On Friday the 11th of August, 2023, I set off for York with my guitar to try out some busking. I have been toying with the idea of busking in York for almost twenty years and so it was nice to be finally doing it! Being an early riser, I was up at 05:30am. I ate breakfast, washed my face, did my makeup and got dressed. I was on a train for York at 07:30am. I feared I was maybe a little too early, but it was good weather that day and I decided it wouldn’t do any harm to arrive early and have a look around.
When I arrived in York, it was fairly quiet around the town, something you don’t often get chance to see as the place is usually abuzz with tourists. I walked straight down High Petergate and made my way towards King’s Square, an area known for its buskers. King’s Square was almost empty, save a few delivery vans and people on their way to work.
As I neared the area where the buskers perform, I noticed a rather long unicycle and a large box belonging to another busker. Apparently I wasn’t the only early riser. I couldn’t see anyone though and I assumed that they must have gone for a coffee or something. My first priority was to find a toilet, as there’s nothing worse than busking when you’re busting for a wee! Calls of nature out of the way, I returned to the square and sat down on the bench that is located there.
The weather was very pleasant, and I felt comfortable in my light, flowery dress. I was scanning the area, looking for someone who might look like they’d ride a unicycle. I mean, what does a “unicycler” look like anyway!? Nope, not him, he’s dressed like he’s off to work. Nope, he’s too out of shape. Wait, who’s this mysterious character with hood covering his eyes and those weird shorts that all danger-seeking people seem to wear?
Enter The Dragon
When I first saw him, I knew straight away he was a performer. There was nothing flashy about his appearance, and as I just described, his face was obscured by his hoody, but there was something about his cool, calm walk that gave him away. He walked straight up to me and said hello. His name was Andy Something and he seemed more than happy to share the spot with anyone who turned up.
Because of the very competitive nature of busking in York, it seems that most of the buskers are cooperative and flexible about where they perform and they happily adhere to the two-hour limit. As a result, you will see a wide variety of performers in the same location, and King’s Square is a sort of “Royal Albert Hall” of the busking world, making it popular among buskers.
The reason for this is that it’s a sort of natural amphitheatre, as the whole area is shaped like an oval, with the stage being denoted by a raised area at the back which has a few large, leafy trees growing out of it. It’s also situated at a cross-roads between the various geeky attractions that can be found nestled in among The Shambles such as The Shop That Must Not Be Named, a must-see for Harry Potter fans. As such, the area gets quite a lot of footfall, something that all buskers know is their bread and butter.
King’s Square is a sort of “Royal Albert Hall” of the busking world
I liked Andy Something (that was his actual stage name, I haven’t simply forgotten his surname), he seemed friendly and supportive and also didn’t try to make things awkward by talking to me for two hours until busking began. At some point, he simply made his exit and went and sat down nearby to read his book. I was comfortable with that and I decided to go off and buy a pastry from The Cornish Bakery. I was at the same place three weeks earlier with my boyfriend when I was showing him around York.
It was that trip with Ingemar that prompted me to go and try my hand at busking in York, as I decided I would be far more captivating than a sword swallower. I am capable of some pretty grandiose delusions at times, and I imagined myself as some sort of Disney Princess with a captive audience drooling over me and stuffing tenners down my brassiere. The truth was, the reality of being there to perform was now very much front-of-mind and I was a lot more sheepish about the prospects.
Miles Ahead of the Competition
By and by, another performer turned up. A good-looking, confident guy, dressed casually but smart. I could tell by his body language that he probably knew Andy, and that he was a regular busker in York. He walked over and picked up Andy’s book, which he’d left on the floor, made some sign of agreement at his choice of literature and then walked over to greet Andy. The two chatted cordially and I suddenly felt a little fish out of water. Andy introduced me, however, and I soon realised that I had seen him performing once before in Leeds.
His name was Miles, and his act was singing songs from musicals and Disney films. I thought that was a great choice for a place like York. Miles was also very friendly and willing to share his experiences of busking, recommending to me the best locations for “musos”, as he called us, and when his most productive times of day were. He informed me that he earns between one and two hundred pounds a day doing street performances and that it was a full-time occupation for him. This definitely piqued my interest and my little busking brain began to machinate.
My First Taste of Busking in York
At around 10:00am I decided I was going to set up my equipment and do a short busking session. The weather was still nice and people were beginning to mill around in large enough numbers that it would be worth giving it a try. I felt confident and at that time, both Andy and Miles had disappeared elsewhere. I began setting up my gear on my own. I had already agreed with Andy that I would start at 10:30 and play until 11:30, but I was ready now. I didn’t really feel nervous, if anything I was looking forward to it. I had decided in the morning that my main goal for the day was to have fun and do some singing – it always helps to mellow me out when I’ve had a good sing-song!
