Saturday
Walking through the festival arena during the morning, after a hearty breakfast at the nearby Unicorn pub, there's a sense of peace and tranquility as the days' first pints of Guinness are poured for those who mean to live the festival to the full. The sweet chorus of unison singing filtered across the field as Karine Polwart gathered those capable of singing in the club tent for her workshop. I chickened out of joining that one as I know Karine is very much into exercising the body properly prior to a good sing, and I have a definite aversion to exercise at that time in the morning.
I took my out of condition body down to the safety barrier in front of the main stage and joined a handful of other people determined to have a good vantage point for some of the most exciting artists appearing at the festival this year. The Orkney based eight-piece collective The Chair got proceedings off to a good start with some rip roaring fiddle tunes before Chris Wood treated us all to a master class of songwriting. Introducing his first song as 'some church bells music', which contrasted starkly with the stompingly energetic first set of the day, "A Cornish Young Man" encompassed everything that I find good and honest about folk song. I'm not sure whether the official festival programme had quite nailed it with Wood's comparison to 'Richard Thompson at his best.' I'd go as far as to say we could possibly be dealing with the new Ray Davies here. Songs such as "Albion" and "Hard" have a fresh perspective on English song writing that seems to strike the same quintessential English chords only previously managed by The Kinks front man. Karine Polwart joined Chris for a couple of songs towards the end of his set; Sydney Carter's "John Ball" and Wood's own 'atheist's spiritual' the gorgeous "Come Down Jehovah".
The whimsical pottiness of Devon Sproule made a welcome change to the usual main stage reserve, with some light relief and unique song writing. With a band that includes veteran pedal steel maestro BJ Cole, Devon Sproule delivered snippets of her catalogue so far including "Plea For a Good Night's Rest" from her 'Upstate Songs' album as well as a couple from her last offering 'Keep Your Silver Shined'. Tipping her multi-coloured psychedelic flower hat to fellow countrymen Neil Young and Joni Mitchell respectively with "Don't Let It Bring You Down" and "Blonde in the Bleachers", the Canadian by birth won over most of the audience, and left those who didn't quite get it, scratching their heads.
Completing the Main Stage afternoon session was Bassekou Kouyate and Ngoni Ba whose masterful command over the ancient Ngoni, a sort of cricket bat shaped forerunner to the banjo, was mesmerizing. The sound of Mali in the middle of such an English city as Cambridge seemed perfectly logical for some reason. Featuring the wonderful Amy Sacko, Bassekou Kouyate and Ngoni Ba held the audience transfixed throughout their set and proved once again that World Music has a very special place at the Cambridge Folk Festival.
Eric Bibb seems to belong to Cambridge Folk Festival; after all he has played here three times previously, bringing his own particular brand of blues and spirituals to a steadily growing fan base. "Still Livin' On" from his last album 'Diamond Days' resonated around the main stage and out into the open fields of Cherry Hinton as we all reminisced about the lovely Mississippi John Hurt, with his felt hat on of course. Joining Eric Bibb was supremo bassist Danny Thompson and regular drummer Larry Crockett.
The decision to wheel the BBC cameras in at this point of the proceedings was predictable. Popularity over credibility is always a driving force in TV land's festival demographic. Radioland's Mark Radcliffe did a grand job in his dual role as MC and BBC camera warm up guy, despite the playful audience's initial attempt to cock up the grand TV coverage introduction by booing in unison when specifically requested to cheer. You could see it coming.
That introduction was for Martha Wainwright, whose over-the-top performance mirrored her brother's cabaret shenanigans rather than reflecting the brilliantly underplayed maturity of her celebrated mother and aunt's heyday. But we have to move on and I reluctantly accept that sex sells.
I must confess my anticipation of k.d. lang's set was lukewarm five minutes before her appearance on the Main Stage, and I already had visions of using upper and lower case in my inevitable review out of sheer mischief. An hour later my jaw was still on the floor as I considered what exactly I had just witnessed and as a result I demonstrated respect and stuck to lower case after all. The quality of k.d. lang's voice is utterly compelling and beautiful and her professionalism and command over an enthralled audience is something to be applauded.
After camping at the front of the main stage for twelve hours solid, an unprecedented feat, the climax of what turned out to be a rich and varied programme was worth the wait. The seventeen-piece conceptual collective known as The Imagined Village took to the stage with mixed media yet united response. Bringing together a diverse gathering of musicians, Afro Celts' Simon Emmerson describes the project as 'the final frontier of world music - Englishness'. With contributions from the likes of Billy Bragg, Martin and Eliza Carthy, Chris Wood, Sheila Chandra, Johnny Kalsi and Benjamin Zephaniah, who incidentally made a special appearance in order to pick up a Talkawhile award on stage for best track "Tam Lin" where the Rastafarian writer and dub poet outed himself as the 'natty dreadlocks rasta folkie'.