Annie, The Urban Gypsy.

I found this urban gypsy, Annie, rocking a violin by the entrance to Left Bank Arcade. Her sign told me she’d only been playing since September; I’d have guessed closer to 2 years by the seamlessness of her sound. I listened to her for a couple of minutes, mostly playing folk riffs I vaguely recognized from my high school Celtic band days but couldn't (and still can't) remember the names of. I get the feeling she’d do well out here on St Patrick’s Day.

Her beautifully written sign also told me that any money made from busking will go towards paying for lessons; the mark of a true music-lover: playing on the street for the ability to invest in better playing.

“You’re doing better than I ever did at learning violin.”

I bought a violin a couple of years ago, hoping to learn the intricacies of a baroque instrument but never made it past the hideous bow-screeching, nails down a chalkboard phase before giving up in frustration.

“Thanks!”

“Hey, I was wondering if you might want to help me out with a little creative project I’m trying to kick off, 

have you heard of a project called Humans of New York?”

She thought for a bit before replying enthusiastically with

“Oh…Humans of Cuba Street?”

“Yeah, what I want to do is sort of similar to that…”

She responded with largely the same level of intrigue as the others I've approached, an increasingly encouraging occurrence for an anxious young writer trying to put an idea into practice.

I asked her the question of the day, which I’ll change on an “as I feel like it” basis. Maybe I’ll make it a different question for every day I go out on a busker hunt.

“If you could give everyone in the world one piece of advice, what would it be?”

“It is never too late to start learning…EVER…and you don’t have to learn things the way everyone says you do.”

I cannot think of a more appropriate piece of advice for her to have given than this. Here she was playing an instrument she’d been learning for less than a year, of course I wasn't so bold as to ask her age but I’d guess within 5 years of myself (I'm 20) and probably wouldn't be far wrong, and this was the best piece of advice she thought to give in the spur of the moment. I've found that generally speaking in life, it’s a rare occurrence to find a match between someone giving advice and living it at the same time.

As well as a clear talent for violin, Annie had an infectious smile, and a radiance I doubt I’ll forget for a long time. Hell, I doubt I’ll forget most of the characters I meet through this project for a long time, if ever.

To witness Annie’s string skills for yourself, bop on down to the middle of Cuba Street on a weekend, next to the Left Bank entrance and look for the eclectically dressed lass with the bright blue eyes. Be sure to leave a contribution toward her lessons too, it’s a worthwhile investment. 

The Organised Londoner, Scott.

“You sure?”

He asked me as I handed him a five dollar note and an utterly insufficient compliment.

Was I sure? About giving five bucks to a dude with big enough balls to rock a Katy Perry song in the middle of the street? Fuck yeah I was sure!

“Yeah, it does sort of come with a catch though.”

I introduced myself and explained a little bit about the project. He told me his name (Scott) and gave me his cell phone number, just in case I ever wanted to jam, all within thirty seconds of me sitting down next to him.

Scott has to go down as one of the coolest Londoners I've thus far met in my life. I soon learned that he was not only a regular busker but a songwriter too.  We seemed to share a lot of common ground.

“Have you heard of the Fringe bar?”

“Na man.”

“It’s a little bar on Allan Street, just off of Courtenay Place. They have an open mic there on Tuesday nights. You should go along and play some of your stuff, it’s a really supportive environment.”

“Yeah, cheers, I’ll check it out.”

At this point, I noticed he had a clear-file sitting at his feet. It was presently open to a page containing the chords and lyrics for “Roar”, the song he was playing when I stopped to listen.

“Can I have a look through?”

“Yeah, go for it.”

 The whole thing was full of guitar chords and lyrics to just about every song you’d hope to hear from an acoustic guitar playing singer on the street. He had everything in there from Mumford and Sons to Oasis.

With his playlist in my hands, an idea occurred to me.

“Hey, would you mind if I sang one with you?”

“Not at all, take the lead.”

“I’ll just look for one I like.”

After a minute or so of flicking through, I settled on an acoustic rendition of Outkast's “Hey Ya”, a tune I have committed to memory and play numerous times whenever I go out busking myself.

We slid into a functional recreation of the song with me singing for the most part and him offering back up vocals and of course the chords in support. I managed to draw a few amused looks from passers-by (one of which being my older brother which made for a random but enjoyable brief reunion) and couldn't keep a smile off my face. That song is sorta my jam.

Again having gotten far more than I bargained for out of the experience (a theme I am now thinking will become commonplace as this project progresses) I thanked Scott for his time and left him to his playing and his friend from the hostel he’s staying at who was walking by and stopped to request “Redemption song.”

