Room 6

A dark narrative on a  central London squat I stayed in  during the early nineties,my heavy Lou Reed period.  

you·ve already been programmed

"Rules and models destroy genuis and art."

William Hazlett

I´m hardly qualified to comment on issues regarding the current system or media culture. I´m not a political scientist or an academic. I´m just a free thinking street artist who see things from a different angle, in a way I´m on the outside looking in.

Although we may not be living a 1984 scenario. I suspect certain governing authorities base some of their ideas and policy’s along similar lines. They promote the same nightmare, only they soften it up with bland pop culture and other forms of suspect propaganda.

You may not realize it but you, yourself are at this moment being indirectly fed both media culture and suspect propaganda….Television and radio dictate to you. They tell you of how it is and of how it should be. World news is filtered and  biaised, while the football saturated newspapers are conveniently sensationalized. We´re left laboring our lives away, holding tightly on to undervalued material possessions.

Perhaps stepping out is·nt such a far away option.

Bon Jovi, it's my life (cover) - busking in the streets of Brussels, Bel...

Check this street trio out.
Gigs in the street.

                        Will you ever stop busking ?  

No  I  don’t  think  I  could , once  you  start  it’s  hard  to  stop , once  you  realize  how  easy  it  is  to  step  outside  and  how  the  majority  of  people  don't  really  give  a  shit  and  how   eventually  you  don't  either , your  hooked .

Its  who  you  are  and  what  you  do , it  takes  something  to  be  a  street  musician  or  a  busker   . Its  not just  something  that  you  decide  to  do , your  kind  of  like  born  with  it , I  think .

No  I  won't  stop , I’m  too far  involved  with  it . Its  not  so  much  the  money  either , in  my  case  thats  a  minor  factor , part  of  the  process  but  not a  vital aspect . I  would  pay  to  busk  if  I  had  to .

I  think  we’re  all  born  with  a  destiny  and perhaps I’ve  found  mine .

Here you go

Welcome to another weekly session of relative opinions and statements regarding street entertainment.

Places to busk

I  couldn’t  believe  it , there  it  was , U.V.F , sprayed  up  there  with  the  rest  of  it . Where  the  fuck  was  I .

                                          Cartagena

Not  pretty , not  ugly  and  not  a  backpackers  place . Not  big  not  small  and  not  a  lot  of  busking  going  on  either . Well  theres  some  but  not  much , you  could  nearly  do  without  pitching  here .

Cartagena  is  certainly  a  navy  town  boasting  Spain's  first  naval  military  base  and  it  also  credits  the  invention  of  the  first  torpedo  powered  submarine .

I  did  a  pitch  on  the  calle Florentin , one  of  the  centre  cut off’s . I  made  a  few  tips , an  old  lady  offered  me  half  a  packet  of  biscuits . That  happens  when  people  are  unfamiliar  with  what  you  are  doing .

There  was  something  else  I  had  to  do  while  I  was  here , well  this  is  a  navy  town  and  I  knew  the score . Sailors  bars  can  be  rough , but  theirs  plenty  of  loose  woman  there .

I  ended  up  with  a  middle aged  fatty  still  on  her  moons . That  didn't  bother  me , man  I  was  really  thirsty  and  I  was  tired  of  bashing  my  bishop . We  took  a  night bus  to  the  other  side  of  Cartagena , indeed  a  Spanish  housing  estate , believe  it , it’s  not  all  villas  and  beach  apartments  here . Bad  graffiti  and  burnt  out  stolen  cars  blocked  the  entrance .  A  Manchester  no go  area , only  warmer , just  that . I  did  it  once  at  night , I  did  it  again  in  the  morning , blood ´n`all . What’s  the  difference  it  saved  me  a  magazine , of  which  can  be  pretty  expensive , I  got  a  place  to  stay  too .

Outside  it  was  an  ugly  grey  day  maybe  reflecting  my  dry  mouth , bad  nerves , deep  regret  and  blood  stained  trousers . I  was  indeed  greeted  with  hostile  stares  from  dark  skinned , hard  looking  types , some  were  young  some  were  a  bit older .

They  asked  me  where  I  was  going  and  what  I  was  doing . After  I  told  them  I  didn't  have  any  money  and  with  the  help  of  my  Am harmonica  I  then musically  described  to  them  what  I  was  planning  on  doing . I  had  to  improvise , I  may as well go  down  with  a  blues  note  or  two , not  just  with my  blood  stained  trousers . They only  laughed  and  wished  me  the  best  though .