Diary Of A Busker Day 73 Monday April 4th Winchester High Street (1. opposite Clinton Cards, Time: 2:05-4:07pm, 2. corner of Marks And Spencer, Time: 4:50-6:10pm.)
A cold and windy day means it’s difficult to play certain songs – any fast bits don’t come out right, so I stick to the simpler ones like Yellow Bird with which I open the ‘proceedings’ – and drag it out for about ten minutes at least. I’ve only been playing it a couple of minutes when a tall man – mid-sevenies, who’s been listening just behind and to the right of me comes forward – “That song – what is it?” “Yellow Bird.” “Ah yes, but I know it as Choucoune. It was sung by a coloured chap – Henri Salvador, you know, like the country. It was called that, long before it was Yellow Bird.” “Really?” I say. “I only know the words are from an old poem and the melody’s an old traditional one – no one knows who wrote it.” While talking to this man, I had stopped playing Yellow Bird/Choucoune. I now resume playing it only to be interupted again just two minutes later, this time by another man of similar age. “I remember that from when I was in the RAF. We were sent to the Caribbean – this was forty years ago when the Cuban Crisis had started (almost fifty years ago). They sent us out there – we flew out” I interupt him here – “What were you flying?” “Shackletons. They put us up in a nice hotel and then forgot about us! We were there for weeks, all expenses paid! It was very nice! That song you were playing – what is it?” “Yellow Bird” – or Choucoune! “That brings back memories – and you think of sitting on a beach and there’s that great Caribbean sunset…” I follow his line “Yeah, the leaves on the palm trees swaying gently, a nice breeze, um – gently blowing. Sort of reminds me of an early Bond novel – when he goes to Jamaica.” “Yes, well, thank you very much – it does bring back memories.”
After two hours I take a break and wander around the warmest place nearby – the HMV Shop – and check to see if my solitary album is still there…it is. I then take a very short walk and set up at the noisy (and today very windy) corner. In fact it’s so windy, all my stuff’s blowing about – my set list and music papers and Halloween bucket which doesn’t have a flat bottom so it’s wobbling/rocking about.
A couple of 19 year olds want some AC/DC. “Sorry, I don’t do any.” “What about some blues then”, they say. I tell them I used to play a bit, mainly Chicago blues when I was eighteen and in Canada. I had a choice, I tell them. Either move to Chicago and play the blues, or come to England…and end up busking! “You know any Eric Clapton? – Layla?” Of course I do, you never forget stuff you learn when you’re young. I play the high riff, then the double string one which comes in a few seconds later under the high one – my young folk love it. I pre-empt them – “You like Led Zeppelin? You must like some of that!” I don’t give them time to answer – they get the riff from Black Dog…but not too loud – I don’t want to disturb the neighbours! “What about some more themes?” they say – they were walking by as I was playing The Good, The Bad And The Ugly. “Sure, you know the James Bond theme?” I’d played this ten minutes before but that doesn’t matter out here. “Yeah! Play it!” I play it, they love it – “You’re good!” They give me some money – that’s what it’s all about.
Earnings: £36.05p