Requests.

The last time I did a request it was Danny Boy for a nice old woman in Fulham High Street. I've been asked a few times for others, but I did not oblige. Where does one start, for example, with the James Bond Theme? Or the Godfather Theme? I did the Pink Panther Theme for a bit, but it was just too rinkeydink for me in the end. Then a lovely bunch of kids ran up to me under South Kensington and went 'Can you play us a song please?' sort of all at once, but not at the same time. 'I don't normally do requests, but if it's one I can play I will oblige.' 

Twi
   Twinkle Twin...
TWINKLE TWINKLE LITTLE STAR!

All at once, but not quite at the same time. 

I can play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. First song I ever learned. They were well chuffed when I played it. Their mum didn't give me any cash though. She didn't need to, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star is a crowd pleaser. 

Sometimes I play it as badly as possible. See how long I can keep it up for. It's a bit like going on strike. That's what you get if you're showing no love to the fiddler. One minute is probably the longest I've gone so far.

I've started playing a bit of Pachelbels Canon too. Had to learn it for a wedding (Technically making it a request.). It's a nice tune that everybody knows. Got lots of different passages that have been added over the years. I can never make my mind up which bit of it to play after the other, which is probably why I never play it for long. St Kilda Wedding was also a request for that wedding. Lots of vigorous bowing in that one, not good for the back when busked.

So yes, I do do requests, but not always.

Like the time I played a gig in a working mens club in bloody Ealing of all places and they requested all sorts of stuff that I have actively avoided listening too through the course of my life, then underpaid us in the end, after I'd showed the drunken arsehole who'd hired me how to work his own sound system. 

Staggering over to us mid song and going 'Ooh, I think you've lost the crowd there...' then expecting us to just know how to play every song ever written by any really shite artist you'd care to mention. 

Mind you, the average age of the audience was 80. Some of them were sitting there having a nice tap of the feet, but the In Crowd weren't happy. They came to dance to Daniel O'Donnell. The only dancing tune we had that came close was I'll Tell Me Ma. The rest were about stuff like James Connelly and lovely horses. (Did I mention that it was St Patricks night). So the drunk arsehole who hired us came over 'Lads, you should probably just call it a night, I'll pay you the full whack'. I started to pack up at that very moment. 

He sent his wife out to pay us. She didn't pay the full whack. That was a while ago, but I've got a long memory. When I get a functioning busking amp I may just go back there and give them the full Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

Hair Loss.

Horse hair. I've done it again. This time I've newly embaldened my second favorite bow by smacking it against the fingerboard and getting all rhythmic. It's a stupid bloody thing to do and made me the princely sum of 50p. To be honest the bloke looked concerned as he dropped it into my case, he was probably just coming over to check I wasn't having an episode. I went back to folk and only then I noticed the hair flapping like fetlocks either flank of my fiddle. About £15 worth lost in a moment. 

That was Sunday, beneath Green Park. I tried both spots. Green Park 1 has lovely acoustics. I think spots that are in Jubilee line tunnels generally do. Green Park 2 was horrible. This is the one just before you enter or leave the Piccadilly Line. The people were lovely and seemed to like the music, but my arm started complaining after about 15 minutes because the sound wasn't forgiving. I packed it in after an hour and strolled through Green Park where some sort of running race had taken place. The last time I busked above ground in that part of London was around the Olympics. They weren't much fun to busk.

Near the beginning of the Olympics I had a busk outside Brompton Road Station over the road from the Earls Court Exhibition Centre where the volley ball was being done. I wasn't going to let armed coppers stop me. Unless they came over and asked me to stop, then I'd let them stop me. Nothing happened, but my fiddle sounded ropey because it was early in the morning and I hadn't dropped any of my own cash in my case. Twenty minutes later there was still no cash in my case. My mistake was to focus on the guns when I should have been focusing on the sunshine. I relocated to just in front of the station, between the doors. A swift £7.50 later I'm moved on by a copper. They only like busking when it's pro bono. 

I should stick to playing the theme from The Pink Panther. My top e flat is too flat though, except for when it's too sharp. 

I've Gone Underground (La la la la).

My new god may just be the busking hotline. This is the number you call to get your slots when you're a licensed busker.

The name's Brown, Montmarcey Brown, licensed to busk.

It's a whole different kettle of fish when you're busking beneath the streets in lovely echoey tunnels. I've got a good bow that I liked using, but my style is heavy on hair so it went bald and I haven't had the cash to rehair it. Back in the case now thanks to the lovely echoey tunnels beneath London. Not quite bald, getting there swiftly. Makes a lovely noise when I smack it against the fingerboard. This is a very expensive technique though, and people don't throw cash when I do it, so it's not one I should pursue often. The trouble is that I really like the noise it makes so I'll end up doing it. Bow stroke, then smack bow on fingerboard then another bow stroke (Maybe a different double stopped chord this time.) and before I know it I've got carried away and wiped out on a bum note with horse hair dangling accusingly from my bow. 

I looked up and there stood what looked like a violin teacher sadly shaking her head. She walked on. 

The people pass in some stations only when a train has emptied itself onto a platform that feeds your allocated bit of tunnel. Fantastic for improvising when no one's about. The money comes steadily. My big trick above ground has always been to try and get people dancing. Kids, generally are the easiest to get to dance. I often worry that I've struck upon some sort of pester power when their parents stop to watch their kids boogie, then feel compelled to reach into their pockets. Drunk people are good too. Often the most confrontational ones are subsequently the most generous. On the tube it seems more controlled, people walk with rhythm and purpose. My big trick now is to play something that matches the general pulse of people walking past. 

