Edward Larry Gordon wasn’t the only broke musician in New York City in 1974 who found himself at a pawn shop, hocking his guitar to pay rent. But who else followed a flash of divine inspiration and instead walked out carrying an obscure type of zither? It would prove a sliding doors moment that decided the course of Gordon’s life.
“This inner guidance within me – this beautiful, clear, loving guidance – said, ‘Don’t take the money, swap the guitar for the autoharp in the window’,” says Gordon from his apartment in Harlem. Now almost 80, he prefers to be called by his stage name, Laraaji. “I decided to follow that rabbit hole upward and left with the autoharp and five dollars – I did some bargaining,” he grins. “One thing led to another and soon I was playing it on the sidewalks of Brooklyn.”
