Have any of you had the good fortune to pass this busker on Oxford Street recently?
He drums on plastic tubs and other sundry household items perhaps for fun or economic exigency. I imagine the tupperware-based kit is a lot easier for a busker to lug around than a standard drumkit. It sounds different too, as you would imagine. More punchy. He must have to hit each ‘drum’ a lot harder than normal to get the same volume as a conventional skin. I approached the main drag from a side-street, and found myself drawn by the intoxicating drumming sounded irresistible.
It went like this
After he had finished I went and shook him by the hand, I had enjoyed it so much. I was shocked by how hard his palms were! They were heavily calloused (like old feet) from years of obsessive drumming. I would have stayed and listened for hours but I had to rush off into the underground bundle at Bond Street.
Check out this natty graf I found in the seedy back alleys of notorious Chiswick:
…And so his liver slipped away, ever distrusting,
He felt he would one day make his mark.
A prince of aesthetics, a creature
Of slim frame
Full of endorphin.
… BEHOLD JESUS
Make of this what you will. I instantly decided that I quite liked it. You can probably work out a lot about the author of this apocryphal text by the fact he uses block capitals (be they small and messy), aggressively crosses out his mistakes (wants to conceal his mistakes, and boldly applies the word ‘aesthetics’ in graffiti, spelled correctly. As we all know, all proper graffiti has to have spelling mistakes and references to private parts (eg ‘My cock smels of apples’ – see critique by Quentin Bumboy in Viz magazine some years ago). However, all we get is internal organs. I think the ‘liver’ lets it down a bit. Perhaps ‘foreskin’ would have been more apposite. The author is clearly not worried about pushing the proverbial envelope.
The prophet must have had this particular wall in mind – it is black like a school blackboard, so he must have especially made sure he had some chalk in his back pocket before he left the house. Unless he was transporting some for an unknown reason and was spontaneously inspired. Was the school reference intended? If he had planned this graf, I would not be surprised if he had pre-written the message, which makes me feel he does not have much else on. Says the guy writing the blog about it.
Is Christ risen as a nu-rave trendy? Has he taken too much pill and his liver gone for a walk? Is he still Jewish? Is it hard being called Jesus in this day and age, or does it help him blend in with the Hoxtonites all the more?
I think if anything have proved that this is a work of deep complexity and originality, shocking us into action with the morbid grasp of our own zombie-ish conformity. It therefore must be a Banksy.