David Francey
by Dugg Simpson
Artistic Director, Vancouver Folk Music Festival
When he is not performing his most wonderful songs for people, he works as a carpenter. Having spent a fair bit of time now listening to his music, I think I can say with some assurance that these facts of his life have a strong affect on his work as a songwriter. Carpenters build things that are to be used, and they build things to last.
David's songs are meant to be sung, and the more voices there are singing them, the better they sound. They are also built to last - so well put together that they are rich in that beauty which is perhaps the most elusive of all, simplicity ... that kind of economy of expression where the line between craft and art is crossed.
His work is the just about the complete opposite of the disposable, high-tech, hurry-up world that most of us find ourselves living in, which I think is where the rural part of his life informs his work. There are a lot of other people out there trying to strike that same sort of musical chord, but damn few ever pull it off. David writes songs about love and the losing thereof, yes, but unlike so many others he also writes songs about working for a living, about birds down the road and about those small precious parts of life that are slipping away all the time, like the last run of the St. John's Train and a family losing their farm.
It sounds startlingly like folk music, of the kind that kick-started the folk revival in the early sixties, or the kind that Stan Rogers became so justly famous for singing. He writes songs you find yourself singing after hearing them only once and wishing you had the lyrics to hand so you could sing them all the way through.
