Busking in their musical success
Artists are going back to basics to kick-start their music careers. Chris Schulz meets those making waves, entertaining on the streets.
Abearded man in a red shirt shuffles by. A woman with long hair and a backpack turns her head. A couple holding hands ignore them. It’s a slow start but as the duo standing on Wellington’s Courtenay Place begin banging drums and blasting a saxophone at a gathering crowd, the mood changes.
Ripples of applause can be heard. Kids start moving their hips. Students carrying a cask of wine and a box of beers catch the melody and burst into song as they walk by.
As the pair finishes, a woman steps forward and drops coins into their case. Someone starts cheering.
The duo’s January 2013 performance was filmed and uploaded to YouTube by someone who wrote in the description: ‘‘Came across this pair performing in Wellington City.’’
It’s among the first-known performances of Drax Project, one of New Zealand’s fastest-rising pop groups.
Known for their radio staple Woke Up Late, they’ve expanded to become a four-piece with plenty of success behind them, including recording and releasing their debut album, winning several New Zealand Music Awards and touring with Camilla Cabello and Lorde.
They’ve also performed to much bigger crowds than the handful gathered in inner-city Wellington that day.
In 2018, Ed Sheeran chose Drax Project to open for him at three Mt Smart Stadium shows, in front of 40,000 people each night. A year later, they were on before Six60, and set the record for the biggest-ever headlining show by a Kiwi band at Western Springs, attended by roughly 50,000 people.
On that summer evening in 2013, though, things were a little more humble.
Those standing outside Wellington’s Reading Cinema didn’t know they were watching the beginnings of a band.
Neither did the two Wellington music students featured in the clip. ‘‘That was our little spot – we’d be tucked under Reading [Cinema’s] foyer,’’ says Matt Beachen, the one hitting the drums and bashing a fair bit of cowbell.
Next to him was Shaan Singh, who’d invited his mate from music school to a casual busking session when his usual buddies dropped out.
‘‘I thought, oh yeah, why not?’’ says Beachen. He hadn’t busked before, but soon learnt upbeat covers tailored to the crowd were the way to go.
‘‘You’d figure out what kind of music people would like . . . If you see a hen’s do, they might like Katy Perry or Taylor Swift, or if you see some golden oldies [who’d] just finished dinner we’d play some Stevie Wonder.’’
Being a band wasn’t on their mind. The pair were just trying to make some money so they could buy dinner.
‘‘You’d take the cash from the saxophone case and go buy some burgers,’’ Beachen says.
‘‘You can’t abandon the drums and saxophone, so one of us was always there. There’s always music going.’’
On Saturday nights, they’d play all evening, often past midnight. They made good money, sometimes pulling in $600 each.
Things didn’t always go their way. ‘‘We got so many parking tickets busking,’’ says Beachen. ‘‘We got lazy with it. We were parking out the back of Reading. [The fine was] $60, an hour’s wage.’’
It was casual to start with, but things quickly got serious. The bar manager for El Horno liked what he heard and offered them a gig, which turned into a regular slot. They started receiving requests to play