Street busking seems to be one of popular culture’s disappearing formats. With the rising classist society and modern forms of presenting artistic expression, it has become an almost obsolete adventure. However, certain Nigerian bards, like Damilola Bekes, have continued to find immense potential in the open-air format, presenting it as some sort of “social busking”    to showcase their faith-based artistry to communities and people alike.

Within his present habitat in Ireland, Bekes has explored the format, redefining the possibilities of live performances, community showcases and the intensity of such intimate displays. Clutching just his saxophone, a microphone and a smartphone, he has been able to churn out timeless renditions that achieve their function as tools for community outreach and an outlet for intriguing live street performance.

Anyone watching from that particular street corner where Bekes was nestled on that fateful Thursday afternoon, performing the classic What a Friend We Have in Jesus, would have been caught, if by nothing else, by the arresting and powerful crescendo of his saxophone. Bekes sets the theme and tone of the performance with a rather powerful tempo. Before long, the music starts to drift fluidly, having moments where it simmers, especially around the verses, before expanding into heightened, tense passages that give the performance its gusto and groove.

One interesting thing Bekes achieves here, especially considering that it is a street performance, is how well he modifies the composition. He understands the melody he is working with and quite literally plays with it. One could tell that he was having fun and was deeply immersed in his expression.

The tune flows through what can be described as melodic paraphrasing or thematic variation: the original composition remains clearly recognisable, while Bekes reshapes certain phrases, accents and melodic movements to give them another character. The phrasing also carries some traditional African colour, especially through the sharp folk accents that colour his performance.

Another interesting highlight in his display is how he stretches the emotional elasticity of the piece. Bekes uses cadential flourishes and rapid melodic runs at the ends of certain phrases, extending what would ordinarily feel like a final note into brief combustions of melody. They arrive almost like ad-libs on the saxophone. Just when a phrase appears ready to resolve, another four, five, or eight notes tumble out rhythmically from it.

Those flourishes increase the catharsis at play, moving with the rise and fall in cadence and tempo. They also expand the groove of the performance, giving familiar passages a slightly unpredictable quality.

His intentional pauses are equally interesting. Through rubato and occasional agogic emphasis (saxist jargon for slowing and stressing certain notes), Bekes slows into particular notes, holding them momentarily before picking up the melody almost immediately. It becomes a motif throughout his playing. Elsewhere, smaller melodic figures appear in repetitions of twos, threes and fours, sometimes functioning like short sequences within the larger composition.

These moments extend the shock value and recall value of the rendition. One remembers what the hymn initially sounded like, yet comes away feeling like the composition has been experienced more wholesomely. Bekes’s convincing and emotive display makes it an easily digestible performance, with enough tonal clarity, resonance and melodic imagination to keep the familiar hymn alive. Overall, the performance earns a 7/10.

It also makes a case for street busking itself. Across Africa, Europe, and elsewhere, open-air art expressions deserve more room within contemporary music culture. There is still something powerful about encountering music outside the restrictions of a stage or formal venue, where a saxophone on an ordinary street corner can suddenly make an entire community its audience.