TRIBUTES have been paid to High Wycombe busker Gordon ‘Carrot’ Lumsden who has died aged 44.

Mr Lumsden was found dead at his Chairborough Road, High Wycombe flat on Wednesday. No cause of death has been given.

More than 8,600 people had by yesterday joined a memorial group on social networking website Facebook (see link, bottom of story).

And a makeshift memorial was established outside Lloyds bank in White Hart Street, where he used to play harmonica.

His mother, Theresa, of Underwood Road, Totteridge said she was overwhelmed by the ‘amazing’ tributes for the former St Augustine’s and St Bernard's school pupil.

She said: “He was always a bit of a rebel but not in a bad way.

“He was very charming, he had all the charm in our family, would talk to people and had a fantastic sense of humour and always loved music.

“He could charm the birds off the trees and everyone liked him.”

Mr Lumsden moved to London aged 20 and busked in Camden, Brixton and the underground. He lived in Brighton for a time.

Mrs Lumsden said: “He said he was going to work – that was busking – that was what he called his job.”

He moved back to High Wycombe five years ago.

Mrs Lumsden said the family tried to help him fight an addiction to alcohol three years ago.

She said blues-music fanatic, who was single, had strong political views.

He was arrested at a 1984 peace march and also joined a march with friends and family of Slough man Habib Ullah, who died after a 2008 police drugs search in the town.

She said: “If there were issues he felt strongly about he was prepared to stand up and speak about them and make his point.

“He had some strong beliefs and people would look at him in the late years and think he didn't believe in much, playing the mouth organ and busking for money.

“But they didn't know the whole boy.”

Mr Lumsden had two brothers, Kenny and Adam and a sister, and was an uncle and great uncle.

Adam, 41, the youngest of the four, said his “nomadic” sibling was a “free spirit” and a talented musician.

The Abercrombie Avenue, High Wycombe resident said: “He's going to be missed, as a character around the town.”

Editors note - We have suspended comments on this story due to user complaints regarding the content of some comments.

Below is a selection of the tributes paid to Carrot from our readers.

Old Rebel, High Wycombe said: “How sad. I often used to hurry through town and hear Carrot playing and saying to myself I must stand and listen sometime.

"Now its too late. How many times in our lives have we said that. Lets try and find the time in 2010 to stop and 'smell the roses.'

"My thoughts and prayers are with his family and friends at this difficult time.”

listerps2, Marlow said: "RIP Gordon - I will miss our little chats at the cash point and your creative songs."

john_b, High Wycombe said: "RIP. Good harmonica playing. You will not be forgotten."

DarrenHayday, High Wycombe said: "Carrot was a good man, who never harmed anyone other than himself.

"He was a damn good musician and had a very good sense of humour."

Hedgecock, High Wycombe said: "R.I.P Carrot. I would rather see a drunk man playing and living as a blues man than a drunken bum scratching for coins.

“He was and will always be an inspiration to myself and many others. The simple fact He has touched so many is a fact to not be ignored.

“Lets take time to think of those less fortunate who struggle to gain a level of respect in this stuck up draconian ethos, and try to understand the difficulties of addiction and dependency.

“Blessing an love to the family. His spirit will live on and his nature never forgotten xxx"

yog said: "Farewell to a Wycombe legend."

ImpeturbableLawrence said: "Dr John Donne wrote in the 1620's:

"'No man is an island, Entire of itself. Each is a piece of the continent, A part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less. As well as if a promontory were. As well as if a manor of thine own Or of thine friend's were. Each man's death diminishes me, For I am involved in mankind. Therefore, send not to know For whom the bell tolls, It tolls for thee'."

JT1990 said: "RIP Carrot, will miss having a fag and a chat with you. A nice man with a great talent."

Hawkmind said: "Remember Carrot from years ago, busking on guitar at Tottenham Court Road station. He certainly entertained the commuters in the rush hour! he was a nice bloke. RIP."

Elmo said: "Can't say it was a life cut short, given the style in which he lived, but it was a life that touched so many others. More than he would ever know. R.I.P. Carrot."

THaddow said: "Knowing him as long as I did, his cheerful character never changed, and always had a smiling face when we passed the time of day.

"Always loved music, sad that he's not around. Condolences to Theresa and Family."

Meanwhile, reader Emar wrote a poem entitled 'My Poem For a Well-Known Wycombe Man'.

He was a familiar sight in Wycombe

A man with carrot-colour hair

And a crimson red complexion

Torn clothes that most wouldn't wear

Nearly always in his favourite place

On the pavement by a shop wall

Sitting on a worn-out coat

Answering those who'd wave or call

But a name it seemed he never had

And probably no address to give

But he always played the harmonica

For some coins passers-by might give

I often wondered what had caused this man

To live the life he did

What and when was the turning point

And did it stem from when he was a kid?

What was his background

Had he once had family and friends

Had he gone to school, and learnt

That happiness sometimes ends?

Why did he need to find an escape

And block out all he had known

Then let himself down, become down and out

Were his hopes and dreams painfully blown?

And over these past years in town

Busking to buy a drink

A can of cheap lager, a beer

To give him oblivion, a chance not to think

But now the place where this man sat

Is replaced with candles and flowers

And people who knew him, but didn't

Stood by and thought of his plight, not ours

Maybe the cold was too much to beat

Maybe the snow took him away

Maybe he had nothing to eat

But, somehow I missed him, finding he was't there today.

RIP.