Real World Records

Charlie Winston

• from United Kingdom

"I started playing these chords on my guitar and I knew I had something," recollects Charlie Winston of the week in August 2004 when he composed his song 'Like A Hobo', "Then I took an evening to myself with a bottle of wine to write the chorus. As I played it through I felt strongly this idea of wide open spaces, of a man travelling alone, embracing solitude."

The song was potent, everyone Charlie played it to was touched by its Ennio Morricone-gone-folk buzz and heartfelt zen-outsider lyrics. So much so that he'd run into acquaintances and they'd ask, "How's it going with the hobo life then, Charlie?" He laughs at the memory, "I'd think to myself, 'I'm not really a hobo, I'm still living in an apartment in Stoke Newington doing tiny gigs round London'."

However, the song and people's response took on a life of its own. It inspired Charlie to ring everyone in his address book, asking if they knew places he could gig. He said he'd play anywhere, however far and however small and he did, often performing to less than ten people, building a word-of-mouth audience. In Summer 2006 he travelled for months around France, Italy and Spain, calling the adventure 'Going Hobo' and keeping a detailed account online, replete with soundbites and video. People started to pay attention.

"The song became a mantra for me," he admits, "and that's why I never grow bored of singing it." And he must have sung it thousands of times since those days for slowly but surely it became a European hit, notably in France where it reached the No.1 spot. Yet as he's the first to tell you, Charlie Winston is no freight-hopping busker…

Just a couple of years ago Charlie was composing and performing for Theatre Rites Productions and choreographer Arthur Pita on the successful family show 'Mischief', a piece commissioned by Sadler's Wells. Onstage in a typically natty bespoke '40s suit he played piano and guitar, beatboxed and sang for over an hour, accompanying a dizzying array of dancers, clowns and puppeteers. It was the culmination of years involved with theatre and received rave reviews.

"Theatre can be central," says Charlie, "I love Tom Waits and the album that initially hooked me and drew me into his world was 'Black Rider' which came from one of his theatrical side projects."

Charlie's involvement goes back to his days at Brunel University when he'd compose pieces for productions at the nearby Marie Rambert Ballet School. A few years later, when he arrived back from a sojourn in India, he was approached by Ben Harrison, artistic director of Scottish theatre company Grid Iron, to work on 'Into Our Dreams', a commission for the Almeida theatre. It took place in Shoreditch Town Hall and every night Charlie would lie on the steps outside the building greeting guests as if he were a homeless person, only to burst in playing a drum when the show began. It turned out to be the first of three Almeida productions he worked on with Harrison. He became known as a reliable hand, composing to deadline and performing if necessary, thus it became his dayjob, working on everything from 'Merlin The Magnificent' for the Unicorn Theatre to arrangements for the London Sinfonietta and BBC Concert Orchestra.

All along, though, Charlie was keen to take his own music forward. After the triumph of 'Mischief' the time finally came to do so…

Charlie Winston's life was marinated in music from the start. His parents, Geoff and Julie Gleave, were folk musicians. Swept up in the heady excitement of the '60s, they fell in love and formed a duo, once even appearing on long gone TV talent show 'Opportunity Knocks' (they came second). In the 1970s they settled down to run the Kings Head Hotel in Bungay, Suffolk. More than just a hotel, though, it was the local arts hub with a bar, ballroom, restaurant and coffee shop. It played host, both as venue and accommodation, to all sorts - musicians, theatre companies, circuses, a Can Can dance troupe, the Classic Car Club, Freemasons conventions, Jehovah's Witness gatherings, even comedians - such as the late Malcolm Hardee who would, as he always did, remove his clothes after a few drinks. It was a bizarre Bohemian environment for Charlie and his three siblings to grow up in, made all the more so by the eccentricities of his parents.

"You know 'Fawlty Towers'," says Charlie, "that was my childhood - no joke - that's how crazy it could be."

As well as fantastical, though, it could be lonely. Charlie and his sister, for instance, were regularly banished to the stairs to eat meals because the hotel manager disapproved of children in what was essentially their own kitchen. Fortunately Charlie always had music. Playing drums and piano, he was composing songs by the age of 12 and still rates one of his earliest, written about his ill grandma. With his school band, Body Clock, he attempted a fusion of acid jazz and grunge with results he grimacingly refers to as "quite tragic" (although he's still proud of arranging for a horn section aged 15). More relevantly, he fell in love with hip hop, something that can still be heard in his beatboxing on new album 'Hobo', and seen in outbursts of onstage body-popping moves at his shows.

