Red Eyed Rooster

Old Time Music Blog

Frank Fairfield

June 17th, 2011

By: Scott Phelps

“They call me Frank Fairfield.”  And with those ambiguous words begins the evening’s walk down a dirt road into a world of forgotten banjo styles, fevered fiddle tunes, thumb picked bass runs, and a character known as Frank Fairfield.

If you are familiar with Frank Fairfield, and the act that he brings, then you have probably already made up your mind about him.  If you are not familiar with him, then I encourage you to take this review with a grain of salt, seek out his live performances, and make up you’re own mind about him.

 

I really like old-time fiddle tunes.  I like a good banjo.  I love a voice that offers a deep-throated growl.  Because of all of these, it was only a matter of time before I stumbled across this young man from California.

Let me set the scene: I was at home on a typical Sunday night doing the “YouTube Boogie” – you know what I’m talking about – when you look up a video of something you like, and then a video in the “Suggestions” column catches your eye.  So you click on it; and even though you were looking up videos of Don Williams somehow you are now watching clips of Silver Spoons.  This little dance is what led me to the video of Fairfield performing “Keep My Skillet Good and Greasy,” from the radio program Music City Roots. Instantly, I was baffled by this guy who looked more at home in a Laurel & Hardy movie than he did on the stage of the Loveless Cafe Barn.  He didn’t just play his banjo in a typical clawhammer fashion, he attacked the strings as if casting out the demons that we all know reside inside of banjos.  Then he began singing in a low, scratchy moan.  It’s obvious this guy has spent countless hours listening to 78s, and he has certainly found the ability to channel these forgotten voices.  So for the next hour, I proceeded to watch video after video of Fairfield sawing on his fiddle, attacking his banjo, laying down bass runs on his parlor guitar, and singing from a time that can only be found on shellac.  And so on a beautiful spring Tuesday night, I found myself in the front row at The Grey Eagle, in my adopted hometown of Asheville, North Carolina – so I could see this guy with my own eyes.

After an opening set from Seattle-based duo Cahalen Morrison & Eli West, and a longer than normal intermission, it was time for Fairfield to take the stage.  He looked exactly as expected as he shuffled onto the stage in his wool pants, tweed blazer,  wing-tip shoes, and his shirt buttoned up to the top.  He then took a seat in a vintage school house chair, situated his microphones, gave a brief hello, and launched into a completely acceptable version of  “Sally Gooden.”  And so it goes for the next hour.

The funny thing about expectations is that when they are simply met there still seems to be a hint of disappointment- and for me- Frank Fairfield simply met my expectations.  He would alternate from fiddle to banjo to guitar, and then repeat the cycle.  He would fiddle with the same wild abandonment that is seen in his YouTube videos.  He would attack his banjo with a style that blends many traditional picking styles, and he would sing in the voice that stopped me in my tracks the first time I heard it.  There was little talk between the tunes, maybe a history lesson or two on the origins of a particular song or an anecdote about a forgotten musician.  Other than that, there was very little audience interaction.  The setlist consisted of standard fiddle tunes and blues numbers that are well know in the American roots catalog and some that were not.  For the final tune, Fairfield ended with a firey fiddle medley of “Rye Whiskey”  that segued into “Texas Farewell.”  With this, Fairfield gathered his instruments and walked off stage to a standing ovation from the 30 or so folks in the audience.  After several minutes of clapping and encouragement, he returned to the stage to inform the receptive audience that he enjoyed playing, but he was tired and for us to have a good night.  And so this was my introduction to the man they call “Frank Fairfield.”

The idea of character is what bothers me the most about Frank Fairfield.  It is obvious this man has a genuine love for traditional roots music of all forms. He is a good fiddler, an interesting banjo player, and a talented guitarist.  I completely understand the idea of having a polished show if you are in the performance business, and I understand creating a marketable image.  However, when all of this overshadows the music, the performer’s shelf life is going to be at a minimum.  The thing about Fairfield’s character is that I actually kind of buy it.  I can absolutely believe this guy has never bought a song off of iTunes.  I can believe he prefers his bologna sandwiches to be wrapped in wax paper.  Unfortunately, I can also believe that he may one day be as obscure as the music that he interprets.

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2 Responses to “Frank Fairfield”

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  1. Yanah Leah says:

    I really dig this…his music and voice are haunting (in a good way) Great review Scott…your great!

  2. Justice Jarvis says:

    I enjoyed your thoughtful review of Fairfield’s performance. Reading your piece has got me thinking again about the character he portrays.
    As a long time fan, player, performer, DJ and part-time historian of American traditional/roots music, I try to keep on top of current trends and new performers that pop up in the relatively small old time music scene. I have been aware of Frank’s music for awhile and I must say that despite the almost universal praise he gets, I don’t think I can get on board with the idea of Frank being the “real deal” old time country performer he is often described as being.
    I do think that Mr. Fairfield does a very fine job with his public persona and dress and it is obvious when listening to him that he has spent time doing his homework listening to pre WWII country and blues music. Despite Fairfield’s earnest performances, he strikes me as being quite distant from the culture and context of the true vine of the old time music tradition that came from (and still exists within) the southern working class.
    Recently, I have come to the opinion that Mr. Fairfield belongs more rightfully in the tradition (if it can be called that) of the minstrel performer rather than that of a traditional, rural southern musicianer. While Fairfield does not go as far as to black up, he still dresses in costume for his role in imitating and perhaps even creating an unconcious caricature of southern music makers as he travels from show to show. Fairfield strikes me as a pretty thoughtful guy and I would assume that he has considered the complexities of how his music and character might be perceived.

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