The Art of Busking



Busking




          Busking is my preferred method of fundraising while in a pinch.  Busking is the ancient art of the traveling bard...playing music on the fly for crowds, or individuals for cash.  Bard’s throughout history have been traveling around the world, playing for food, beer, or pussy since the ancient Egyptians.  Busking is essentially one of the only acceptable forms of begging.  So why doesn’t every asshole who thinks they can play an instrument just pick up there recorder or skin flute and just pick a corner to play at (in Nashville they do)?  Let’s take a look at some of the pros and cons of this art shall we.... 

In today’s world of free information, Google, and $20 data plans for that I-phone you stole while you were drunk at a bar, the value of a live musicianship has greatly diminished.  A busker can sit out all day long in various places, and still only make $15, half a pack of cigarettes, and a free hit of black tar heroin.

Yes, all these rewards will be presented to you, promptly after a 10 hour day of being called a street urchin, being requested to play very obscure songs, entertaining requests for songs you hate to play (like “Stairway to Heaven” or some lame Jimmy Buffet shit), or having the infamous drunk guy approach you with a ten dollar bill.  He then proceeds to tell you “That he can play better then you so say these ten dollars” then he drops your guitar, and walks away with the promised money.  How can someone be successful at this? 

Even in world renown music cities, like Nashville Tennessee, (where you will be lynched for NOT tipping a street performer), or San Francisco (where you be tipped only with drugs and coupons for prostitutes), with little sales experience, one can only pray to make enough to cover your parking pass or your bus fare.

I spent a wonderful three months in the country music capitol of the world, Nashville Tennessee.  I managed to make close to $200 on most days...how the fuck did I do it?  Did I threaten the locals with offensive jazz music, or tell them I would eat there babies for breakfast?  No, I just applied good ole fashion canvassing tricks to street performance; let’s take a look at these shall we….

Professional Panhandleing

Professional Panhandling

The art of Busking, Hustling, and Panhandling…

(A secure future for our American kids)

            It occurred to me once, while I was sitting in a gutter, picking my nose, somewhere in Oklahoma City, that I spend a great deal of time, feeling feelings.  Why the fuck not?  Sometimes I feel happy, sometimes sad, or angry.  Sometimes I feel a set of boobs, behind a single stalled bathroom, at taco bell!  Regardless I still “feel” all the time.  When times feel desperate, desolate, and draconian, despite my dashing and dapper, demeanor... I know that in my heart, when I feel truly fucked in life, its always when I feel...THAT I NEED SOME FUCKING MONEY!!!!

It happens to the best of us,and it happens to the worst of us.  It happens to those to cheap to spend an extra 20 cents, to upgrade your french-fries TWO sizes larger!!!  We either miss-balance our account, over calculate our earnings, or get to drunk at the bar on payday and blow all of our money on rounds and rounds…this is done in the hopes, that we will gain the respect of our peers, and woo an unfamiliar lady into bed, by getting her so fucked up, she can’t tell you’re a totally irresponsible, broke asshole (until its to late that is.)

We have felt the crestfallen cry of a cold coin-purse.  Perhaps we were driving back from Las Vegas, while on parole in California, with our punk rock band.  Navigating through life, with a BAC of .5, high on coke, and stranded at a gas station in the middle of the fucking desert, in a giant black van that looks like the Mystery Mobil got a makeover in the Rape Dungeon.  To make matters more of a challenge, we are simultaneously convincing the highway patrol officer, who is currently standing in front of us, that we are a group of Jehovah's Witness, on a cross country mission, and we are just stopping for gas.