The sound though, it's addictive. What other musicians get to experiment with a varied set of acoustics on a daily basis. Sound engineers get to play about with them in their headphones, but tunnels are really interesting. On the underground they fill and empty with bodies really quickly. If I'm playing a pub with a band we always have to turn our instruments up as the pub fills, ambient noise is created by humans and the mass of their bodies dampens sound waves. The same is true on the tube, one second the noise is reverberating beautifully, the next it's lost all of it's body and tone to the feet stomping past.

Two spots I've played so far don't suffer from this problem. The first exit from Tottenham Court Road Station and the patch before you leave Hammersmith on your way to the exit with the statue. Tottenham court road is so echoey that I'm sure the individual notes get muddled up at points and entirely different tunes to the ones I'm playing emerge. 

Anyway, I've got to go, it's raining and I need to ring the busking hotline.

Portobello Market.

I started out in High Street Kensington, but was swiftly moved on by a cop. It was too sunny to argue, but we both agreed that it was very silly indeed that he was moving me on. I managed to give him a short lesson on acoustics and the value of an awning when fiddling. 

So I went to Portobello Market and ended up busking next to a dustbin for about 45 minutes. I made about £20, but I didn't like the acoustics so I wandered about for a bit and ended up next to the entrance of Ladbrook Grove Underground where I made £1.50 and started to sound a bit less hungover so I headed back into the market where I stumbled across this bloke....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hSfltcSXq0c&NR=1&feature=endscreen

He was packing up, so I took his spot. I'd busked it in similar circumstances two years earlier and concluded that it was not a good spot to busk. Similar weather, similar amount of cherry tree petals having fallen...etc. I made £4 last time round. This time I made £40. Busking's a funny old game.

Then this woman....

http://www.rickkirainbow.co.uk/

gave me a fiver. She's got a live gig coming up, but she didn't give away any clues as to where or when it was taking place.

The Busking Vortex.

I stumbled across a half empty can of beer

on my carpet today. Just now. I'm drinking it as I blog. Happy and bad times busking. Managed to jiggle up £35 today in an hour and a half but, given the weather, should have gone out earlier and made three times that. 

I've been hitting High Street Kensington a bit too much. This is a patch I have busked now for two years consistently despite several stand offs with the police. The worst one was the first time. A community officer came up to me and asked me to move on, so I played every trick in the book on him because I was getting grief from an anaesthetist and needed to vent. Half an hour later 3 squad cars arrived and because none of us had a grasp of the law they had no option but to verbally abuse me out of the area.

Today two community officers walked past and gave me a smile and I had to smile back. I smiled at someone because they weren't being a tosser. 

Actually, he had a bit of a ginger beard sprouting, so that may be why I smiled at him. I probably noticed that before the uniform. 

You can hit High Street Kensington often though. It's one of those streets that's perfect for busking. The last time I got moved on from High Street Kensington the copper told me to go and busk in Kensington Gardens about a week ago. Bloody cold day with a bit of wind but sunny too. I parked myself on the main thouroughfare infront of what looked like a palace and fiddled up about £60 quid before the park manager came along and introduced herself. She didn't want me busking there because you're not allowed to do business in a Royal park. Unless you're royal of course, then you can charge people fifty fucking pence to empty their bladder after you've sold them a can of diuretics. 

I moved on without argument. She is the only person who gives a shit about preventing people from busking there. They don't believe in park wardens these days. Basically, I'm her Yogi Bear. I'll be back there, busking and making cash while she's busy doing boring park manager stuff.

Violin lessons.

Occasionally someone will come up to me when I' busking and ask me if I give violin lessons. This is the point where I ask them a few questions. Usually through the questioning stage they decide they/their child/aquaintance would not be served well by regular lessons from me. As a result, I have only given one paid lesson on the violin in my life. Some bloke came up to me when I was busking in Chelsea and gave me £10 to give him a cheeky lesson in the park. An ODP who'd shown me a few things in Ealing Hospital happened to be passing and the three of us retired to a bench beneath a shaded tree where my lesson consisted of me saying 'Just look on youtube mate, then listen and stuff, but hold it like this.'. 

I give out lots of free lessons. I particularly enjoy teaching 3-6 year olds because they hold a violin like a guitar. For me the only important lesson at that age is to respect the instrument and not drop it, which all of my pupils have so far passed. 

Today a young man who is playing guitar regularly on a Sunday in his church came up to me and asked me for lessons. This is a very good start if you want to play music. The weekly discipline of a public performance combined with the general focus of a congregation is good for a musician. I told him it's £20 a lesson and he told me he doesn't have a fiddle, so I told him it's £100 a fiddle, it'll be made of crap wood but it'll do you through a few things. Considering I'll have to spent £45 on strings for it and part with a decent tailpiece..... Then I gave him a free lesson on the street and he struck a decent F sharp on the E string double stopped with the open A under instruction. Asked to do it again, he would succeed. He really wants to learn it. 

So hopefully I may have found a pupil. On an ad hoc basis though. He's not gong to pass any grades with me as a teacher. I don't like grades. In music there are only performances and editing.