The road for buskers in Hong Kong to pursue their music dreams has been fraught with conflict. But in recent years, the city is taking steps to shake things up
Hong Kong singer-songwriter Moon Tang is living the dream. Now 24, the rising star has had several solo concerts, and has more than 60K followers on Instagram, 1.8 million listeners on Spotify and a contract with Warner Music Hong Kong. This wasn’t what Tang pictured when she started out with a simple musical dream at 15. “I met friends from other schools, with whom I formed a squad to busk. We just wanted to sing and be heard because there was no opportunity at school to showcase our songs beyond the campus.”
The “squad” busked after school, during weekends and on holidays. Earning HK$1,000 per day was a nice reward for the then secondary school student, but Tang feels what she gained most from busking can’t be measured in monetary terms. “I was a very shy person. Busking helped me bring myself out there,” she says. “It was a nice feeling when strangers stopped by and circled around us to watch our performances.”
Busking is one of singer-songwriter Alfred Wu Hok-hin’s favourite hobbies and a good side business. The 28-year-old has been doing it since 2013, earning a few thousand dollars a day, and indulging in his love of interacting with an audience. “Busking doesn’t have as many limitations in terms of song choices and performance schedules as a paid gig. You can do it any time with your friends,” he says, adding that busking is more about the connection between performers and the audience. “When compared to a paid gig in a bar or restaurant where there’s already an audience to start with, buskers have to attract an audience from zero. The audience who stay to watch are purely there for your performance.”

Above Zelos Wong at his EP launch party (Photo: courtesy of Zelos Wong)
Independent singer-songwriter Zelos Wong, who released his debut EP EmergenZy last month, says busking gave him a good grounding in how to perform well. “It definitely helped me engage with the audience [because it’s] such a close environment. ... Recently, I’ve been doing some [intimate performances] and it reminds me of busking: you can look right into [the audience’s] eyes and they will have a reaction to you.” It was also an opportunity to introduce some of his original music to the public.
Hong Kong doesn’t lack musicians and singers who have a busking background. Pop icons MC Cheung Tinfu, Hung Kaho, and Winka Chan of the local girl group Collar all spent years busking along the Avenue of Stars in Tsim Sha Tsui or the busy pedestrian zone of Mong Kok before they rose to stardom and got signed by labels.
In Hong Kong, street performers—members of the public who sing, dance, play musical instruments, act or practise other forms of artistic and entertaining activities in public spaces—are entitled to “the freedom to engage in academic research, literary and artistic creation, and other cultural activities” under Article 34 of the Basic Law.
But that doesn’t guarantee smooth sailing. Quite the contrary: local buskers have for a long time been in conflict with other members of the public or fallen into legal grey areas. “I can already find busking in conflict with a number of other ordinances, such as the Noise Control Ordinance and the Summary Offences Ordinance,” says Phoebus Chan, the chairman of the Mainland Hong Kong Macau Arts and Culture Youth Alliance. A busker himself in Hong Kong back in 1994, Chan has since been a professional pianist and violinist, and is now studying public administration and Hong Kong’s busking situation as a postgraduate student at Tsinghua University in Beijing. Under these ordinances, street performers playing musical instruments and using loudspeakers and megaphones in a public space may cause an offence related to noise, nuisance and obstruction. There is also the Pleasure Grounds Regulation, which states that “no person is allowed to make sounds by musical instrument or singing to the annoyance of other users in any pleasure ground (including parks) unless with permission of the relevant authority”.
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Above Phoebus Chan (Photo: courtesy of Phoebus Chan)
The Leisure and Cultural Services Department (LCSD) in 2010 set up the Open Stage scheme, which allows auditioned and qualified performers to book the outdoor space at Sha Tin Town Hall to perform, with the aim of providing space for public performances. Buskers can also apply for the Playing Musical Instrument Permit in Public Street or Road issued by the police, or the Temporary Places of Public Entertainment Licence from the Food and Environmental Hygiene Department.
“But the permits are not that easy to apply for; you have to fulfil a lot of requirements. The Public Entertainment Licence takes 14 working days to [process] and it costs [HK$2,680 to grant and HK$2,420 to renew], so you would not apply for the licence just to do one busking performance,” Chan says. “That’s why not many people apply for these.”
According to a government press release issued on July 12, the police received 242 applications for the Playing Musical Instrument Permit in Public Street or Road this year up to July 6: 137 permits were granted; 91 applications were withdrawn by the applicants; the remaining 14 applications were being processed in July. Even among those who have successfully applied for a permit, some have been dissuaded from performing by law enforcement officers who receive complaints about them during their performances, according to Legislative Council member Kenneth Leung, to whom these buskers reached out, in the aforementioned press release.
The more aggressive cases in the past involved residents throwing corrosive liquids and bottles from their buildings and injuring both performers and passers-by in Mong Kok’s pedestrianised zone at Sai Yeung Choi Street South, a regular spot for buskers due to the high foot traffic. “That’s when the government decided to shut down that street to buskers forever [in 2018],” Chan says. To further complicate the situation, he adds that the area used to “involve a lot of Triads who ‘help’ buskers ‘reserve’ their spot because the fight for space was too keen. It was messy.”
Now a full-time singer-songwriter, Tang busks far less frequently, but mainly because she’s tired of how “people compete to be louder and not better”. Wong shares a similar view: “You don’t want to be too close to the others because it’ll be a volume competition. If you have a better amplifier, you’ll win.”