At 17 he left home and went to Brunel University to do a music foundation course. He spent two years in lodgings as a hermit obsessing over jazz and minimalist music, "practicing all day every day to be the greatest jazz pianist in the world". By the end, though, he'd had enough of formalism, of "too many people trying to see how many notes you could fit in a bar," and he moved in with his older brother, Tom Baxter. They lived in Clapham, sharing a bed, scraping by on the pittance they could raise playing gigs with their band, Baxter. Charlie played bass but eventually felt that he needed to explore his own creativity, thus he disappeared to India determined to learn the tabla. He returned a month later and rather than Indian raga music he slowly infiltrated the world of theatre. Meanwhile his brother's career was starting to fly…

Tom Baxter signed to Sony and Charlie agreed to play on his first album and accompanying tours. It turned out to be a great experience. Recording the album at Real World Studios he met owner Peter Gabriel and became friendly with his daughter Mel. Then, just as things were revving up, Tom's career temporarily stalled due to management changes when Sony merged with BMG. Charlie decided that when his own time came he'd do things differently, avoiding such industry machinations.

A year or two later, Charlie was babysitting for Gabriel one evening and dropped off an EP of material. The result was a Real World recording contract then an album 'Make Way'. Never given a full release Charlie nonetheless performed it daily at dawn on London's bridges with a brass section, just for kicks ("All these suits walking along with miserable faces suddenly smiling a little") and then used his newfound publishing money to begin his hobo adventures, funding the notion he could build a career by utilizing community rather than ego-driven ambition.

It seemed he could. Another boost came when he voiced the Spencer Davis Group's hit 'I'm A Man' on a Volkswagen TV ad, as sung by an excitable Jack Russell. The ad was hugely popular but was eventually pulled after the RSPCA kicked up a fuss because the dog was shivering ("Jack Russell's are renowned for shaking when they're happy," snorts Charlie). The final piece of the jigsaw fell into place in 2006 in Paris when, on his ongoing hobo mission, Charlie ran into Medi, a French singer-songwriter acquaintance. They played a spontaneous celebratory jam after France won a match in the World Cup. The audience went mental for 'Like A Hobo' and the pair agreed to set up gigs for each other in England and France. Shortly afterwards Charlie's band fell apart. Drummer Jamie Morrison, who appears on 'Hobo', was dragged away when his other group, The Noisettes, started to make it. Medi suggested he step in as sticksman with his friend Daniel Marsala on bass. Charlie's old Brunel friend and longstanding sidesman Ben Edwards stayed on from the old band playing harmonica, and everything just clicked.

French label Atmospheriques became very interested but rather than putting out Charlie's unreleased album, they put together a new one, 'Hobo', in London, Paris and New York with David Bowie producer Mark Plati at the desk. On it everything came together, Charlie distilled his music to its raw essence, a hearty modern gumbo of blues-folk, straight-talking lyricism, and soul, all laced with beatboxing and quirky instrumentation. From the anthemic 'Like a Hobo' to the existential campfire pop of 'Kick The Bucket', from 'Generation Spent''s passionately strummed critique of contemporary culture (or lack of it) to the whimsically melancholy 'My Life As A Duck', the album playfully resists easy genre categorization yet maintains a spirited, contagious rootsiness that took off in France in a big way, eventually topping the charts.

Now Charlie's started receiving plaudits in the UK, playing to rapturous audiences, touted by the press and appearing on GMTV. Meanwhile his ideas about community continue to fuel his vision. His new website is a centre for all involved in his creative life, each represented by books on a shelf containing Charlie's personal introductions to their work.

"I'm not interested in wealth or people knowing my name," he states passionately, "I'm interested in being involved in the Great Conversation of life."

From some, this would sound pretentious but with his rigorous yet casual musical suss, gentle honesty of purpose, lively brown eyes and sharp, offbeat jazznik dress sense, Charlie Winston gets away with it. In fact, it's refreshing to hear intelligent chat rather than tired media-trained baloney. He's a rare star in the making whose intellectual curiosity and creative drive far outweigh his personal ambition.