Diary Of A Busker Day 2586 Friday August 8th 2025 Winchester.
Don Lavelle’s at work on his latest and there’s a bloke doing American Pie at the top spot. ‘Who’s this, Don?’ ‘I don’t know his name but ‘ees pretty good. Hasn’t been here that long.’ ‘Get rid of him! It’s OK, I’ll go round the corner, see you later.’ Round the corner, The Square’s a bit empty so I bomb down Market Street to see if the crossroads is free. It is but there’s no shade (it’s another hot day) and there’s a massive overflowing bin next to where I usually set up and it stinks and I’m not setting up there because I know it would be unbearable after a few minutes, so back up to The Square I go, where at least there’s some shade.
I’m a bit rusty to say the least, having had no guitar on the five day Parisian trip and not really played in the three days since I’ve been back. Still getting used to the new guitar but it’s getting better. One thing that’s definitely an improvement is the tuning, which doesn’t need adjusting every two or three songs like the white guitar. This is good, as it saves time and time is money! I planned on doing an hour, then it got to an hour and a half – this is how long it took me to dust the cobwebs off and start playing freely, then two hours, at which time a big Biffa van turned up. The bloke got out and emptied six huge bins of bottles into the back of the van, and every time a binload went in and was turned upside down, the sound of glass being crushed was the loudest thing I’ve ever heard. Having finished his earth-shattering work, the driver then had to move a table and four chairs outside Three Joes so he could reverse. Back in his van, he starts reversing and the automated warning sounds start up and obliterates my playing. Fuck it, I’m near the end of the set and decide not to stop and wait for the cacophony to end but to play on. This makes a man sitting outside Three Joes laugh because he knows I’ve got no chance. He’s there with his oriental wife and four year old daughter, who’s dancing to me.
After Biffa fucks off, I do Anjie then Tales of The Unexpected then Bond then decide to pack up. The man comes across, pays me some compliments, picks up my Billy Balloon album and says his 23 year old daughter writes and sings her own stuff as well, and just to prove it he gets his phone out and gets her up on Spotify. She’s Ruby Aeron and her father is desperate for me to hear her so he gets a song up and hands me his phone. Quite nice, in an early sixties Astrid Gilberto way…I quite like the sparse arrangements and the fact she hasn’t overloaded it all with harmonies. Her father then gets another song up – ‘When you were playing Tales Of The Unexpected, it reminded me of this one of Ruby’s, so I heard another one of Ruby’s. Apparently she’s been taken on by some American record company who want her to spend some more time compiling some more songs. All I can say to the father is I hope she carries on but to stop if she feels she isn’t enjoying it anymore because it’s the most difficult profession – there’s no School Of Making It In The Music Business, especially with your own music.
And the father? He’s a lecturer in Bristol AND has written a load of books. I draw his attention to my two diary volumes and we have a chat about books and music and how there are thousands, possibly hundreds of thousands of writer/artists about and they’re all trying to get published. At the end he buys an £8 CD with a tenner and he doesn’t want any change – fine by me! Nice bloke and he then handed me a bookmark with what a small ad for what I assume is his latest book, The Wonders Of Doctor Bent by Paul Crawford, for it is he. The rest of the card says Available At Waterstones, Amazon, Foyles And All Good Bookshops. “Brooding, Brilliant, Beautiful” – Dave Chawner, then the website at the bottom www.paulcrawfordauthor. Paul seems a very nice bloke so I don’t mind chatting with him. Besides, I’ve just finished a 2 hour and 15 minutes session without any real break so I don’t mind having a bit of company at the end of the session. I said I’d look up his daughter and his books when I get home.
A good set (once I unwinded and got more practised)…I had to change the foot pedal batteries halfway though, when the thing started fuzzing and fading out in the middle of Cavatina, but these things happen. When the coinage was counted, I came away with just under 50 quid (sold another CD earlier and picked up a fiver) which was quite good, considering I played crap (warming-up) for over half the time. Still, I managed to get through almost all the repertoire, including Julia Florida – a serious tax on the old memory. I’ll get to Dixie McGuire and Robinson Crusoe next time…