Friday, 5 August 2016
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.
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
Off key peaks
Under the circumstances almost abstract
I donated a pound
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 .
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 pickedup 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 .
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.