I finally got everything set up, fiddled a little with the dials on my amp and began playing You’ve Got To Hide Your Love Away, a song by The Beatles. It was going well but about half-way through I noticed that the light on my amp was flashing and it felt as though I wasn’t loud enough. Luckily, I’d come prepared and I had a fresh set of batteries in my bag. I quickly whipped out the old ones, shoved in the new ones and carried on. The sound was now much louder and I began again with a new song – The Times They Are A-Changin’, by Bob Dylan.
I quickly whipped out the old ones, shoved in the new ones and carried on.
I made my first pound sometime during my second or third song, but my bag was still looking very empty and I momentarily worried that it would stay that way. A quick reminder not to focus on the money. Deep breath. Keep playing and most importantly, enjoy yourself. Little by little, more money began to fill up in my bag and I breathed a sigh of relief. I had no idea what to expect and honestly, I wasn’t expecting anything. My main focus was giving a good performance.
Suddenly, my guitar went very quiet again. What could it be this time!? Surely it wasn’t the amplifier? I had just changed the batteries. I panicked for about a minute as a I fiddled around with every possible dial and cable I could think of. Suddenly, it dawned on me: I hadn’t changed the battery inside my semi-acoustic guitar in ages. I had to find a shop that sold batteries nearby and quick. I asked Andy – who was engaged in conversation with someone – if he knew where I could get Batteries. He told me to try Barnitts – apparently they had everything – but looking at the shop front, it was just a light shop!
I took his advice and headed for Barnitts. “I suppose you might need batteries for your lamp!”, was the predominant thought in my muddled mind. I went inside and asked a member of staff if they sold batteries. After a short pause, he told me they did and I was to follow him. He suddenly began leading me down a network of aisles that seemed to sell everything from ladies clothing to tools, wallpaper to fishing tackle, hell you name it, I even asked him if they sold takeaways at one point. Anyway, in short, they did have batteries. I grabbed the one I needed and paid for it as fast as I could.
I suppose you might need batteries for your lamp!
Back out on the street, I prayed that the battery would do the trick and it did! The weird thing is, exactly one day earlier it had crossed my mind that I hadn’t changed the battery inside my guitar for ages. It’s funny how these things work out, sort of feels like the universe is tickling us with a little feather duster sometimes. I was back in action. Again. For the third time. This time I played without any real interruption until 11:30 and at one point, a nice man gave me a five pound note.
I did manage to draw a few small crowds but they never really stuck around for long. A few people clapped politely at the end of some of my songs but that just made me nervous. If they didn’t clap after a certain song, I felt like they obviously didn’t care for that one. I had to remind myself once or twice to try and keep it light and entertaining as I caught myself slipping into a world of my own on a few occasions. I was much more aware in that location of the need to interact well with the audience.
To be honest, this had crossed my mind even before I got up to perform: that this little amphitheatre might not be the best location for a musician like myself, who is used to standing on the side lines and quietly entertaining. This location is known for its showstopping performers who are confident and experienced. I on the other hand, was just a quiet and introverted musician. Anyway, I had committed to playing there and I did. I don’t regret it.
By the end of my performance, I had made £20.
By the end of my performance, I had made £20. Not quite the fortune I had been dreaming of when I thought of busking in York but I had to accept that I had started at 10 in the morning, it was my first ever time in York, and that my act perhaps needed a little polishing. Anyway, I was chuffed with my first performance and I felt good about it so that’s something. If you come off stage sort of mentally kicking yourself in the teeth, that’s never a good sign.
Time For Some Professionals
I sat down on the bench above the performance square and gathered myself. It was now Andy’s turn to busk and he began setting up his equipment. While all this was happening, I was engaged in conversation with Miles, who told me more about busking and how he was going to drama school in September. As a result, I didn’t really pay much attention to the first part of Andy’s performance. Plus, I realised I had witnessed it three weeks earlier and he was the sword swallower that I was going to do much better than! Hah, here comes the universe with her little French tickler again!
When I finally did pay attention to Andy, I felt a deep sense of respect for him and he just had a likeable face, especially when he was ten-feet in the air wobbling around on a giant unicycle. But seriously, the way he worked the audience and held their attention was just fantastic. He did all of this without the aid of a microphone either. Just sheer lung power. He was wonderful to watch and I could sense the years of practice that must have gone into honing his act.
His act climaxed with him juggling fire on the unicycle, while blindfolded. This was what he promised his audience from the beginning and he delivered it. I remember there was one point when he wobbled on his unicycle and the only person that screamed out loud in that whole square was me. It felt like for a split second the whole crowd turned its attention to me, to which I smiled sheepishly and tried to disappear behind a tree. Thankfully, they were far too interested in seeing Andy potentially fall ten-feet out of the sky and smash his skull on the kerb, so the attention quickly shifted back to him.
