gareth wiecko

that’s the thing with bourke street: it’s filled with all these musicians busking their craft in exchange for whatever coins you can spare. most of them are so-so, but i have to say some are just plain brilliant they deserve a stadium instead of a street for an audience. but i reckon it’s still a good way to get their names out there, at least. you know, hustlin’ it but on the down low.

of the number of times i’ve been through bourke, so far, there are only two artists i’ve found memorable enough to bother knowing their names:


woodlock, whom i first saw and heard playing “lemons” on my very first day in the city, way back in 2013. that song is special to me, not only because it’s an awesome song, but also because it reminds me of when i was fresh off the boat and breathing in melbourne’s artistic vibes filled my lungs with a deep love for the city.

i was like, “yep, i could definitely live here.”


now this one is probably out of character, as i’m not really into instrumental/classical music. i mean, sure, i listen to beethoven and mozart once in a while when i feel like injecting a bit of culture into my system to make me seem worldly but those times are pretty rare.

and by that, i mean i listen to them when i’m sad and my misery needs a good background music to set the tone for a full-blown depression.

but seriously, though, it’s amazing how music moves you. there’s something about it that tugs on your heartstrings like it’s cello. you know what i mean?

listening to gareth wiecko playing piano that day felt exactly that: i swear to god, his music touched my heart, right down to its calluses. i could sit there and listen for a long, long time. i honestly could. it was that beautiful to my ears. you can really feel the intensity of his passion radiating out of his keyboards.

i even caught raven swaying to the music a couple of times. this kid knows good music when she hears one. but then again, she dances to cheesy tv commercials too so i don’t know what gives.

now, i’m not really one to linger around buskers or give them money, for that matter, but last sunday, i did. and i gave him 5 bucks. the most i’ve ever given to a busker. to be honest, he deserves more than that but if i gave him more, i would be the one left busking begging on the streets. it might not have been much but rest assured i gave it wholeheartedly.

when jeff found out i gave the dude money, he complained while crossing the street (on his skates, of course.), “i wrote a song for you, you didn’t even give me 5 bucks!”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN?” i shouted back from about three meters from where he was. “I GAVE YOU MY LOVE!”

and that, my friends, is how you dodge a bullet.