I’m going to assume that this is a portmanteau of “busking” and “bostin”, and thus means some pretty good street musicians in the West Midlands.
The first Duke of Luxemburg was Wenceslaus I (but not Wenceslaus I of Bohemia, the Good King of the song). By the time that Playford published this dance in 1695, the Habsburgs were the dukes of Luxemburg along with the rest of the Netherlands and Belgium.
We all have our favourite dances related to gardening activities, yes?
Will Kemp was an actor in the Lord Chamberlain’s Servants who apparently “Did dance the famous morris unto Norwich” from London in what he called his Nine Daies Wonder. This is one of a few tunes that celebrate that event.
Piccadill is a sort of 17th-century lacework used in collars. When this dance was published by Playford in 1665, the street in London was called Portugal Street, but a lot of piccadills were sold there.
It has nothing to do with the tasty yellow sandwich filling of unknown content.
This started life in the very early days of the Bastard English session, in the Half Moon in Oxford. In those days there was a List™ of tunes that would definitely be encountered, and the Winster Gallop was on that list. Paul Hartwell chose it, picked up his harmonica, and…realised he had the wrong harmonica. Now I can’t play it any other way.
By the way, that session’s on tomorrow, but it’s now in the Isis Farmhouse.
Also given the title “the slip”.
An otherwise untitled dance in Playford.
This pan pipe (these pan pipes? I need a proo freader) was a secret Santa present from Hereburgh. Between practising, doing other things, and the delay between recording a tune and publishing it, it’s taken two months to get into the mix.
I had my adenoids removed as a teenager so I had to take advantage of a cold to get that full-on folkier than thou voice. This explains doing a May song in the middle of January (though I suppose I could have chosen a more timely song).