On my mind

I ALWAYS wanted to be a folk singer when I grew up, but I was told I couldn’t do both.

So now I listen to folk music and slip into the odd ‘open mic’ in Llanelli, merge into the murky shadows and pretend I can play the mandolin with some obscure tunings.

I often used to wonder why folk clubs and ‘open mic’ nights were so badly lit, but then of course the Dylanesque purists have problems with light bulbs because they are electric.

I also used to wonder why they started so late, but then some singers never know when to come in.

That wasn’t the case, though, in last week’s 25th Gower Folk Festival, a delicious musical feast in the atmospheric grounds of Weobley Castle and a stunning view over the estuary to enhance the hog roast.

Folk music is an elastic term and that weekend encompassed glorious harmonies, lilting ballads, haunting medieval tunes, lyrical waltzes, slide guitar, jigs and reels and some frenetic fiddle, squeeze box, mandolin and banjo playing.

Of course, the difference between a folk festival and an ‘open mic’ event is that in the former young people play to old people and in the latter old people play to old people.

Yet folk music can traverse the generations, be a cohesive force for good and a mouthpiece for social commentary.

As well as relating historical events and telling stories about folk heroes, folk is a useful genre for challenging the status quo (not the band!) and calling out the rottenness in our society as did the early protest songs.

As the UK becomes dark, soulless and divided perhaps protest folk will replace the narcissistic, simplistic, and market-driven pop industry.

But that’s about as likely as a folk singer with a mortgage.

Follow Graham on Twitter@GeeTDee