Scunthorpe’s finest ghosted unnoticed into Glasgow tonight, the majority of the place blissfully unaware that one of the country’s premier singer-songwriters had descended upon their fortunate city. But then, that sums up Fretwell himself – as understated and self-deprecating an individual you may struggle to meet, and his angst-ridden, morose songs are an acquired taste. But give him the opportunity to present his wares and you will never be disappointed.
His gravely grunt of a vocal is poignantly beautiful, and perfectly represents his material. He starts acoustically; parading songs such as ‘Run’ and ‘Ground Beneath Your feet’ with aplomb and his between track banter portrays him as an instantly likeable person, just doing what he loves for a living.
The best cheer of the opening period was reserved for ‘Emily’, his anti-love tirade, and the irony isn’t lost when all the couples that littered the crowd gaze into each other’s eyes as Stephen plays ‘their song’. It couldn’t be further from a soppy love-in track if it tried.
The tone is lifted when old friends Pete Turner and Richard Jupp from Elbow jump on to the bass and drums respectively and crank up the noise, partly forced by some useless dick in the front row that felt obliged to sing every pissing note of every single song, much to the dismay of everyone, including the bloke next to me who was going to ‘get that guy and kick his fucking head in’.
Thankfully, Fretwell remained composed, and his material sounded equally as adept when fully backed by a band. ‘San Francisco Blues’, taken from his new album ‘Man on the Roof’ was a particular standout in this jam-packed set, and he is as at home fronting a band as he is gently caressing his guitar all on his own.
Fretwell’s following is obsessive, meaning no track comes across as filler, because they are all received as joyously as each other. His frank, personable approach to music makes him all the easier to embrace, and closing track ‘New York’ may be one of the finest singer-songwriter tracks in years. To catch someone at the peak of their powers with genuine affection for their craft, is something to behold.