Maverick Sabre is backstage at London’s Camden Roundhouse and we’re talking attire.

“I’m performing my new single ‘I Need’ at the Digital Music Awards,” explains Sabre. “A red carpet job, should be alright…”
You’d think a crisp suit would be the order of the day.
“Naaah,” he drawls with a chuckle. “No suits around here. Well, I’ve got a nice little cord shirt. Stick a pair of Adidas runners on and that’s me!”
He does have street credentials to protect. Of course, we’re sure Mr. Michael Stafford would much rather be sat in his flat scribbling lyrics about the real social issues affecting his generation or drifting off to 2Pac records than getting his photo taken. Maybe. Such are the contradictions facing the Hackney-born, one-time resident of New Ross. The fresh-faced 21-year-old talking about his “hard slog” in the industry. The poet rapping about tough times whilst touring with Professor Green, Chase & Status and The Script (“Danny was lovely, he came into my dressing-room and told me he’s into my music” he notes). And yet, not for nothing is he earning such plaudits. Put it down to the old head on young shoulders. Put it down to his musical melting pot. A little hip hop drizzled with dubstep, reggae, a little Plan B soul – something for all ‘the kids’. Put it down to the fact that every time he opens his mouth onstage, he seems to have the ability to startle.
Tonight’s performance is another positive step towards the January release of his debut album.
“Everything’s ticking over nicely,” says Maverick. “The first single ‘Let Me Go’ went top 20 for two weeks and the video got nearly three million YouTube views. I’ve just shot the video for ‘I Need’ back in New Ross actually. I got in a bit of the Dublin mountains, a bit on the DART… That got half a million views in one week.”
He’s bolstering his critical credentials to match that populist appeal. A nomination for Best Newcomer at the Music Of Black Origin (MOBO) Awards 2011 is nothing to be sniffed at.
“Most definitely,” he beams. “The category’s so strong this year and that’s no bad thing, whoever wins deserves it. It’s a great group of musicians and an honour to be part of a scene like that.”
For Sabre, his appearance on Later… With Jools Holland trumps everything.
“That was beyond an honour. It’s something I’ve watched since I was a kid, it was always my dream to be on it, y’know? It didn’t really hit me until I had Jools introducing me.” Sabre launches into a perfect impression of the cockney pianist’s presenting style. “‘And next up we’ve got Maverick Sabre!’” he says with a suitably theatrical flourish. “That was a moment of my career that I’ll never forget. My dad was there in the audience waving away at me… it was lovely.” 
Next up is the all-important album. Due out on Mercury in the New Year, Maverick is bullish about
its chances.
“The only pressure I feel is the pressure that I put on myself, not to chart or sell a shedload. I’ve got my own standards set in my head. If it meets them then I’ll
be happy.”
His self-belief certainly came in handy during his early forays on the Irish hip hop scene. Back then, as he himself admits, he would often arrive on stage and be booed or play to no one at all. Is there a resistance in this country to homegrown hip hop?
“It wasn’t so much resistance. It was more that the interest wasn’t really there. You have to spend time building that. I’ve been writing songs since I was about ten and performing since I was 15. So I’d been slogging away for a good while. A lot of people watch The X Factor and think that everything comes instantly. With real music, it doesn’t. You have to grow naturally until you have a hardcore fanbase. It’s all about tapping away to achieve that. Getting to a place where people want to pay money and travel to come see you, put your video on every day when they wake up or buy your song on iTunes. Support you, text in to radio stations, ask festivals to book you… Hopefully that means, in 20-40 years time I can still do shows and my fans will still
be there.”
When he left New Ross for London, did he feel that was the only way his career could progress?
“In a way. It wasn’t like I had to get out to make it but it was an option open for me at the time. I was born in London, I’ve family there, friends… Obviously because the music scene’s much bigger you get a lot more opportunities. I just felt that I might as well make that leap at that point in my life.”
It proved a canny move. Yet, for some, it can require a leap to buy into Sabre’s particular brand of vocals. Part Jamaican, part American, a little Celtic lilt here and there seems to be the only thing that hasn’t been borrowed from his record collection. Not that musicians haven’t been influenced by their musical heroes, the sounds they grew up with, for donkey’s years.
“That’s what music’s all about, innit? It’s from my soul. People can take it whatever way they want... as long as they like it! No, honestly, I’m being real to myself and I’m speaking from my soul. But it’s all good, everyone’s got there opinions. And if it’s positive, I’m delighted.”
When people hear Maverick for the first time and try to equate that voice with its young, pasty owner, incredulity is a common reaction. It’s much the same response that greeted the late Amy Winehouse when she initially broke through. BBC Radio One’s Huw Stephens has called him “the male Amy Winhouse.” With that connection, and his clear admiration for her music, did Amy’s death come as a shock to him?
“Yeah, it did. She was a fantastic artist. She’s a legend lost. Of my generation, she really is the one that stands out and I don’t think she’ll ever be forgotten. Her music will never die. I listen to her every week. Hopefully there’s more material that was never released, she must have been in the studio for a while.”
The downward spiral she entered during her final years had drug and drink addiction at its root. Being in the music business, seeing how freely available substances are, is it a struggle to avoid temptation and those pitfalls?
“There is that side to the industry…” he says tentatively. “But it’s everyone’s individual preference. That’s prevalent in every part of life anyway, as much in music as if you’re a builder or working in an office. Drugs and all that are always going to be there. It’s everyone’s own choice whether they involve themselves in it or not.”
With Amy’s death, a strong female voice was silenced forever. The leading lights of the new generation of r&b and hip hop seem to chiefly preach inclusivity and respect, but the remnants of misogyny still remain in the genre, if not music as a whole.
“I wouldn’t say women aren’t being heard entirely but maybe the female voice isn’t as loud as it used to be. You used to have artists like Lauren Hill and Erykah Badu – who’s still going to be fair – pushing out
positive messages to young women. We need to see more of that.”
Sabre took matters into his own hands with single ‘Look What I’ve Done’ and a lyric keen to empathise with the opposite sex.
“I can’t speak for new female artists and I’m not knocking them whatsoever. Everyone does their own thing. But with ‘Look What I’ve Done’, I felt, as a man, that it needed to be spoken about.”
That’s Maverick in a nutshell - a man with a message. He looks around and sees old friends struggling to find work, struggling to find hope. His songs are built for hard times.
“Definitely. How can you ignore that amount of unemployed people your own age? Even if you look at the London Riots, how can you have something like that going on and have nobody even speaking about it in music? I was in London during it all. It was quite tense to say the least. Music was always supposed to be a representation of what’s going on, especially with the youth. Telling a story and moving people – that’s where the roots came from, even before there was any recording. I think we should bring that back a bit.”

‘I Need‘ is out now on Mercury Records. Maverick
Sabre plays the Village on November 12 as part of an Irish tour.