August (Will): The Power of Owning Your Niche

Notes from a 25-year career as a full-time harmonica player - how going all-in on a rare instrument helped me find my voice.

"Yeah, I'm a Professional Harmonica Player..."

People always look surprised when I say that.

 Like, “Wait, that’s a thing?”

And yeah—it is. I’m a full-time professional harmonica player. I know, it’s not exactly a common career path. In fact, most people - even other professional musicians - have never met anyone who does this for a living.

The harmonica is often seen as a toy - you probably even played one yourself as a child. Once a common fixture in households—especially in the aftermath of the World Wars—it was cheap, portable, and mass-produced by the likes of Hohner. Everyone seemed to own one, even if few played it beyond a few honks and warbles. Fast forward to today, and it's one of the most niche instrumental careers out there. Which begs the question: what does it mean to go all in on something so few people take seriously?

No Map to Follow

Unlike classical violinists who follow a long lineage of training and tradition, harmonica players rarely have such a path laid out. There wasn’t a real formal tradition to lean on - no Suzuki method, no conservatoires teaching it seriously. I had to build my own education.

At music college, I studied under an accordionist. Not a harmonica teacher—because there wasn't one. Beyond that, growth came through listening, experimenting, failing, and trying again.

There was one Brendan Power harmonica album I listened to relentlessly. I thought it was amazing—but then I stopped listening to it for ten years. I didn’t want to copy. I wanted to develop my own sound. That personal sound, that relentless pursuit of individuality, became the cornerstone of my career.

The Magpie Approach to Musical Innovation

Without a curriculum to follow, I adopted what a “magpie approach” to learning—picking up ideas from other instruments and genres and reshaping them for harmonica. I attempted the jaw harp (and failed at it), but in the process discovered a new harmonica sound I still use in performances today. I mimic fiddle techniques, explore bluegrass licks, and draw inspiration from everything from Irish Trad to experimental jazz.

This approach isn’t just about novelty—it’s about respect for the instrument and a desire to push its limits. The harmonica can sound like a toy, but only if you let it.

Being Proactive in a Passive Industry

Hardly anybody ever says, “Hey, we need a harmonica player for this gig.” You have to make that space. You have to be proactive. I don’t wait for the phone to ring. I start projects. I send emails. I reach out to collaborators. I pitch ideas. I remind people that I exist.

To survive, I’ve had to create opportunities: initiating duo projects, developing entire concert series, emailing producers, and forging collaborations. I wouldn't say that my career isn't a string of lucky breaks—it’s the result of persistent artistic initiative.

Even today, I cold-email recording studios just to stay on the radar. I chatted to the head of Audio Network recently, and now I’m on their list. But that only happened because I reached out.

Creating Value in the Irreplicable

One of the great assets of playing a niche instrument—and doing it in your own way—is that it becomes impossible to copy. I charge more for my work because it's niche, yes. But also because it's me. Twenty-five years of building a specific sound. If you want that sound, you come to me.

The more unique your voice, the more valuable it is.

But it’s not about ego. It's about artistic integrity. To me, the harmonica is just a tool. I’m a musician first. It just happens to be the instrument that allows me to say what I need to say.

Owning the Edge

Being a harmonica player in the modern music scene is about more than reviving an old instrument. It’s about reimagining its role entirely. If you find yourself on the fringe—of art, of business, of culture—you can either try to fit in, or you can go deeper into what makes you different.

In this case, a so-called toy instrument has become my lifelong pursuit, a vehicle for originality, and a career built not on what was available—but what was possible.

I’m a professional harmonica player.

 Weird job, maybe.

 But it’s mine!