Busker

Posted to Stories on the topic of Work on 13 November 2006.

by R.K. Wallace

I busk in the streets of Glasgow for a living. It is not the most glamorous of jobs. The most interesting part about singing to the public is that you get certain types of people who will want to talk to you. First are those who always yell ‘give us something we know!’ and regardless of their age it’s almost always predictable what they want. Pink fucking Floyd, “Wish You Were Here”, is a common one. “Wonderwall” by Oasis is another. And lets not forget the bigots who will either ask for “The Sash”, if they are Protestants, or “The Fields of Athenry”, if they are Catholics. But I tell those idiots they can all go to hell.

There is then the odd chancer who will want to have a go on the guitar and you know right away he can’t play. Of course you know what he is going to attempt –- Wish you were fucking here, or wonder bloody wall. And you can already hear the noise of the mis-hit strings sounding something like this, DICK-DICK-DICK-TWANG! DICK-DICK-DICK-TWANG!

They also try and sing. And oh good grief. Most of them have lost their voices through alcohol abuse or whatever else they abuse. They are tuneless creatures trying to emulate the gods they worship. Not that the gods they worship sound any better. I guess they just carry more credibility for sounding bad because of who they are.

But I let them sing. I allow them that little moment of glory they have always been searching for. And I just stand there trying to smile and pretend I am impressed. Of course, I do demand they put something in my box and they normally give me a couple of pounds. But I would rather get nothing if only someone would come up and ask for something I had done myself. Or to jam with me and maybe try and create something new. But you can’t do that. I mean try busking your own shit to the public and you will end up with a half eaten burger launched in your general direction. They don’t want to hear anything new. We already live in times of uncertainty. They don’t want anything more to destabilise their last grasp at something familiar.

4 Comments