Busker George Kamikawa combines a Japanese background and love of blues music to surprise and entertain passers-by.
THE melody of Melbourne can be heard in the clatter of trams, the clamour of footsteps and voices at Spencer Street, the slap of oars on the Yarra and the performances of the city's buskers, who sing, dance, pose and provoke on its street corners.
Known colloquially as the Japanese Blues Cowboy, George Kamikawa has been performing his own style of old-time blues on Melbourne streets for the past eight years. His soulful tunes bring a touch of country to the Bourke Street Mall most weekends as he plucks out songs on his lap steel guitar.
His instrument is scuffed and dinged, and tells the tale of hundreds of curbside gigs. In his leather jacket and cowboy hat, Kamikawa is a picture of urban cool.
A confirmed blues man, Kamikawa plays favourites such as Amazing Grace and Walking Blues, as well as his own compositions.
"Blues is very simple music, I feel very comfortable with it, and it makes it easy to have a jam with someone else," he says.
Apart from singing and strumming, he also uses a kick drum and harmonica to accompany his performances and is unfailingly polite and grateful to his audiences.
Originally from Japan, he went on holiday to New Zealand in 2001 and found himself busking there after an impromptu jam session in the street.
He came to Australia in 2001 and settled here, marrying his Australian wife, Sarah, three years ago. He and Sarah had a traditional Japanese wedding back in his home town near Nagoya, where Kamikawa tried his hand at busking on Japanese streets.
"It was nothing like performing in Australia," he says. "It is very competitive in Japan, and you can get hassled a lot by the police and the yakuza (organised crime groups).
"People in Melbourne are very friendly and generous, they enjoy culture here. I love Melbourne, it is a very beautiful city and I feel welcome."
Working on the street has its challenges; "It never rains for long in Melbourne, so I can just take a break for a while, but it is not nice playing when it is very hot."
Kamikawa taught himself to play guitar, with help from his older brother, Kazuhiro. He also writes some of his own songs. He has played at many festivals and also performs at local blues venues.
Last year he won the Australian Busking Championships in Mortlake and in 2004 was the winner of the Australian Country Music Busking Championship at the Tamworth Country Music Festival.
Back in Bourke Street, Kamikawa relaxes into the music and stares sedately into the distance, transported from the chaos and clamour around him. Despite the noise and activity, Kamikawa says he never finds it hard to concentrate on his music. A dad comes up holding his little girl's hand and hoists her onto his shoulders so she can see better. He's keen for her to soak up some of the atmosphere of this street-side performance.
Kamikawa likes the energy and rawness of busking and finds his biggest fans are at the extreme ends of the age spectrum; the children and the elderly who are more likely to groove along to his music and express their pleasure more openly. Busking is liberating and he gets a buzz from seeing others enjoy his performances.
"When I play music, I feel more free and connected to the people around me who come to listen. If somebody is enjoying my music, then I'm happy too."
Kamikawa has little time for new Melbourne Lord Mayor Robert Doyle's recent call to rid the city of bogans and bad buskers. "It was not a very nice comment," Kamikawa says.
"It doesn't make me very happy. From my point of view, I see people enjoying busking. Buskers are a part of Melbourne and I think people enjoy them."
Most of his earnings come in the form of gold coins, though once or twice a generous audience member has thrown a $50 note in his guitar case.
He's coy about disclosing exactly how much he earns on an average weekend, except to say that, with sales of his $20 solo CD, Blue to the Bone, he makes enough to get himself and Sarah through the week.
A homeless person sits behind Kamikawa, against the colourful graffiti-covered walls of a lane, and soaks up the sound of Kamikawa's playing.
A young boy approaches somewhat hesitantly and holds out a coin. Their hands meet as the coin is passed and smiles are exchanged.
Kamikawa strums up another tune, trams rattle past and a steady stream of shoppers surges down the mall. The pulse of Melbourne continues.
