‘They call me Frank Fairfield’ the California-based fiddle, guitar and banjo player announces to a packed crowd at the Albert, who are eagerly anticipating an hour or so of floor hammerin’, foot stamping Americana roots to erupt out of his set. Fairfield’s preparations are meticulous as he readies his violin, whilst embracing the informality of the intimate setting, welcoming chats with the audience members closest to the small stage. So far, so civil – time to see if he really is the genuine article.

Sleeves rolled up and hair greased back, Fairfield gives an impression of a young, affable and talented musician with an air of self-confidence. He chuckles to himself as he grapples with tuning and retuning, keeping tempo with the quicker-paced ditties.

True enough, it’s not long before you realise why this emerging star has got everyone’s attention. It’s because you can feel he has lived and breathed, at least in his lifetime, the sentiments of these bluesy and gruffly heartfelt songs. Referring to analogies of life and relationships as a train journey, the crowd is calm and intensely listening to Fairfield’s distant pearls of wisdom.

The boy done good, and we were left wanting to see more of what he can do.

Frank Fairfield
Saturday 4th September
The Prince Albert

WORDS BY ANDREW WILSON