The phantom guitarist of Clerkenwell

Active: c.2004-2007

During the brief heyday of the Libertines the music scene attracted various rock n’ roll chancers trying to cut a dash as decadent poets. Always male, they were easily identified at open mic nights by the regulation black leather jacket and battered trilby. Most have been absorbed back into the general population although a few cling on in Camden, the open air museum of British pop culture.

Clerkenwell Road, guitarist not in view.

   Around this time a tall character, dressed largely in black was making infrequent busking appearances on Clerkenwell Road, usually in the late morning or early afternoon. He would stand stock still on the pavement, then suddenly leap forward and thrust his guitar in front of him. A jerky performance would then begin, resembling a very lo-fi Gene Vincent. Chords were thrashed, and words bellowed out. Once he had completed a song to his own satisfaction, the guitar would fall back by his side and he would retreat, head bowed, to his previous position. There he would stand in silence until he thought it was time for another tune.

Unlike the other Doherty imitators, the phantom guitarist deserves inclusion here. There was zero interaction with passersby: no MySpace page was offered by him; no flyers were handed out. He was not even a conventional busker as no hat or case was put down to collect small change. And I never saw anyone attempt to give him money either. The combination of his loud voice, unsettling bodily movements, and terrible songs stopped him attracting a crowd of any size. He had no entourage, no female hanger-on. The lyrics were largely indecipherable, but leaned more to caveman rock than Rimbaud in converse. For the hardened Londoner he was exactly the type of person who needs to be given a wide berth. The only reason for his performance must have been to satisfy some personal notion of self-expression, rather than fortune or fame of any kind. Like a true ghost his appearances and disappearances could not be controlled by anyone, least of all I suspect, by him.

Sources: Personal knowledge; Robert Elms Show, BBC London 94.9.