Saturday 12 January 2013

A London tube busker dishes the dirt - The Guardian

I've had people call me rubbish. I've been yelled at by incoherent drunks. And I even have my own personal nemesis at Westminster station: a short, suited man with a pointy beard. The first time he saw me, he delivered the hilarious line: "Don't give up the day job." Now he simply shakes his head sadly each time he passes. On the plus side, I've made a lot of people dance and smile. My guitar-playing is better than ever, and I regularly get home to find myself described on Twitter as "awesome" or "a legend". I've also landed some great gigs, including Glastonbury.

For the first 140 years of the London Underground, uskers were free spirits who sneaked in and played where they pleased, negotiating with other performers for a decent spot. Licensing arrived in 2003, and there are now 37 official pitches at 25 stations. As I've discovered in the five years I've held a licence, busking still isn't remotely lucrative. But then no one sane goes into music for the money.

Although the licence is free, booking pitches can be expensive. Two-hour slots are given out on a first-come, first-served basis on Tuesday mornings via an expensive 0845 number. A lucky few get through at 9.30am; the rest are left dialling all morning, even though all the best pitches are gone in an hour. The fact we're now official has extended things musically, though. Since we don't have to be constantly ready to flee with all our stuff, we can use more equipment, and incorporate backing tracks and loop pedals. Amps, too, have made otherwise unplayable pitches – such as Canary Wharf, where acoustic instruments are inaudible – worthwhile.

Pre-licensing, buskers used to be found at the bottom of escalators or in long, busy tunnels. Such spots give you a steady stream of passers-by, but we're rarely allowed to play in those places today. Piccadilly Circus has one of the few spots at the bottom of an escalator – everyone wants to play there. The Embankment pitch, by contrast, is hidden away in a little-used tunnel directly underneath a stretch of track. It's noisy and usually empty. I've only played there once and did so badly I barely covered my travel costs. The only money I made was from a Brazilian tourist who gave me a £2 coin. I don't think he meant to give me that much.

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