Busking on Blisters - Chapter 4

 

 

 

Busking On Blisters

By Paul McCann

Chapter 4

Busker On The Road  

 

From Hadrian’s Wall to the Lake District I travelled on the road until I was captured by the heart of Cumbria . It was the month of May when I stopped by a beautiful place called Keswick where there was a Folk Music Festival happening . It was one of those once in a million  situations that brought me an awareness of music I had never thought of before . It also gave me the chance to do some busking and share some songs of who I am and what I do in the world I live in .  I met so many friendly people there and talked to those who came to perform and those who had come to listen . There were Irish Fiddle players . Scottish dancers , even some small groups from South Australia and Queensland . There were even line dancers and a variety of Congo drum beating all Stars with a junk bands and garage bands thrown in for an extra measure of talent . I listened to poets and storytellers who  hoped to make some change to the world by what they do  . It can start with one voice telling another who passes that on . An analogy of this is like one person throwing a small stone into a pond which causes a ripple on the surface however when thousands of people are able to throw larger stones into the pond sooner or later there will be waves splashing across the surface . We can all become a small pebble by writing a poem or sharing a song or a story . Busking is an extension of this and by sharing those songs you broadcast an intervention for whatever cause you desire .  You can inform others about current affairs or global issues in your own quiet revolution taking place on the corners of a street or on the steps of a church . Many writers and musicians have had a voice with some awareness campaigns and set an example for others to follow . Isn’t it brilliant to see how the music shared by celebrities who came together to perform in concerts have opened up the eyes of the world who had been blind to the poverty and hunger and how through their efforts and the generosity of  millions of people who gave donations were able to  alleviate the suffering of many in the world. .

I am proud of the large number the singers and songwriters who work very hard at promoting hope and providing a voice to support others in need . There are many who barely exist on  nothing and live in the shame of abuse . They are spat on and insulted because they are poor and disadvantaged and walked over or put in chains by their so called masters who deem themselves superior beings . 

In order to assist a need of humanity there has to be an understanding that we all live together and we can bring about change . Where there is hope , justice can be found and  healing can begin .
Today in the 21st century our generation can leave a message for the future that we tried to help and make a difference through music and future generations may see that  .
Musicians , buskers and bards have a mission to share their songs and poems today and in  the future . Today we are called to share an image of what life is like and in doing so to leave  a legacy that will become a vital source of strength and courage to reflect upon .
The world today is gripped by wars and conflict , spreading virus pandemics and natural disasters . The planet has seen the effects of global climate change and we have become very aware of multiculturalism and different cultural beliefs .Tolerance has found a way to be a witness to all the world that we can live together with our differences .

We have found in our music and songs  an attachment of expressing who we are and that must be  accepted and appreciated otherwise we can become lost or confused amidst all the aggression that surrounds us in the world today . The ability to share our passion and love of music is an essential ingredient in life and with music festivals and events such as the Eurovision song contest many countries and cultures can share their vision of hope through music and song . 

There were many other folk festivals along the way to way and it became an addictive . I met the same people at different festivals who toured the length and breadth of the country from place to place , selling their wares and performing their music .

I bumped into an Irishman called Des selling and promoting his hand made Celtic jewellery at the folk festivals . I stayed with him for a while until his brother arrived from Ireland to perform . He intrigued me with his stories about what inspired his hand crafted pieces that were created from his imagination .  Des had come over from Ireland to the English Folk Festivals to place his jewellery on display . His brother would be following at a later time .

Des brought with him a small collection of his hand crafted rings and broaches. He was a true artist who lived in isolation in a small cottage in the woods and spent a lot of time drawing and identifying wild flowers from the west of Ireland . 

Because of the extraordinary wealth of biological material there he enjoyed wandering around the ancient sites among standing stones and historical sights .

The thing he never realised was that he was living near one of the oldest copper mines in western Europe . All through West Cork, was this quartz rock with a beautiful green copper edge that left the etchings of ancient mines that had once existed and now only the remains of the stone lined with copper ore were left on walls throughout the hillsides . He came across diggings that only now in recent years were of some significance . This discovery was evidence of a people who had thrived in an age where metal working around West Cork and Kerry had been a passionate way of life .

