Chalu Banarsee doesn’t tell his story in a straight line. He starts in Guyana — singing in church as a kid — and then you’re in Brooklyn, then on tour, then deep in the streets of San Francisco. Then he circles back. Faith, music, survival, loss, all layered together. But one thing comes through clearly: he’s still here. And there were moments when that wasn’t guaranteed. “I’ve been cut, stabbed, punched, beat, poisoned,” he says. “I’ve died seven times.”