About Us

Every Monday morning at Wunjo Guitars, a long queue of sales representatives from some of the biggest musical instrument companies in the world trails through the shop and up to the door of Brian's office. They will never get in, because more often than not, Brian is having a jolly chat with one of our many dear customers. A chat about guitars, golf, the plight of Glasgow Rangers Football Club, or anything else that that particular dear customer may wish to muse upon. Wunjo Guitars exists because of this man, and it has become his labour of love. Years of graft have given way to an enduring passion for the things we spend all our days talking about, lusting over, dreaming of, and maybe, just maybe, actually getting to have a play on. And Brian's philosophy has never wavered: if you see it in our shop, then have a play on it! Guitars are there to be played, and it will always be our way here at Wunjos. Once finished putting the world to rights with the customers, maybe offering a couple of sweet deals along the way, Brian breezes out of the shop, affording a casual nod to the winding queue of sales reps, and heads to the golf course to enjoy the spoils of being the founder of the world's coolest guitar shop.

You thought it was Barry Gibb that was keeping the long-hair-and-a-beard look in fashion, but you were wrong. Tom 'Mr Minkley' Hinkley, the man who's hair and beard somehow remain precisely the same length day in day out, is doing his bit for those men who continue to rebel against society and their wives/girlfriends by preserving the look that is befitting of a guitarist/bassist who rues the fact that it isn't the seventies any more. And Tom most certainly is an excellent musician. Having spent a small fortune on mail-order jazz chords over the years, he's got as many excellent recordings, sessions and gigs under his belt as he does days at the helm of our bass shop. With a great eye for stunning vintage bass (see Wunjo Bass's Instagram feed), Tom has also made sure that Wunjo Bass has matured into one of the finest bass guitar shops in the world since its inauguration in 2012. So he's earned the long hair, and indeed, the beard.

Having had a successful career in music, Harry Styles has taken up acting. Laurence, also hailing from the West Midlands, is doing things the other way round. Having set up a band with his actor mates for a laugh, they ended up doing a stint on a well know TV Soap (I think it's called Sevenoaks). But those are now just happy memories. Laurence now frequently tours the UK and Europe playing bass for one or two of the world's finest recording artists. And deservedly so! In those rare quiet moments back in Wunjo Bass (Laurence's 'other gig') you might get a little glimpse of Laurence's chops, all of which, much like his trousers and shirts, are the sharpest and most meticulously pressed in town. Quiet moments in Wunjo Bass are rare, of course, so the rest of the time, Laurence settles in to many a good chat about the wonderful wares we have on show, or reminisces about the time he convinced the gaffer that the singer from Dexy's Midnight Runners wanted to buy a Ro(w)land Cube amp.

The sleepy West Wales town of Aberystwyth has a lot to answer for. It has provided the world with such luminary bands as The Hot Puppies and Murray the Hump, as well as the odd rugby player and film actor here and there. It has also given us Tom Sansbury, or as he has recently become know, 'Little Tommy Sainsburys', who is indeed, as the name suggests, a legend in his own lunchtime, up there with Aberystwyth Jazz Club Alumni's finest. Joking aside, Tom S made the move to London a few years ago, and joined us here at Wunjo to supplement his burgeoning career as a session bass player. Tom has landed some pretty cool gigs since his arrival in the big smoke, opportunities that have taken him around the world plying the trade of banging out killer bass chops. A man who looks dashing in a pair of cycling shorts, perfectly complimenting his flowing ginger rockstar locks: You can take the boy out of.... you know what I mean.

Gus is a law abiding citizen. This is only made possible by the fact that ginger moustaches are not against the law. There was an attempt to make them illegal during the 90s when Mick Hucknall tried to grow one, but unfortunately the Queen was said to be quite a fan, so it never came to pass. If Ed Sheeran tries it, we'll re-petition. As for Gus, the moustache coupled with wavy shoulder length locks and a fringe gives him the look of a man who knows his way round a Shoreditch pub or two, but fortunately for us, he also knows a thing or two about keyboards, synthesizers, organs and all things electro that we use to make that sweet sweet music. In fact, Gus is the captain of HMS Keys, and man who made it all happen, way back in 2013 when Wunjo Keys was just an empty room with bare orange walls. Now you can barely see any orange for the stacks of amazing synths and suchlike. Maybe that's why he kept the ginger tache...

