It’s already two weeks into December and I have been slack on the blogging front. To catch up slightly, a little spiel about Frank Fairfield, a young multi instrumental musician from Los Angeles.
Frank was playing at the Basement Discs on Friday last, and delivered a pleasant mini concert, showcasing his astonishing skills on banjo, fiddle and guitar, as well singing a selection of the songs he loves from yesteryear. He looked the real deal, dressed conservatively in button up shirt and exhibited a modest demeanour.
He sounds like someone out of the backwoods, but he is Californian by upbringing and has a love for music forgotten in time. For instance, the tragic tale of Poor Ben, where a child is sent out at various hours of the night to fetch his father from the pub, whilst his brother Ben is dying at home.
Here’s a video of him performing Rye Whiskey, another of the songs he sang last Friday. It has wonderful lyrics.
3 comments:
Where's the cats yo
I've come over to wish you a wonderful Christmas, Anne - and all my best wishes for 2012.
Thanks Clare! Reciprocal greetings to you. Hope yours is enjoyable in the cold, whilst ours is likely to be hot and muggy.
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