No sooner had the video for first single “Rockstardom” appeared online than this plaintive sketch of artistic life on the breadline was adopted as an unofficial anthem for the new depression. If you’ve only heard “Rockstardom”, you may be tempted to dismiss it as a novelty. But, thankfully, Shields’ album reveals a songwriter of majestic simplicity. “This is who I am/And this is where I’m going,” he declares on album opener “Going Like A Boeing”, establishing an immediate, yet quiet, authority on what follows. And what follows is a terrific listen, placing this singer-songwriter from Bethlehem in the Free Sate easily in the company of modern-folk flag- bearers like Billy Bragg, Vic Chesnutt and Baxter Drury.

Yet comparisons hardly do justice to an album that establishes Shields’ musical fingerprint with enviable efficiency and speed. Musically, Truth and Recession is deceptive: what sounds loose, shambolic even, disguises a genuine musical depth that allows the construction of the songs to meticulously service Shields’ lyrics – the real reason why his debut is so impressive. Shields is one of the best wordsmiths working in contemporary music globally, his radar guarding against clichés and allowing him to write songs about love (“Stay x 3”) and death (“Damascus”) in a manner that sounds original to even the most hard-bitten cynic.

Let’s face it, few people can actually make singing about saliva (“I like the saliva when we kiss,” on “Simonstown”) sound so appealing. Shields’ small-town, rural laments – “Simonstown”; “Golden Gate” – have big-world appeal, by making the minute, the mundane and the personal universal. His location is unmistakably South Africa but such thrilling music means he’s heading for much bigger places.