"There’s my dad," Frank declared, hanging a Celtic top over a microphone, and the audience is always his mother, whose face he still searches anxiously for approval.

The whole evening was about a search for identity. He played an acoustic guitar throughout, sometimes very quietly, demanding attention to the lyrics, which are far too subtle and challenging for the pop scene. Though he is haunted by his memories of Egremont, and when he closes his eyes in New York City the Gulley Flatts Boys are there by his side, the Francis Dunnery, studying for his Master’s degree in Psychology, has made a huge journey since the hell-raising youth of Frankie. In the middle of a city full of sad millionaires, a new born lamb cries ‘Freedom’ on Sca Fell Pike, and the grey clouds sprinkle tears in your eyes. Matty Benn’s Bridge is in his hair. The songs that have a discerning worldwide following, are as full of boyhood memories as the poetry of Wordsworth, and also have the power to move thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.

"The only thing you get to keep is what you give away." These songs do not satisfy the craving for instant comfort in the tinsel dreams of another Christmas. They dare to utter thoughts that are socially - "Hypocrites say I wanna better world, But we’ll just have to make it another day" - and personally - "How can I love you when my heart feels cold as stone?" very disturbing. Like the lyrics of Bob Dylan, they need to be considered deeply.

He was introduced by John Wayne, a rapidly maturing duo that is both thoughtful and melodious, and superbly accompanied by Dorrie Jackson, whose own songs also bravely explore difficult feelings.

Photo above shows Frank with some of the Gulley Flatts Boys he has made world famous.