Colchester, in Essex. This is where I grew up. Dark, narrow medieval streets. The kind of town where neighbours still know neighbours’ business. The furthest place from showbiz central London, only one county away. Yet even here, sensitive young men and women strum guitars in basements, and occasionally you unearth something amazing. Here in Betterdays vintage clothing shop on a Saturday evening I was lucky enough to witness the acoustic stylings of Mr Dean Frost. The songs that day were all his own, but also sounded somehow lost and timeless. I don’t know if he has a whole band or what he plans to do in the future, but this was a special show and I had to capture a little bit of it, because this young man is going places.