I learned a lot from watching Andy and I knew almost instantly that what is missing from my performance is interaction with the audience. When it came time to collect money for his performance, Andy seemed to draw a lot more than me, and he also had a portable card reader, on which I saw at least three transactions being made. Because of the nature of his performance, Andy is required to win his audience over enough to convince them to stick around and pay him at the end. At this, I’d say he succeeded, considering it was still fairly early in the day.
I approached Andy once the buzz had died down and he’d finally got all his equipment off the stage. I congratulated him on a fantastic performance and I suddenly saw him in a totally different light. From when he first appeared on the scene at 08:30 in the morning, sullen and mysterious, he was like a different person now and he glowed with confidence.
Moving On Up
Anyway, I hung around for a little while to hear the beginning of Miles’ performance and then I said my goodbyes to Andy and headed off to try my luck in another location recommended to me by Miles. The location I was heading for is just opposite York Minster, near the Roman Column and at the entrance of Minster Gates, which leads onto Low Petergate. On the way, I passed another musician who was sitting near Fat Hippo in a little alcove created naturally by the curvature of the buildings as they wind along the medieval streets. He seemed a little scary, so I just walked past him, though his music was good and he had CDs for sale.
As I walked along Minster Gates, I heard the sound of a musician, which I was half expecting anyway as Miles had told me someone was already there on a classical guitar. I came out into the open space that looks onto the Minster, where the tourists congregate in large numbers to take pictures. I recognized the classical guitar player immediately as someone I have seen busking in Leeds before. A good player but someone I had never had interactions with.
I put my things down on the floor next to a sign that read “No busking between the hours of 830am and 6pm” and thought “Well, that’s not being observed” and went to introduce myself to the guitar player. It turned out his name was Rod and he was a rather likeable and friendly chap. I asked him if I’d be alright to take over the spot when he’d finished. As luck would have it, he was just leaving and had just played his last song, The Pink Panther theme tune! Luck seemed to be on my side, I thought.
No busking between the hours of 830am and 6pm
– Some bureaucrat no one cares about
As I began setting up, some large round-faced guy selling those annoying rubber bracelets to “raise awareness for mental health” came up to me and said “You’ve got a look of that David Bowie about ya. Bit of Ground Control To Major Tom an’ all that”. It was the second time I’d been compared to David Bowie in one week and I was getting a bit sick of it. I smiled weakly and said something about playing one or two of his songs then did my best to avoid eye contact with him.
Wind in The Willows – Joyless Edition
I also became aware of how bloody windy it was and I realised that there is a natural wind funnel in the opening between the Minster and the buildings opposite. Wind can be a nightmare for buskers. Not only can it blow away your equipment but it harasses you relentlessly, slowly wearing down your will to live. And it messes up your hair, that’s the worst part. I had made up my mind that I was going to make a day of this busking in York however, and I wasn’t going to give up so easily.
I got everything ready and began singing my first song. Within a few bars my guitar case, which I use to collect money, blew off the floor and sat vertically against my amp, threatening to fly away completely at any moment. I decided I had to weigh it down so I put my amp on top of it. The wind then simply blew the other half of my guitar case over the amp, as if to mock me, so I had to change it once more. This time I moved the amp to the windy side of the guitar case to block the wind before it had a chance to convert my case into an aeroplane.
The case stayed put, but the wind blew relentlessly and I played my way through about ten songs, managing to draw in another £10, before I decided to call it a day. I began to pack my stuff away, feeling slightly humiliated that the elements had defeated me in such a short time, but determined not to let it get me down. I packed all my things onto my person like some sort of mule and hobbled out of York, rather happy with my experience and glad that I had gone.
Homeward Bound
Although I didn’t make a lot money (in fact, I pretty much covered my train fair and the cost of batteries), I had a lot to think about and I was sure that the next time I went I would have a proper trolley for carrying my equipment and would have refined my act. I definitely think that if you’re going to attempt busking in York then you should have some sort of wheeled vehicle for carrying your equipment on. By the time I got home, I was walking like Bambi on ice and if I had walked ten minutes more I might have collapsed.
I returned home on the train and – having accidentally jumped on the “scenic route” instead of the direct train – I had some time to jot down my thoughts and look out at the beautiful scenery between York and Knaresborough. It was all rather idyllic till we hit Harrogate and then the train filled up with Friday night revellers heading for Leeds city centre to partake in that awful charade that is the pinnacle of British culture – getting pissed out of your brains and making an arse of yourself every weekend! God save the Queen, is what I say!
