BONJAH

Sounds from the Streets - as their music heads sky-high, we talk to the lads from New Zealand’s BONJAH band about taking the busking path to fame.

In the unforgiving world of commercial music, there’s no virtue as valuable as persistence — something Melbourne-based Kiwi outfit BONJAH knows all too well. Having toiled for more than a decade, the virtuosic folk/roots act have busked their way to the brink of musical greatness. At the end of a whirlwind national tour, which saw them open Phillip Island’s famed Pyramid Rock Festival, then join the legendary likes of Ziggy Marley, Eddy Grant and Shaggy in the Raggamuffin festival, the band sits perched over Melbourne’s sunny CBD at the Match Bar & Grill, taking in a rare day off.

“It was an absolutely mind-blowing, brilliant experience,” says bass guitarist David Morgan of playing among the world’s roots elite. “We learned more in the last four weeks at Raggamuffin, watching those guys playing, than we have in the last 11 years,” he adds with a smile.

Originally from picturesque Tauranga, New Zealand, the band boldly relocated to Melbourne without a dollar to their name two years ago, picking up the city’s last ever full-band busking license. It was a far cry from the offices of corporate law, where the band found drummer Dan Chisholm.

“The law degree was a bit of a family tradition, so I thought, ‘yeah, I’ll give it a nudge too’,” he grins broadly. “But law was not really my passion. It’s amazing to actually do something that you’re excited about — passionate about — rather than doing it to earn good money or something like that.”

And so the Kiwis set out, living exclusively off their earnings from playing the streets. “We always had that dream, before we came to Australia — living off our music,” reveals guitarist Regan Lethbridge. “When we arrived, we realised the only way we could actually do that was to get out there on the streets, playing and selling CDs.”

And so they did, with Lethbridge and frontman Glenn Mossop writing the song lyrics and music about their own stories and those around them, and the band in its entirety developing the catchy, driving arrangements.

“It was tough — there were a few times in the first year that we were a bit down, but we never, ever gave up,” Lethbridge confirms. “It was never a question of, ‘let’s pack up and go home’, it was always ‘how do we move forward?’

“In retrospect, it was those sort of moments that defined us. Once you’ve been through really tough times like that — not eating much, not having money to pay for your broken van — it just shapes your character.”

“We were determined to do it full time and do everything ourselves,” adds Mossop huskily. “We just wanted to grow, and grow quick, and by coming to Australia by ourselves and not getting any jobs, we did it hard — it’s paying off.”

Indeed it is. After proving to be one of the country’s hardest working bands by self-producing and often promoting each of their three EPs, BONJAH have established themselves as a Melbourne music institution and a national live staple. About to release their debut LP Until Dawn — a freshly recorded assortment of 13 of the band’s very best tracks to date — the band’s song “Fly” has also been selected as Jetstar’s new anthem to launch their Auckland flights.

“We’re really flattered by it,” shrugs Lethbridge. “It’s a huge opportunity — I discovered a lot of artists like Jose Gonzalez from ads. We’re really stoked, especially because it’s in New Zealand where we’re from.”

However, BONJAH aren’t a group about to forget their humble beginnings — they can still be seen almost weekly, busking tirelessly on the corner of Melbourne’s Swanston and Bourke Streets.

“At a gig, people choose to be there — they buy tickets, they want to see it,” percussionist James Majernik (affectionately known as “Maj”) explains. “But on the street, people don’t have to sit down and watch. They can just walk past and keep going about their day.

“It’s amazing when you see people walk past, and they get halfway down the street then turn around and slowly walk back to sit down. There’s something magic about playing on the street,” he smiles. “The only thing that’s making people stop is purely the music.”

A quirky mash-up of bongo and banjo, the band’s name, BONJAH, is also by chance a bilingual expression of “good energy” (from the French “bon” and Rastifarian “jah”). It’s an accidental moniker that couldn’t be more fitting — central to BONJAH’s modus operandi is a unique community contribution. Aside from busking, the band plays a huge number of community concerts, including festival workshops, schools, community centres and fundraising performances through Australian children’s charity, Variety.

Maj recalls one of the most memorable performances of the past year. “There was one child who was seriously disabled — blind, crippled — all he had was his hearing. We came in and played a couple of songs and this kid just went nuts,” he remembers. “He wanted to touch everything, he got out of his chair and started feeling the instruments — his face was full of smiles and laughter, he was loving it.

“Afterwards, the carers told us that he was a person who didn’t usually move, get out of his chair or respond to hardly anything. It was a really touching experience.”

Now on the verge of being Australia’s next huge roots act, the boys are characteristically laid-back and level-headed. “It’s very satisfying,” reflects Mossop, “to be able to say that we came over here and did it all ourselves — that we’re doing what we love and are living off it, and are achieving everything that we wanted to achieve.”

And so, at the foot of their goal, where to from here for BONJAH? “Giving back to what is right — which is what music is all about in the end,” muses Mossop. “It’s about being happy and feeling our emotions and being good to one another. In the long run, I think we all want to be a part of something really important,” he pauses. “The big picture.”
BONJAH’s Favourite Destinations:

James Majernik: “The Whitsunday Islands. Man, I love that place. Sun, beach, quiet — you can’t beat that.”

Regan Lethbridge: “Wanaka, Central Otago, in New Zealand’s South Island. It’s this beautiful spot: lake, mountains, not many people and it’s absolutely beautiful. It’s a great place to go to get away, because it takes you back to the simple things in life. The Bay Islands are also really nice as well.” - Jetstar Magazine

Trying to get back into The Corner’s band room after a quick smoko was akin to trying to fit into a pair of boots three sizes too small. To try and get a drink would be an effort the same size as climbing Everest. Bonjah rose to the challenge, giving the packed audience a stirring performance. Albeit, they could have used a few more drinks: their folky funk set was impeccable, but almost too perfect. There was no buzz, and even lead singer Glenn Mossop’s ‘improvised’ vocal trills sounded over-rehearsed. But to complain about a set being too faultless is pointless – all in all, it was fantastic.

The moment of the set had to be a rousing rendition of The Beatles’ Come Together. Covering the Liverpudlians can be risky, as there is long way to fall if you fail. But Bonjah did a brilliant job. Other set highlights were the audience’s acoustic sing along to Love, Bonjah’s make-do anthem, and of course, the very fly Fly.

Despite Mossop’s strong and unique voice, brownie points were awarded to lead guitarist Regan Lethbridge. He is nothing short of phenomenal. Lethbridge looks so natural, so effortless, so into what he’s doing – yet he’s accessible and entices the audience under his spell. There’s something somewhat reminiscent of Kevin Parker from Tame Impala there – if Tame Impala had a love child with The Beautiful Girls.

Percussionist James Majernik also quietly stole the stage with his ability to play three instruments at once. In front of him lay every primary-school thing you could hit with a stick: tulip tone blocks, cow bells, cymbals, triangles, bongos, even a vibraslap. And playing tambourine in time while battering everything else is a mean feat.

After one and a half hours, everyone was beat. Arm in arm at the front of the stage, Bonjah took a bow as Jackson Jackson started to penetrate the sound system. How lucky are we to have so many good funk-infused bands alive and well in Melbourne today? - Fasterlouder