Above Moon Tang (middle) busking with her friends in Causeway Bay (Photo: courtesy of Warner Music Hong Kong)

Above Alfred Wu busking at West Kowloon (Photo: courtesy of West Kowloon Cultural District Authority)
Outside the musical community, it’s taking time for the local impression of busking to improve. Busking experienced a resurgence in Hong Kong in the early 2000s, when returnees from the British emigration wave or overseas studies of the 1990s brought the busking culture from the west to Hong Kong. Of the many factors that get in buskers’ way, Chan attributes the public’s lukewarm attitude to how “in Chinese culture, we don’t perceive busking as a respectable job. It’s considered a cheap and low-end job.”
“I’ll be very honest: most Hong Kong people don’t see buskers as professional musicians; their logic is that if the buskers were good enough, they would already have signed with labels,” adds Rosanne Lo, who performs as Rosemances with her friend Mance Leung. “The chance of being discovered is slim as labels aren’t actively scouting,” says Lo. The greatest benefit to the singer has been the way busking has enabled her to meet people from different industries who talk to her and occasionally invite her to perform in F&B venues. This is added to the fact that it’s more affordable to buy a karaoke machine to sing in public than singing in recital halls, which typically charge performers several hundred dollars per song.
Tatler reached out to the LCSD, Culture, Sports and Tourism Bureau (CSTB), and the Hong Kong Arts Development Council (ADC) at the time of writing to enquire about policies on busking and the support they provide to buskers. The LCSD and ADC claim they do not currently perceive street performance as part of their purview; CSTB and LCSD directed Tatler to the aforementioned press release.
But there may be hope for the future of Hong Kong buskers, albeit hope that’s growing slowly. In recent years, both commercial and cultural units have been giving performers a stage and support. Shopping complex Lee Gardens organised the Gleeful Music Busking programme that featured a fortnightly line-up of buskers from May to August this year; the MTR Corporation launched a Living Art Stage initiative, in which it sets aside a corner at Hong Kong Station for street performers and other acts every Friday.

Above Rosemances performing at Hysan's Gleeful Music Busking programme (Photo: courtesy of Rosemances)

Above Musicians performing at West Kowloon's waterfront promenade (Photo: courtesy of West Kowloon Cultural District Authority)
Since 2020, the government has constructed six Harbourfront Shared Spaces—Belcher Bay Promenade in Kennedy Town, HarbourChill in Wan Chai, the Water Sports and Recreation Precinct in Wan Chai, the Revitalised Typhoon Shelter Precinct in Causeway Bay, East Coast Park Precinct in Fortress Hill and Tsuen Wan Promenade—where visitors can deliver street performances without applying for permits as long as they comply with the law. Central Market also issues performance passes that allow interested street musicians and dancers to perform in its entrance and atrium spaces. In June, West Kowloon resumed the Street Performance Scheme, under which successful permit applicants can perform in designated areas at designated times. At the time Tatler went to print in November, West Kowloon had accepted 30 musicians, circus groups and freestyle footballers.
Paul Tam, the head of performing arts at West Kowloon, says its commercial partners, including F&B venues and shops, with whom he has been in discussions about the busking initiative, have a favourable perception of busking performances because they attract visitors and business. “Busking is an integral part of artistic life and adds vibrancy to the district. It has always been part of our artistic strategy since the beginning,” he says. “It is the most accessible and liberal way to share your arts with the public.” He believes that busking helps inject art into urban life when, for instance, West Kowloon visitors who aren’t interested in museums and theatres have the option to enjoy a casual performance during family picnics. With Night Vibes Hong Kong, a government initiative to boost the city’s night-time economy, he feels that it is a great time to push the local busking culture.
Busking is also crucial for cultivating the next generation of musicians, according to Tam. “When we look at the whole ecology of performing arts, there’s always need for a rite of passage for emerging talents to gain experience and competence.” Busking, he says, can provide budding artists with exposure and practice opportunities.

Above Paul Tam (Photo: courtesy of West Kowloon Cultural District Authority)
This year, the Housing Authority has also approached Chan about launching a five-year experimental scheme to turn some of the transitional housing areas into busking grounds. Chan says, “Buskers need locations to perform in. Right now, if you go to that plaza between the Cultural Centre and the Star Ferry Pier, there are signs that say ‘No busking allowed’.” He says that buskers can provide entertainment for the neighbourhood and teach music to low-income residents, who would otherwise not be able to afford music classes; in return, the buskers get a performing venue and some revenue from the authority. “In this way, buskers aren’t only performing—they’re also doing good for the community.”
From the perspective of a busker, Wu thinks the most useful step would be for the government to legalise busking, as well as create appropriate sound and space regulations to balance the interests of residents and buskers. Chan adds that a unified licensing system should be set up by the government and handled by a panel of arts professionals, so that there will be a benchmark to ensure that space and subsidy, if any, can be given to performers who are truly contributing to Hong Kong’s arts and culture scene, and not “karaoke singers dressing sexily”.
Tam, who was a performing artist long ago, before taking up arts administration positions, hopes to see the whole city coming together to provide the platform for buskers. He says that musicians Ed Sheeran and Tracy Chapman, and actors Robin Williams and Pierce Brosnan all had their first taste of and “training” in public performances through busking before hitting the big time. “In Hong Kong, there are so many young artists coming up every year,” he says. “My yardstick of success is seeing them having their first break.”





