The Fringe is not a showcase of talents. Rather it is like a vast artistic stock-exchange in which those who shout the loudest are noticed, and a very small number of lucky investors make their fortune.

For an artist like Frank Burkitt, without naked women or juggling racist dwarves to garner attention you can’t help but want to scream at people in the street to come and listen. Yet Burkitt doesn’t shout, and even on stage he has that quality of profound modesty lacking in so many. This is just a part of what made his Saturday night opener at Sweet ECA so refreshing, in spite of a (relatively) lean audience.

Most Garden Sessions fans, or even casual listeners, will be familiar with Frank’s song writing, but to see the man play live is to see a performer completely at one with his material. With an elf-like grace he sways behind the microphone inviting, but not cajoling, the audience into the bittersweet line between fulfillment and sadness that his music inhabits.

With Kara Filibey’s harmonies and Chris Stone’s frenetic fiddle virtuosity on either side Frank has found an ideal trio to realise his often challenging songs. Chris’s remarkable technique and sensitivity provide the ideal counterpoint to the singer’s guitar and vocal. The result are two at once subtle and dynamic lead voices on stage, with both fiddle and voice demonstrating a startlingly varied musical ability. Stone’s ability to quote from a myriad of styles, while adding to, not dominating the songs, is a feat worthy of only the most consummate of musicians.

To draw a comparison in the time honored fashion with Frank Burkitt’s music and others is a slightly pointless exercise. Even the bracket “singer songwriter” is a little to riddled with self-indulgence to apply. He had the sadness of Nick Drake, the dapper delivery of Sinatra, and a clutch of well-crafted songs populated with the universal characters, aspirations and human failings that are the timeless staple of folk music. The simplicity of Frank’s songs are what make them so refreshing. As Woody Guthrie once pointed out, “complicated? Any damn fool can be complicated.” The ability to write honest, accessible songs that have a poignancy and lasting impression on a listener is extremely rare.

(Editors Note:  Whilst there is an obvious conflict of interest between the reviewer and subject here, it should be stated that this was not the case at the time)