To catch Scott in action, head down towards the Cuba/ Dixon Street intersection (I found him near there across from where the SpecSavers is). I caught him on a Saturday afternoon circa 1 pm but he assured me he’s out all over the city at various times throughout the week and on weekends, including in the evening. Check out his clear-file of songs too, there’s bound to be one out of the 30 odd he has in there that you’ll like or ask him to play one of his originals for you. 

The Journey Begins...Chris and Rob

The Wellington Railway Station was not where I had planned to begin the journey that is this project. I had planned to start on the street that I consider (along with every other Wellingtonian I'm sure) to be the cultural capital of the cultural capital city.  Unfortunately (which later revealed itself to be a case of good fortune) no-one was out playing on Cuba Street when I wandered by.

Disheartened by the lack of performers out in the middle of a sunny Saturday morning on THE street to perform on, I strongly considered calling the day a loss, having lunch somewhere and jumping a bus back home. 

Naturally, I ended up at the railway station. I reasoned that on the off chance someone was playing down there, I’d be able to kick this project off and if not, I’d conveniently be right by a bus stop.

As I descended the steps to the station and walked through the corridor towards the platforms, I came across Chris (On the left in the photo) sitting against a wall with a guitar in front of him. He looked friendly enough for my first ever Buskers of Wellington feature so in one of many “fuck it” moments I'm sure will come throughout the course of this project, I opted to strike up a conversation.

“You on a break?”

He nodded

“Mind if I sit down for a chat?”

“Na.”

I gave him my first ever “pitch” and quickly explained what the project was about

“Basically I think a lot of people are a bit phobic towards buskers so I want to start up a blog featuring 

buskers from around the city to introduce them to people and just create a level of personability between buskers and the public.”

His eyes widen and he looks at me with intrigue.

"We’re not like, legit buskers though. We’re just homeless.”

At this point I was unsure of who he was referring to as “we” but I decided to go into follow-up mode. Through further conversation I soon discovered that Chris was just minding the guitar for his friend Rob (On the right in the photo). He assured me Rob would be back within a half hour so I decided to stay in the hopes of also talking to him.

I'm inclined toward initial disagreement with him as to whether or not he is a “legitimate” busker so I decided to put his modesty to the test.

“Can you play anything?”

 “I broke the string.”

“What were you playing when you broke it?”

“Only To Be, by Six 60.”

With this, my earlier suspicions were confirmed.

To me, anyone who is able to perform a piece of music in a public setting, with some sort of case or container out for optional donations, without causing any sort of trouble or offense is absolutely a legitimate busker, regardless of their living situation.

I hadn't been in conversation with Chris too long before Rob showed up. Despite being a little bit taken aback by the mishap with the string, he was equally interested in my work and equally willing to share a few words with me.

Before I managed to get any out though, Chris flagged down a passer-by carrying a guitar case and asked him if he could fix the string on Rob’s instrument. As it turned out, the string had not broken but come loose from the guitar, something I would've noticed if I hadn't just taken Chris’ word for it being broken and also something I could've fixed myself for them. Fortunately this man passing through was equally happy to stop and fix it up for them.

With the guitar string fixed and Rob a little more settled, the time seemed right to get a bit more conversation going with him.

“What’s your favourite song to play?”

After a brief moment of deeply considered thought he responded with

“What people like…”

For myself, this would have been a plenty sufficient response but for the sake of interesting reading I opted to badger him a bit further and see if I couldnt get a specific song name.

“No Matter What.”

“Who’s that by?”

“I'm not sure… maybe Boyz…Boyzone.”

I took his word for it and took my cue to shut up and let the man play.

I stayed for the most genuine rendition of Louis Armstrong’s “What a Wonderful World” I’ve ever heard. The man had smoked just enough cigarettes in his life to have the perfect husky tone whilst still having a voice. He barely made a sound beyond a rasp when he spoke but HOLY SHIT could he ever belt that tune. That’s a sound that’ll stick in my head for a long time.

Having witnessed what I came to see and having received much more than I ever bargained for from what was essentially a friendly “hey, do you mind if I sit here and talk to you?” I left the two the standard donation I told myself I’d leave for every busker I approached during this project (regardless of whether they end up agreeing to participate in the project) and headed back up toward Cuba Street to see if I couldn’t find myself some performers over that-a-ways now that it was a little later in the day.

If you want to see Rob in action (trust me,you do) he told me he’s out pretty much every day down at the railway station from around 7am to 12pm and sometimes later in the afternoon as well. If you find yourself in the area, consider tossing a buck or two, or three or four or five+ into his case and be sure to ask him to sing “What a Wonderful World” for you!