It's not every day that a student of fine art knocks on our door and asks for a job, gets the job, then asks if he can sell us a 70s Fender Mustang to further supplement his living expenses. Ryan is half human half sponge, a young man who seems to know more about music gear than the rest of us put together, knowledge that seems way beyond his young years. Often looking like he's just done an all-nighter at the easel, his choice of shirt (baggy, hawaiian, slightly paint spattered) suggests he probably does know a fair bit about vintage musical instruments (I can confirm he does). However don't be fooled, he can wax lyrical about the latest Bit Compressor pedal or digital amp modelling phone app just as well as he can about a dusty old Hofner. Pretty much anything you want to talk about really, Ryan will have it covered, all in a polite, reserved and bluster-free style that makes him an instant favourite with staff and customers alike.

Have you ever had a scenario? Maybe you have, but: have you ever had a "Schenario"? For Bob, who was sent by the Dutch to write a study called 'how to explain the English', a Schenario is something that happens on a regular basis. Can't decide which immaculately polished cowboy boots to wear to work today? This is a Schenario. Exhaust fallen off the (Immaculately polished) vintage car? Schenario. Forgot to pack the Cuban cigar (probably immaculately polished, wouldn't be surprised) for the after work chill at the Royal George? Major schenario! Fortunately for us, Bob, who is Dutch and himself immaculately polished, deals with all these schenarios without fluster, and focuses his attentions on the desperate schenarios of our dear customers looking for their perfect guitar. A word of warning, however: Bob has a propensity for persuading people to buy Lowdens, being as he is both a fan and an owner of an extremely immaculately polished one. If you came down to the shop on your lunch break for a packet of strings and a capo and you leave three grand lighter, you've probably been talking to Bob. Just so you know.

Every day, Jimmy O arrives at Wunjo Guitars on his bicycle, or on foot with Lucia the dog, ruffles his his shaggy black hair, stands at the door and strikes the very same pose you see in this wonderful portrait. Despite being 10am (the crack of dawn) and still before any coffee has been consumed by any member of Wunjo staff, Jimmy's out-stretched arms and ear-to-ear grin often prompts a couple of choruses of 'the Jimmy O intro song', sung like the football chant: Jimmy is Australian, Jimmy is Australian, la laaaa la la, (Strewth!), la laaaa la la, (Bruce!). Once the whooping and hollering has died down, Jimmy dishes out a customary hug to everyone who's in, and thus we're all set up for another day on Denmark Street. The feel-good factor won't end there of course. Aussie cheeriness is Jimmy O's modus operandi, and anyone who has had the good fortune to come guitar shopping while he's on duty at Wunjo and not away on tour with his band The Graveltones, will know what I'm talking about. Australia, we thank you.

It's the annual Wunjo Christmas bash, and Brandy has spotted the karaoke machine. His eyes have lit up, and he has dashed over toward Jimmy-James and vigorously tapped on his arm. 'Jimmy, Jimmy! Shall we do it? Shall we do it? Let's do Chas n Dave!! Go on, go on!!!' Brandy knows that Jimmy-James has a weak spot for both karaoke and Chas n Dave, and as the clock strikes midnight, the umpteenth chorus of Rabbit is ringing out across the now deserted room. Believe it or not, karaoke is not Brandy's musical raison d'être. In the years since working at Wunjo Guitars alone, he has produced multiple solo recordings with multiple musicians, each of which are fresher and more exciting than the preceding one. He is also Wunjo Guitars' sharpest dresser, hands down, and not without some stiff competition. Brandy is a local lad, and also one of the nicest guys you will ever meet, with enthusiasm for those guitar thingys in abundance. You'll enjoy a chat with Brandy. Just try not to mention karaoke. Or Chas n Dave.

In 1999 when the aliens landed, one of the many experiments they did on the human race for a laugh was to abduct a musical genius and a football supporter to see if they they could swap their brains over. One spaceship landed in the middle of Liverpool on a cold and gloomy November Saturday after Everton had just drawn 0-0 with West Ham, and took a young man with very impressive eyebrows. A musical genius dressed in tweed was found strolling around the Barbican in London, and the Aliens went to work. Once finished, they delivered the two humans safely back to earth, same body and clothes, switched brains, and sat back with bowls of alien popcorn. The musical genius became a listless Manchester United supporter. The young man with impressive eyebrows became Tom McLuckie, musical genius, master of the Saxophone, and aficionado of all things keys, synths and crazy electronic musical gadgets, and Wunjo Keys staff member, always on hand to discuss esoteric musical matters, and football in the blue half of Liverpool. It was in fact the Aliens who created the phrase, 'you can take the boy out of [...]'.

