Busking on Blisters - Chapter 6

Busking On Blisters

By Paul McCann

Chapter 6

 

Gold On The Street    

 

Soft rain welcomed me to Ireland and as I looked at the city from the ferry, the sun broke through an overcast sky . The colours of a rainbow arched themselves over the land as the sea link ferry docked at the Port of Dublin . In a short passage of time I had disembarked form the ferry in the car and drove along the Thomas Clarke Bridge to the city centre where I parked in a place there in Jervis Street  .

After I booked a room at a hotel in Lower Stephen street I took my guitar and went for a walk . The rain had gone ad the sun shone upon a wild rose there growing on the side of the street , it was beautiful to see it there, between a crack on the hard pavement . No other rose could have been as wild I suppose with a rare beauty defying the harsh environment that surrounded it . I looked at its soft petals there that had fallen on the concrete and picked them up .  I held them in my hands there for a moment and wanted to tell the whole world that I loved that rose that had found life in a lonely place on the street of Dublin but I let the petals fall from my hand and walked away in silence across the Liffey Bridge . Under the bridge the river flowed  out to sea and over the bridge a rainbow stretched itself for all to see . I thought for a moment about rainbows and if there was gold at the end where ever that was . If only it were true I would fly to the sky and fill my pockets for a future where life could be so easy for me but I may as well build a castle in the sky and row a Curragh boat  peacefully through the milky way . Onwards I went across the bridge to find a place to play a few songs for people to hear where ever that place was I had no idea .

I walked into Grafton Street that had a queue of buskers waiting to get a spot where they could play  .I was told I needed get a license from the council to play in Grafton Street to busk . The place was alive with sound and excitement as people stampeded through the place with no end to the flurry of feet . I kept walking in search for a place to place but everywhere I went from street to street the scene was the same  . I was in awe of the number of buskers who where there . On every corner of every street there was a talent so unique that they could make the big time  anywhere in the world . I kept walking and looking for an hour and in the end I thought I’d come back later on in the evening and try again .

Later in the evening I returned to Temple Bar and found it was even busier than in the day .   It was the same story as time went on and I learnt a lot about what made this place tick  . It was explosive and passionate .  

 Life on the streets of Dublin was at a fast pace and if you blinked you would miss and if you tried to catch up with it you would need rockets in your shoes or wings on your back . There was something rare and raw about this place . It was a city with a history that had already captured  tomorrow . There was an essence of taste in a colourful way that suited the moving picture show on the streets of Dublin like a musical jigsaw with so many buskers and musicians performing on the city streets . Buskers a living testimony of how the Irish love music and song . You can see it everywhere you go in a living legacy of pictures from life’s puzzle that spans centuries of suffering and hardship . It’s passionate and provocative and its talks about the hungry years of the famine as well as the virtues that have risen from oppression . Music and songs have  embedded themselves into the foundation stone of the Irish nation .

The Irish have strived to share this passion as a tribute to accepting what they could not change . Generations of people have emigrated from Ireland bringing with them the wealth of their music and songs all over the world . Laying down tracks , recording their stuff and keeping the tradition alive  . The Irish impact across the world has been felt in every place they have made their home . I think Irish culture and is like an endless song performed with delicate precision from their heart and  soul kissed by the blessing of God . The Irish have a sad history but after every tear there is a smile hidden in a brave disguise waiting to emerge . The tracks of Irish tears have been etched with deep emotions in the songs they sing and the music they play . Listen to them and you will become connected to something strong and powerful . It will make you want to dance and sing . It will make you feel welcome where ever you come from , like a lost son or daughter who has been away for many years . When you discover that you’ll understand their sorrow and see life in a different way . It an extraordinary thing . There are songs with lyrical guts and melodies with heavenly airs all born from suffering . Bob Dylan once said if a song has been suffered for it will last that’s why Irish music has survived for so long . Dublin is like the mouth that speaks for the people and it will sing to you and toast your good health . It will ask you questions and tell you stories of wonder in this life that is full of conflict and change , challenge and success . What better hero is there than talent that comes to show an escape from  the social closet of the times we live and the needs we have . Talent doesn't just doesn't happen , it's worked for very hard and its suffered for . I saw it there everywhere on the streets of Dublin where buskers arte queueing up to play everyday to the passing parade of tourists and locals .

