Star rating: ***

Songwriters, what are they like? Yorkshire's Michael Chapman once wrote of a brief encounter and insisted to his missus that he was singing about golf. David Francey has a similar tale, eulogising Kansas for its wheatfields when the real object of his admiration is more flaxen-haired.

Still, it's all fuel for the muse. The Ayrshire-born Canadian has turned his life into songs. From his job as a paper boy in Kilmaurs, through relationships amorous and amicable to reflections on parents and grandparents, he really opens up.

Such an autobiographical approach can prove cloying but Francey avoids this through being such an entertaining storyteller as well as a warm singer. His introductions are virtually songs in themselves, sometimes leaving the actual songs they're prefacing at length simply to sum up the situation. His repertoire's not purely about him and his, though - there's also much mirth at his own expense to allay over self-confidence - and some of his best songs have resulted from compassionate observation, be it of Canadian servicemen, international politics or the farming foreclosures that resulted in his powerful, catchy Torn Screen Door.

Completing the package is touring partner Craig Werth, whose guitar and bouzouki underscore Francey's singing and help shape each song with a finely tuned sense of drama.