Des has started digging in the bogs there and found lumps of trees and bark . This was a from another chapter of history the landscape was a forest .  Over time deforestation had occurred not just by the English but by the Irish themselves in the manufacturing of bronze and copper, because of the demands to supply tons of wood to produce a couple of kilos of copper ore .   Des told me about the unearthed treasures that had been found in his digging around the Boglands . The various designs and patterns on some these treasures inspired him  with his own Celtic jewellery making . He said that the wealth of metal work from the ninth and tenth century in AD Ireland was a source of what appeared on his broaches .
The wealth within his work was concentrated on the masterpieces of the Celtic church and also the secular work that took place as well . Other sources of his inspirations came from the second century BC from the dark age that  Ireland went through to around sixth century BC when it actually lost contact with Europe . At this time he told me there was a marked rise in the building of hill forts . The landscape had changed and he assumes there must have been some sort of climate change that took place because  a many fields had fallen into bog . There was a period about five thousand years ago when Neolithic farmers themselves lost enormous tracks of land due to climate change and in those bogs you can go down six or seven feet to find whole farms still buried there .

After the fall of the Roman Empire in 540 AD there were wood carvings that the Irish incorporated into wax because one of the greatest food sources in Ireland was honey which was always used since the early bronze age as a form of casting . Des had fallen in love with the great annular broaches like the Ballyspillane broach or the London Spur broach or the Hunterson broach and of course the famous one known as the  Tara broach which was  found in Bettystown in 1870 .

Most people didn't know that the Irish had done amazing works because of colonization of   the English and the subsequent destruction of its culture . It came to light around the 1870's with the bringing in of railways and the cutting out railway tracks across bogs and a lot of the metal work was turning up then . Dug up by workmen and either sold on to collectors people like Lord Petry . You know the term the Petry dish . Well he was also a collector of antiquities as a lot of those people were during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries . So Lord Petry obtained what's called the Petry Crown which was a first or second century AD Irish bronze crown . It was found in Cork and is a great example to go looking through .
It is covered in spirals . Its very reminiscent of second century AD bronze work from England if you look what the Britons were doing . Spirals are always inspired by nature and that's what keeps coming back to me is the knot work and the spirals . Its either the tendrils of trees or its mathematical plotting of the souls journey . It's true to say looking at the life of the early Celt that their spirituality was very focused on the world around them . Many ancient Irish tunes and airs that were composed around a brook that bubbled or a deer that trod the hills . The early Celts realised everything around them had been created for them by a higher being which was evident in their art work and their music  . There was a  Celtic celebration of life that existed around them .

Now in the 21^st Century Des was continuing that work in an original sense with his Celtic jewellery . On the downside of this there has been a surge of companies who employ people who work for next to nothing mass producing Celtic designs on all kinds of products .

Des had lived in one of the largest hippy communes in the country and the second largest commune in the world . In Huntable Falls he lived in an alternate lifestyle . This left him thinking a little to the extreme on the far side of life . There are many things that happen in life that are the reason why people let go .  In the time I spent with Des I had discovered something about capturing dreams and making images out of those for people to wear .

After saying goodbye to Des I continued my journey to Wales . On the road out of Keswick I travelled in the Avenger with my guitar and songs to share anywhere I could on some street or in a market place .

Carlisle was a place that welcomed busking and I felt the wealth of an old culture reaching out a hand and ready to listen to what you had to say .

From the town centre I found the square where I stood and busked for a while to the people showed interest in what I was doing . The acoustics were good and  I enjoyed the ambience of an old culture with some generous donations from the public . I had some people ask if I had a CD available which was nice .

It was nine o clock on a Saturday and as Billy Joel said the regular crowd shuffled in I stood singing a passer by in Botchergate . The pubs were full and the streets were quiet but that’s the special magic you get as a busker at times . No audience except for the one who might give you a hug in passing . After a while I was told that they close the up the mall to traffic on the weekends and then I realised why it had been so deserted . I played until closing time and them the people appeared as if from nowhere shouting and screaming as they went . One of two offered me a bottle a few offered a smoke .  I love the way some of them would call you a bum and encourage you to take music lessons . There were old men who gave you a nod and some who would gave you the last two bob they had . There was a lot of heart and soul there in Botchergate .

