Diary Of A Busker Day 41 Saturday February 12th Winchester High Street Opposite Phase Eight Time: 1:20 – 6:20pm.
A busy day for shoppers – the busiest I’ve seen since I started busking and the most buskers I’ve ever seen in Winchester – I counted seven in the very small stretch that is the pedestrian precinct, none more than 30 feet from the next. So, from the top to the bottom of the high street, or in other words, from WH Smiths to Marks And Spencer: 1. Guy and Helen, 2. Frank, 3. Glenn the conjurer, 4. Female violinist, 5. Young man – guitar and girl wearing much eye makeup – singing, 6. Two men – guitar/ukelele, 7. 18 piece steel drum band…and a guy* singing and strumming a guitar next to The Slug And Lettuce pub in the market square just off the high street.
So, Frank was there, down a bit from the two tweedle-dee folk muzak duo – Guy and Helen. They might as well have a couple of Morris dancers with them. I’m afraid Frank and I don’t appreciate this music. It doesn’t ‘go anywhere’, there are no dynamics, and why they need the music in front of them, I don’t know. It just repeats ad infinitum… Then again, my Third Man tune doesn’t go anywhere, either. Still, that’ll teach young Guy to bang away on his suitcase during any more of my sessions. Frank says I can have his spot at 1 o’clock, so I am forced to amuse myself for an hour. After going to the public toilets, I have a chat with Simon, the Big Issue-selling busker, who is sitting inside the arch where the flower seller is on weekdays. Simon’s seems a nice guy and I detect an unmistakable Northern accent – Manchester I reckon. He often busks in the late evening, between 11 and 2am. It’s a bit dodgy at times – he has to watch out for the drunks, staggering around and being aggressive. I then go to the cathedral grounds and eat my scone and drink my grape squash. I walk around the market square and see the guy outside The Slug And Lettuce strumming away, singing the popular Eagles dirge, Take It Easy…back to the high street, back again to the square, down the path next to the cathedral, coming out near the bottom of the high street. I lean against a column in the covered bit – The Pentice, right near Glenn the conjurer. Glenn says he’s had a bad day, he says hasn’t done one ‘table’ the whole time he’s been there. “I’ve never known it like this. I usually do at least one table an hour.” I haven’t met him before. I feel sorry for him – he’s come all the way from Fareham.
At 1 o’clock I walk the few yards up to where Frank is. Money-wise, he has had a good day, he says, but now I’m ready to take over! …unfortunately, I end up averaging just over £6 an hour – a bad day.
Earnings: £37.76p.
* Rick Tarrant
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