9.56pm, Wellington, NZ. A tiny vintage bookshop, down an ominous alleyway, opens its doors to patrons passing by. In waltz a string of individuals, some quiet and casual whilst the others in suit and tie, hair slicked back and dressed to the nines. In one hand they carry an instrument, the other, a six pack of beers. They invite everyone to come closer, dare they not be aloof. They begin to play, and the audience begin to smile. They’re not very good and the instruments are out of tune, but the incentive behind it is what makes it worth while. See they gather here every Thursday, after working 9-5, to encourage people to keep the bookshop afloat, by donating a couple of dollars or purchasing a novel. They take time out of their day to make this happen, gaining nothing but the gratitude that comes alongside keeping a tradition alive.