Since the beginning of this century we have proudly witnessed the reign of British female singer-songwriters. All hail Adele, Amy Winehouse, Florence Welch and Ellie Goulding, who have broadcast British female talent in a way that hasn’t been accomplished since the Spice Girl’s Girl Power era. Although this time round the Union flag is more likely to be found on a trendy sequined bag from H&M or on a faded leather jacket from Topshop à la Marina Diamandis than on a Geri Halliwell dress of questionable fit.

But what about the guys? Since David Gray and (to a lesser extent) Damien Rice, the only male singer-songwriter to achieve global success has been, well erm… James Blunt. Whether or not the general public enjoys his frequently dull and intolerably high-pitched vocals is a different issue entirely. But it’s high time that the lads had a go.

On 9 June a young man by the name of Michael Stafford from Hackney via County Wexford, Ireland sauntered onto the stage of the Jazz Cafe in Camden to chants of ‘Maverick! Maverick! Maverick!’ With his height and baby face, you wouldn’t exactly be ridiculed for mistaking the 20 year old for a student performing at a school talent show organised by a group of overly-enthusiastic parents. But the moment he picks up his acoustic guitar and opens his mouth to belt out the first few warbling notes of ‘Lonely Side Of Life’ you realise that this is not just some kid aspiring to win Britain’s Got Talent. This is Maverick Sabre. And if this performance at his first sold-out headlining gig is anything to go by, Maverick Sabre is a name that you will be hearing a lot more of very soon.

Sabre’s acclaimed performance with a live band on BBC2’s Later…with Jools Holland on 19 April, as well as his sets in Angel Studios have certainly earned his some extra fans on YouTube, but he had already developed a strong fan-base beforehand. In January of this year, his feature on Professor Green’s single ‘Jungle’ peaked at number 31 on the UK Singles Chart, whilst his own track ‘Look What I’ve Done’ has been very successful in the underground scene. Later… with Jools Holland has done wonders for the careers of artists like Damien Rice. However, his performance in this rather small yet fiercely trendy club in the even trendier Camden Town was in his own words ‘The biggest point in [his] career… best show [he’s] ever done’. This is no surprise. There was a real energy in the building, more because of the crowd than anything specific Sabre did. However, the connection between Sabre and the audience was strong - almost like a surprisingly successful high-school reunions. You can’t put a finger on what made it work in a way that new acts’ first performances usually don’t. Everything just felt so comfortable.

Sabre’s calls for audience participation were well-received and I was pleasantly surprised by how many in the audience were able to sing along, even to his very first single. Still, I do wonder whether this was a sign of the dedication of long-term fans who had attended previous gigs or symbolic of the current generation’s aptitude for watching YouTube videos. Either way, the crowd was loving it. And rightly so.

Maverick Sabre’s music combines the sounds of the grime scene from East London where he started his life and career, with soulful and undulating almost reggae-like vocals that I am sure will soon earn him comparisons to another East Londoner Plan B (whom he supported earlier this year) or another white male singer to combine the above musical styles. Perhaps he may even be branded a male Amy Winehouse. This musical fusion was reflected in his choice of supporting acts: Logic and Aruba Red. Logic, a conscious rapper and close friend of Sabre’s freestyles had a more socio-political feel. His lyrics about the criminalisation of council estates and the superficial and consumerist market that the hip-hop industry has become were reminiscent of some of Mos Def and Talib Kweli’s work on their epic Blackstar album. Meanwhile, the equally impressive Aruba Red’s set was more akin to a sober Devendra Banhart or a Katy B on mushrooms. She seemed simply to be high on love (the legal kind).

The crowd’s enthusiasm for Sabre was personified by a smitten blonde who seemed just a tad too comfortable sprawling herself across the front of the stage. Her frequent and probably alcohol-induced attempts to get Maverick’s attention aside, she knew the words to every song on his set list. In fact, the only time when the crowd’s volume lowered even slightly was during his exclusive performance of ‘Cold Game’ the latest track he had recorded for his debut album. And even then the crowd soon joined in with his chorus of ‘Darling it’s a cold world that I wish I could change/ Darling it’s a cold world and I don’t want to live this way / But sometimes it’s like there’s no other way’. This song describes the mistrustful and guarded attitudes that many young people have had to adopt in cities where gang culture and random violence is becoming more and more common.

But despite their enthusiasm, not all the crowd seemed as though they could relate to this mentality. Usually at these kinds of gigs where grime meets something a little more cool and soulful, the crowd is split in half between the TopMannequins (the guys who wear glasses with no lenses and sagging skinny jeans) and the Fresh to Deaths (F2DS will be spotted wearing dark jeans, a plain tee and a pair of Air Forces. Unlike the TopMannequins, F2Ds have a more natural cool and are likely to engage in physical activity other than running through London Fields, taking pictures on their vintage Diana cameras). But this crowd was far more versatile - some looked like they’d be at home at a Mumford and Sons gigs, while others preferred choice might have been Oasis, Giggs or Tinie Tempah. This ability to appeal to different types of crowds is what I believe will separate Maverick Sabre from the typical unlucky in love male singer-songwriters whose lyrics range from heart-wrenching tales about the women they loved and lost to equally tear-inducing stories of the women they love and haven’t yet lost but (due to their aforementioned bad luck) are likely to lose in the near future.

Maverick Sabre is proof that you don’t need unkempt shoulder-length hair, dirty Converses and an equally dirty beard to be a male singer-songwriter with an immense talent and a story to tell. Now I won’t go so far as to hail him the voice of a new generation just yet, but his social-political commentary is told in a way that is relevant to both the victims and instigators of inner-city gentrification and has the soulful roots that older generations can relate to. Simply put, Maverick Sabre has something to say and if you take the time to listen you’ll be glad you heard it.