Mind out of time

If you were to meet either Frank Fairfield or Erik the Red on the street, you’d think that each was an absolutely one-of-a-kind, true American original. They’re both difficult to get in touch with, wear high-waisted stovepipe pants, speak with the wide-eyed, hopeful innocence of pre-Watergate Americans, and, indeed, both sing as if the second half of the 20th-century never happened.