In Temple Bar at night their was some excellent live music . I started to meet some of the people . I met this band of Hooligans who had come to Dublin from Australia where they had lifted the roof off some of the Irish pubs there n Melbourne . As it  turned out The Hooligans were originally known as Irish Heartbeat with their singer from Dublin . Apart from singing Ben Flood also played guitar , banjo, fiddle, Mandola ,Mandolin, Whistle and Saxophone . Ben had brought the band to Ireland with a lot of songs to play . The band called themselves The Hooligans . They were all from different places in the world .  Linzee played the Bodhran , Bass Guitar and also acoustic guitar . Quentin spoke Zulu and grew up in South Africa . Dave was from Australia and worked as an editor with a newspaper in Victoria . He played  keyboards , electric guitar and did backing vocals . Francie was another Aussie who   did the sound engineering as well as playing the Didgeridoo in the band  .
I spoke to Ben who was quick with the wit and with a wicked sense of humour you were always sure of a laugh . The band were a friendly bunch despite their looks and name  . Ben came from a housing estate in Dublin called Ballyfermot . He said he emigrated to Australia in the eighties and put together a band called The Celts who were played around the pubs in  Melbourne .

I asked him one night ,  music the Hooligans play . Here is a little of what was said .
“So tell me about Ballyfermot . What was it like growing up there ?”

He thought for a moment and replied

‘In the early days there were a lot of things happening like school and stuff and I remember there was always music going in the local hall .“

“What age were you when you started playing guitar ?  I asked .

“ I was about 15 when I played bits of songs on the guitar. Some Bob Dylan songs and some Simon & Garfunkel . “ He said .

“So did you always live there in Ballyfermot ?”  I asked  him and he replied .

“I moved to Clare and it was after that when I was drawn to Irish traditional music and fell in love with it even though I was from Dublin city . “

“Where does the Hooligans play in Melbourne ?” I asked and he said  .

“Basically down under in Australia on Friday nights we play at  an Irish pub called  Molly Blooms “

I asked him what the crowd was like there and he said,

“The crowd there are young and they drink hard . They party on and we play loud and fast with stuff of our own and some material from The Pogues “

“Where else do you play ?” I asked and he replied .

“On Wednesdays, Thursdays and Sundays we play at Bridie O’Riellys in Little Collins Street . The crowd there are as little quieter  there .So we play softerkind of ballads and Irish traditional stuff .”

I said to him ,

“I’ve come over from Australia to do some busking but I’ve found Dublin a very busy place and can’t get a spot anywhere .”

“Join the club . You know lots of professionals come here to busk in Dublin . Its like the testing ground for new material . “ He said .

“Ok now I see . So where can I find a spot to play ? ” I asked .

Ben laughed and said ,

“Apart from the top of O’Connell Street after midnight in the rain there’s always a chance if you ask one of the buskers there , they might let you in to do a song during their gig . I don’t know . It’s worth a try “

“Thanks for the advice.” I said .

“Listen we have to catch a bus . I’ll see you later .“ He said .

The Hooligans left the bar and I started to think over what he had said so I returned to the hotel and got my guitar and walked to O’Connell street in the rain . It was after  midnight and I started busking .There was nobody on the street but me . I played a few songs and my echoes sounded like a rag and bone man asking for business .

In the distance I saw the shape of shadow emerge that slowly transformed into a man and he walked up towards me in the rain . I kept playing the cover of a U2 song, He approached me where I played outside the GPO and put his big arms around me and gave me a bear hug that nearly smashed my guitar .

“I love you .“

He said and then he walked away .

It was good that I had pleased somebody . So it was worth the effort . Dublin is a hard City to busk in but I found it a pretty place to visit .

I decided to make my way to Belfast in the North and do some busking for a week or two depending on the response . I learnt a lot in Dublin about life and a rare breed of people who come there to busk their music from all over the world . Its like a huge party where everyone’s invited free of charge to come and listen .

It was still summer in Dublin and the Liffey was stinking with beer . The streets were crowded with buskers and the tourists had all come to hear , the songs of passionate people with the music of life in their veins with dreams of rainbows and rivers and gold on the streets with no names .

 

End of Chapter 6        

 

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Link To Chapter 7 

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