Joe, a.k.a, Little Joe, a.k.a Joseph Harvey-Whyte has been working at Wunjo Guitars (on and off) for as long as anyone, including Brian, can remember. During this time, which for the purposes of this caption we shall quantify as 'many moons', Joe has never had a haircut. Seeing his wonderful flowing locks is very much like looking at the rings of a fallen tree. You can see the softer bits towards the top when he was a young, impressionable, soft-cheeked lad walking the floor on Saturdays; the slightly frazzled bits in the middle when he went to university and learned about philosophy, red wine, and how to charm young ladies; and the curly bits at the ends where he has come of age as not only a member of the Wunjo Hall of Fame, but also an outstanding and rather prolific master of the pedal steel. From Forest Gate to the Royal Albert Hall via Wunjo Guitars (and Nottingham University). Not a bad journey by anyone's standards.

It's one thing to have a stylish, seventies-influenced dress sense (complete with matching mop of luxurious hair), it's another thing to back that up with a healthy dose of good old-fashioned politeness. Working in the middle of London in the midst of glassy offices and achingly cool coffee shops, one can often get the feeling that manners went out of fashion with flared trousers. But when you meet this young man, it will restore your faith in the old way. Meeting George is like going back in time to a point in history that our grandparents have always told us about, when people had time to say thank you to bus drivers, made cups of tea for one another and took the train to the seaside on Sundays. George has time for everyone. Ask him anything and you will receive an answer that is not just well-informed, but also considered and genuine. I'm not sure there is a more polite and patient guitar salesman that exists anywhere in the world.

Marc, who, as you can see, has completed a course on 'how to pose for an effective/moody band photo', does not know how to look uncool. He has tried desperately over the years, wearing his girlfriend's cardigans (nope, that's technically still cool), refusing to shave (now they're all doing it), and even trying to throw in a bit of classic double-denim (would you believe, it's now back in), but all to no avail. In one desperate attempt to shake off this burden of coolness, Marc tried to work less hours at Wunjo and become a DJ in Ibiza, but we weren't having any of it. Now he's back to a regular gig here, just like the old days, spreading his knowledge and friendly vibes across both our electric and acoustic shops. I say the old days, Marc is one of our longest serving members of staff, putting him firmly in the frame for the tag of 'part of the furniture'. He'll probably be here when he starts going grey and wrinkly, sort of like the Keith Richards of music retail. So, is that still...? Yeah, sorry dude, probably still cool.

You may conclude from looking at Howard's portrait, that this is a man who calls a spade a spade. You'd be right. When you are a Nottingham Forest supporter, as Howard unashamedly is, one must learn to resist the temptation to sugar-coat, and this translates perfectly when it comes to talking about buying the perfect guitar: are your gear choices balanced on a knife edge? Do you urgently need an honest, pragmatic opinion on something? Howard's your man! Howard has been around on Denmark Street since Hair Metal was in fashion. Indeed, he did once have a lot more hair than what you see now, and as a teenager he was into Metal for a couple of weeks (shhh!), but, I mean, it's all about the journey. Howard has been dedicated to music - both making his own and helping people choose great gear so as to make theirs - for a good 15 years. Effects pedals are his forte, and if you have even the briefest of glances at our pedal section, you'll see how Wunjo reaps the benefits of his enthusiasm and passion for making weird sounds with guitars and little metal boxes. He's also your go-to if you ever run out of hand cream.

If you've ever spent a pleasant afternoon strolling around an Octopus's Garden chatting with the plankton, then you've probably also had the pleasure of bumping into Nico. I'm sure, simply by the fact that you were there too, that you were wearing something very stylish, maybe with an oversized collar, perhaps contemplating what it might be like if trees were blue and not green, and between the hearty chuckles probably watched as he penned a couple of Cohen-esque songs on a beautiful old guitar whilst the coral polished your winkle pickers. You may have pondered at the excellent tone of the guitar that Nico was playing, and Nico will have responded with a thoughtful comment or two as to how it resembles bird song or smokey woodsheds, such is what you might expect from a cool guitar of a certain age. Likelihood is, Nico would have found one for you too, and after a little jam of a couple of old folk tunes you walked merrily away with it back to your house, feeling full of good spirit. It's what happens when you bump into Nico, either at Wunjo, or in a fictitious psychedelic underwater garden full of coral and plankton. Or both.

Witty banter to follow..

Witty banter coming very soon...

Witty banter coming very soon...

Witty banter coming very soon...