Frank Turner

Frank Turner seems to model his touring schedule on Bob Dylan’s journalist-dubbed Never Ending Tour, and is a leading light among young pretenders to the folk godfather’s mantle of hardest-working act in the genre. Returning from five weeks of gigging in the United States, where his profile has taken a considerable boost since his signing to prestigious punk label Epitaph Records, Turner sets out on a month-long UK headline tour with hardly a day’s pause.

Tonight's openers at the Picture House, however, are somewhat less road weary. Punk ingenues and Turner labelmates Crazy Arm are a relatively new name outside their hometown of Plymouth, but they do not intend to be quickly forgotten. Taking few stylistic cues from traditional punk, their elaborately crafted anthems are a slow burn at first, but an admirably athletic stage presence and vocalist Darren Johns' versatile strains prove remarkably successful at grabbing (and holding) an initially apathetic audience's attention.

Less ambivalence, however, is conferred on Chuck Ragan. The former Hot Water Music frontman is little short of a legend in some circles, and conveniently it's into these spheres that he ventures tonight. Ragan snarls and hollers his way through the set with little ceremony but a great deal of heart, and the marriage of his punk heritage to the great American folk tradition works beautifully.

Have no doubt, though: Ragan and Crazy Arm are little more than foreplay for the Edinburgh crowd tonight. Turner emerges from the wings (where he was spotted lurking during Ragan's set) to chaotic applause, lunging straight into fan favourite 'Photosynthesis' without a word.

At first, however, the long miles seem to have taken their toll; Turner seems exhausted, drinking water instead of beer, and though he conceals it well, it begins to show: 'Try This At Home' seems to lack some of its normal anthemic energy, though it nonetheless excites frenzies of fist-pumping and hoarse singalong from the crowd. This proves to be a consistent feature of this evening, with most of the crowd well-versed in many of Turner's lyrics. This unfettered devotion seems to reflect back onto the stage, and you can almost see the adrenaline taking hold. Turner performs non-stop for ninety minutes, bounding around the stage and sparring affectionately with his backing band.

Offering a reasonable cross-section of his three albums, it's interesting to note the extent to which 2009's Poetry of the Deed exposed Turner to a wider audience. Lead single 'The Road' and angry-young-man anthem 'Sons of Liberty' incite near riotous responses, but only the purists in the room seem to respond as enthusiastically to earlier hits 'Once We Were Anarchists' and 'The Real Damage'. His abrupt departure from the stage makes calls for an encore a simple formality, and an impassioned duet with Chuck Ragan on Ragan's 'Revival Road' brings the sweat-dampened curtain down on one of Britain's most beloved new folk artists.