A connection with people on an emotional level. Trying to offer them a means of understanding the world as th

second goes back to his days as a punk-folk poet playing songs from his first three albums Life’s a Riot, Brewing Up with Billy Bragg and Talking with the Taxman About Poetry. The final night he refers to as his “reflective” set, where he plays songs from his second three records, the break-up album Workers Playtime, his pop record Don’t Try This at Home and William Bloke, his album about parenthood.

“The shows in Wellington will be the first time I’ve done this in a long time,” he says, before admitting with a grin, “I’ve got to get my head back around it.”

Bragg has an enviable songbook, and Wellingtonians are in for a treat to see him digging into those early albums. Looking back he says it was the 50/50 split in his songs between hard-edge politics and heartfelt love songs that attracted him an audience.

“That mixture hadn’t been explored for a while. It had been done before, but what was different about me – and I know it sounds daft now – but at the time nobody had done the solo singer/songwriter thing with an electric guitar,” he says. “No-one had been able to deliver that punch without a band whilst at the same time being vulnerable alone on stage.”

Rather than feeling exposed, Bragg says he found a power in the solitude. It made for a compelling image. Just him, his convictions and what he amusingly calls the “chop and clang” of his guitar.

“If I’d come on with a band it wouldn’t have come over in the same way,” he says. “It wouldn’t have had the same emotional heft as seeing me up there on my own saying, ‘here’s my personal feelings’. I’ve felt for a long time that the currency of music is empathy. It’s about trying to make a connection with people on an emotional level. Trying to offer them a means of understanding the world as they find it.”

As an example, he cites the song I Keep

“I’ve felt for a long time that the currency of music is empathy. It’s about trying to make