­

Busking Festivals and Touring Antics: Alex Ryan
Guest writer for The Busking Project

As buskers, we’re not used to being treated like rockstars. The fact that The Busking Project has added “Avoid Arrest” on its own Facebook page (alongside more ‘normal’ goals like “make money” and “gain fans”), should tell you something about how buskers are often perceived.

I first started busking with a friend aged about fourteen, hoping to make a little money. We busked more and more frequently, until we were spending every free moment on the streets. We barely made any money and often spent what we did make before the night was out. It was a pretty straightforward experience of busking. But we loved it.

Eventually, we put together a band and travelled around, taking a bus From Canterbury to London to check out the South Bank. This was before they brought in the licensing scheme and auditions, so we were free to just head up when we felt like it and see how it went. It became a big part of our identity and we were proud of it, but we were used to being treated like second-class citizens or worse.

By summer 2012, we decided to try to go to Canada for the summer, as our lead singer had encountered something called a ‘busking festival’ in the city of Kingston, Ontario, on a previous trip over there. We applied, got accepted and before we knew it we were making plans to cross the ocean and busk in a different country.

None of us had ever encountered a buskerfest before. They’re pretty big in Canada, Australia and parts of Europe, but almost unheard of in the UK. The idea of a city dedicating an entire weekend to a celebration of busking was something we couldn’t get over. As most reading this blog will know, city authorities aren’t always the most open-minded when it comes to street performance.

Yet there we were. We arrived at Kingston bus station tired and travel-fried, and too late to play the opening show. We were picked up by a driver (named Paul, who became our “Uncle Paul” within about three hours), and were shot across town to catch the end of the opening party. When we got there we were greeted with as much free booze as we could drink before being taken back to our equally free residence at the university campus.

Over the next few days, we played to some of the biggest and best crowds any of us had ever seen.

We were welcomed as guests, and felt like the people we were working with actually wanted us there. It may not seem like much, but to us it was overwhelming. We’d had some of our lowest points immediately before coming to Canada. Probably our worst experience was going up to South Bank to perform on the Jubilee weekend only to be told that busking had been banned for the event and threatened with arrest. We spent the day avoiding the police with quick ‘flash-busks’, risking having our instruments confiscated, just to make enough money for a bed for the night. In the end we spent one of the dodgier nights of our lives in a youth hostel in Deptford.

Though Kingston, like most places in Canada, does have a licensing scheme the rest of the year, the fact that the city dedicates itself to busking for just a few days every summer really helps foster a positive relationship between buskers and the authorities.

Perhaps more importantly, it broadens the scope for busking. One of the most vital aspects of a busker’s life is travel. The word ‘busk’ derives from the Spanish ‘buscar’ – ‘to search, to seek’. As buskers, we are always searching for our next pitch, our next crowd, our next meal. Freedom to move enables this and keeps the busking scene vibrant: new acts come through and meet and exchange, finding new audiences and meeting new people. A festival is an incredible incentive to bring world-class performers into a town and to keep things fresh and breathing. To keep the whole thing alive.

We were honoured to be a part of it. It’s also a damn good time. And who doesn’t love a damn good time?

By Alex Ryan.