ASHEVILLE, N.C. (828newsNOW) — Professional street busker Billy Scribbles advertises “Free Banjo Lessons and Exorcisms” in big, bold type on his business card. He means it, too.
Scribbles, 41, has been busking since his early 20s. Yet the musician did not grow up in the Catskill Mountains of New York with any grand ambitions of becoming one.
As he tells it, that happened mostly by chance.
“My first busk was by accident,” Scribbles recollected. “I was just drinking, I was in my early 20s. I was on Lark Street in Albany, and I sat down with my acoustic guitar and some guy threw me a dollar. I’m like, there could be something to this.”
Scribbles started busking by banjo after meeting legendary folk musician Pete Seeger, playing music with him at monthly jam sessions.
Scribbles told a story about hunting down a 1954 album by Seeger, “How to Play the 5-String Banjo.” He saw it was on sale in a store for $11.
“I was like, ‘I’m gonna go busking and buy this with money I made busking.’ I made $1.83. So, I was like, may as well go to the Wendy’s and hit the dollar menu, and they had no dollar menu,” Scribbles laughed.
“Whoof, I’m bad at this,” he remembered thinking.
Today, all his meals come from busking. His travel does, too. Scribbles spends much of the year traversing the United States, playing music and staying with friends he makes along the way. Or, more often, sleeping in his car.
“It’s rough and it’s hard,” Scribbles admitted. “At first, it was a lot of ‘I might die out here.’”
Yet, committing to the street busking lifestyle, Scribbles said, is worth any pain and uncertainty that might come with it. Buskers are their own boss, their own landlord and live a life of present spontaneity.
Something Scribbles loves about busking is its ability to reintroduce the banjo to people skeptical of bluegrass music. Most folks, he said, are only familiar with the instrument through its depiction in stereotypes like the 1972 film “Deliverance” or the 1960s television series “The Beverly Hillbillies.”
“It sucks because there’s so much beauty and history and culture to the instrument and then people just know one film. It’s the work you’re doing when you’re out here with a banjo. You’re showing people another side of things,” Scribbles said. “They also think it’s just like twangy bluegrass, but there’s beautiful melodic old-time songs. Old mountain tunes that almost sound medieval or Renaissance-era or something.”
The music Scribbles plays is not only old mountain songs or ancient-sounding ballads, either. He writes his own music, too. One song he is particularly proud of is an instrumental tune called “Vagabonds Return.”
Scribbles wrote “Vagabonds Return” after returning to the Catskill Mountains after a long time away from home. The song popped into his head when he was driving up into the mountain range and saw the fog lifting off the mountain caps.
“It’s great when people think a song I wrote is an old folk song,” Scribbles smiled. “I’ll have people be like, ‘Oh, that’s a cool song, can you teach me how to play that? What’s the name of it?’ I’ll tell ’em, I’ll teach ’em, but I won’t tell them it’s a song of mine.”
It makes Scribbles happy to share music through an oral tradition, like the folk musicians he learned from.
“I took out the banjo, I started playing it and the song wrote itself a little bit,” Scribbles said. “It’s fun, man. Just sharing art with people.”
Which brought Scribbles back to his business card.
“Yeah, yeah, free banjo lessons and exorcisms. It’s kinda like my way to pay off my karmic debt from traveling, you know?” Scribbles said. “I’ve had a lot of good luck on the road. Every time something godawful happens immediately there’s somebody there to help me.”
Scribbles told stories about his car breaking down and strangers fixing it for free, or his own body suffering and friends letting him crash at their place while he nursed himself back to health.
“It’s a lot of things like that where I should be screwed and then some blessing comes out of nowhere like a miracle. I figured free banjo lessons are a way of giving something back,” Scribbles said. “So I’m not just taking, taking, I had to find a way to give something. I don’t have a lot to give, that’s the thing. All I have is a little bit of knowledge I can share.”
Other pieces of knowledge Scribbles shared were the rules of street busking etiquette. The busking scene changes dramatically in Asheville year to year, he said, but certain rules stayed the same.
For fellow buskers, Scribbles said it was an unspoken rule to be mindful of the volume of their performance. Buskers who use an amp can harm acoustic busking scenes because the amplified noise of the machines might monopolize a busking area. Additionally, there are several busking spots that develop over time in cities. When a new busker disregards these spots, they may neutralize an entire block because the distance between buskers is thrown off balance.
For audiences enjoying a busking performance, Scribbles had two big pieces of advice. The first was to tip. Buskers like Scribbles make their livings from their music and taking up space to watch them without tipping can mean the difference between eating or not. The second was to mind personal space. While filming a busker is typically alright, Scribbles advised against waving a camera in their faces. They are performers, but people, too.
Scribbles mentioned time and time again how much he loved people. The friends he has made nationwide from busking were the major takeaway from his work. Whether in Asheville, the Catskills, out in the desert or up in the Midwest, Scribbles has friends. Part of that is from people listening to his music. Part of it is from Scribbles listening to them.
Stickers that Scribbles gives out from his guitar case read “Billy Scribbles is a friend of mine.” After meeting him, it would be hard not to feel that way.
“My philosophy with everything is just bare your heart and soul and the people that are meant to find you will find you,” Scribbles mused. “I try to be my truest, most authentic self, and whatever beautiful thing I have in me to share, I try to put out there for everyone to see.”
Scribbles can be found busking around the country. To follow along with his travels, check out his Instagram, @billyscribbles. To read more about his experiences in Asheville, his book “Gas Station Tales” can be purchased on Amazon.