During the day in the Lanes Shopping Centre a good flow of people went through with lots of things to do . I saw a statue of a fiddle player there called Jimmy Dyer God bless him , sure his suffering is over now . I thought how nice it was for Carlisle to give tribute to this gifted musician .

After a few days busking I had a look at the old Castle there . I was standing on an  ancient site that went back to the Jacobite’s rebellion .

Its not for the want of leaving Carlisle but the calling to be back on the road to Wales stopping off in the midlands for a few days . I had a jar in a bar at Birmingham and played a few songs to the people there who welcomed the wandering minstrel . After talking to some of the locals I was amazed at the number of Irish people I met . It was as if I was in Ireland and not in England .  The city itself was very Irish looking .  With my six string I was free to  wander , free to roam , free to be see and be part of Birmingham in a different way  .  I was in no hurry to leave and felt at ease to be there .
I booked a room at the Malmaison and found I could get around the city with a short stretch of the legs  .

I busked in a romantic setting around the bars on the canal and with the money I took I ate in the Pitcher and Piano . You never had to walk very far to sample the foods from almost every culture in the world .

I enjoyed busking in New Street and met another busker called Jack who joined me one afternoon . We busked for an hour or two ,’

He invited me to this Pub he went to on a Sunday evening where they had a folk session every Sunday night . he said the crowd were mostly all Irish and that the stories and songs were as good as you’d hear anywhere in the world .

I looked at him and said .

“Jack what makes you say that ?”

:He replied .

“Well it’s the tone there you see Paul .  Come along and bring your guitar . You’ll see for yourself. “

‘Where is this place Jack ?

I asked  

“The thing is that you’ll have to come with me . The session is by invite only . If you come with me you’ll be accepted ”

I replied , “Ok I’ll be there  .“

 “See you Sunday at six o’clock . Just be here.”

Sunday came and  I was there and true to his word so was Jack . I followed him along and we went in the door of a dark and noisy pub , with all kinds of smells drifting in the air .We took a seat in the corner . I bought two stouts and two a little drop of Irish whisky to chase it down . I put a coin in the jukebox and played Catch The Wind , a song by Donovan . He listened and after it was over he put a coin in the jukebox and played a song by The Pogues called , The Fairytale of New York.  I looked at him and said

The barman came and lifted our empty glasses .

“ Hello Jack , It’s on again after we close “ Jack gave him a nod.

People drank up and left and the barman shut the doors . I followed Jack to a back room where about a dozen old codgers say in a circle on bar stools .Some half drunk on Guinness talking with heavy Irish brogues . most probably all country folk or from the  hills . The session began with Arthur who recited word for word The Green Eye of the Yellow God .

Jack and I  joined them as the session went around in a clockwise direction .

”Right, it’s your turn .“ Said the man to the man beside him . Sure enough there were poems and stories and songs I’ve never heard .  When it came my turn I took my guitar and played a song of my own and that was followed up with Jack doing some unaccompanied singing . There was no music of course , because he made it up on the spot . So into the night we went making up songs and stories to carry the session and it had to be done using tonal qualities I guess from a commercial sense but what came out was a very eccentric type of singing way by expressing yourself within the context of the folk tradition .  This was about as folk as you could ever possibly get . It was 2 am and well after closing time . A few more men came in the back door to join the group  . Sons of those in the back room . There was a fiddler and a banjo player so all in all  there were about twenty people there sitting just around doing individual bits . Old stories, prose, poetry, sort of songs, everything .  Such a wealth of earthiness , of grit, of humour . Sometimes they’d be sung by people who would be so drunk they couldn’t sit upright on the stool . It just ended up to be pure folk .
That kind of grit and background in music has an ability to give strength to the your voice and enable you to talk through concrete and if you make a mistake you just carry on with it . By the time old Johnny fell off his stool in the middle it was about time to wind it up . Everyone had a go at something and from my perspective it was great .

Before I left Jack said to me .

“ Don’t forget the Birmingham Irish Paul . Some of the songs and stories you heard are from a long time ago so carry them with you in  your heart . “

I left the Birmingham the next day on the road to Newport in Wales . With me I took the memory of the friendly folk from the canal somewhere between Ireland and England in a place called Birmingham .

 

End Of Chapter 4

 

https://www.abctales.com/story/mcscraic/busking-blisters-chapter-5

Link to Chapter 5

 

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