gotta  keep  going  though , theres  a  big ´why not ` happening  there . You  gotta  feed  your  destiny .
What  I  would  mainly  do  with  my  donations  is  feed  it  back  into  the  machine  that  made  them  in  the  first  place , new  batteries , a  better  pignose  amp  and  new  harmonicas . You  can’t  always  use  the  same  harmonicas , within  a  year  they  go  permanently  out  of  tune . The  rest  is  cigarette  and  beer  money .
I  try  not  to  rely  too  much  on  my  donations , I’m  not  a  crowd  pleaser , I’m  there  to  preform  music , sure  I  like  the  chings , I  can’t  deny  that .


Places to busk..

Girona


I  found  myself  in  a  nice  spot  here   among high  mountains  and still
rivers , deep  in  the  heart  of  Catalonia ... Overlooking , high ,
stoned  buildings  split  across  the  Rio Onyar . Everything  here
is  a  different  color . Narrow , stony  lanes  stretching  up  to
yesterdays  white cast  buildings and castles..Pity about  the  people being Unfriendly  and  uninteresting though,except for some tourists .
          You  can  pitch here  on  the  bridges,by the castle (the best place ) or  the  main  cut offs .They  don't  let  you  but  you  don't  see  that  many  uniforms about . The  busking  is  crap  anyway . I  was  told  by another busker  that  it  is  in-fact  shit  here . He  advised  me  to  go 
and  pitch  somewhere  else . An  Asian  street  vendor  accused
me  of  poaching  his  pitch . I  didn't  say  a  word , I just  picked
up  my  few  tips  and  split . I went  back  and  asked  him  about  the  busking situation  here . He  told  me  that  you  just  had  to  keep  your  eyes open  for  the  uniforms  who  would  move  you  on , or  worse . He  then  tried  to  sell  me  some  of  his  homemade  jewelry .

Busker has beens

ROD STEWART



Another story of a legend who came from humble beginnings. Before he was one of the most identifiable and iconic voices of British rock and roll, Rod Stewart was hanging around folk singer Wizz Jones and busking at Leicester Square and other London spots. 

The early '60s saw Jones and Stewart taking their act to Brighton and then to Paris, sleeping under bridges over the River Seine, and the finally to Barcelona. This actually resulted in Stewart being deported from Spain for vagrancy in 1963.