“In the spirit of being free, there is nothing in this world as beautiful as she,” the bearded guitarist clad in a red and blue plaid button down and blue jeans crooned. As his smooth voice rippled throughout the bustling Covent Garden market, onlookers seemed mesmerized by his presence. If the musician and I had merely passed each other while walking on the street, I doubt I would have taken a second look. As harsh as it sounds, his simple, physical demeanor can be described as forgettable. However, when it comes to his music, my reaction could not be more different. Armed with only an acoustic guitar, the memories that inspired his music and the voice that commemorates them, I found myself unable to continue on my way without sitting on a bench in the market’s square and listening to him until the end of his 20-minute set.

After he finished singing the song that initially caught my attention, titled, “A Woman’s Heart,” the musician introduced himself as Rob Falsini. Having already assumed that he wasn’t a native Londoner from the accent that peeked through his singing, my inclinations were confirmed as he revealed that he is a singer/songwriter from the Netherlands.

As Falsini went on to play a hauntingly beautiful cover of Damien Rice’s “The Blower’s Daughter” (a personal favorite), I momentarily snapped out of my daze and noticed a young couple who had also sat down to listen to his set. As I looked closer, I realized that the woman was consoling the man, who had begun to cry. As weird as it sounds, I have a tendency to imagine scenarios while people watching. In this case, I assumed that Falsini’s music had struck a cord with something that the man was going through at the time, inciting an overflow of emotion. While one may pity him, I find the whole situation uplifting. Nowadays, it’s rare for music to make you really feel as deeply as that man was at that moment. This is why I tightly hold on to music, like Falsini’s, that does.