One night in 2008 my dad took me to see Pentangle play at the Royal Festival Hall on London’s South Bank. The band had risen to fame in the late 60s, known for fusing British folk melodies with blues and jazz syncopation. The old folk songs I heard Pentangle perform that night felt haunting and ancient, yet comforting somehow; they spoke to a unnamed longing within me that felt as old as time. I learned about wassailing, morris dancing and mummers’ plays; about the Welsh Mari Lwyd, Highland folklore and the country’s age-old folk songs, which offer an alternative history of the nation, told from the ground up. For a long time I kept my folk fixation to myself; I always felt it was a bit odd.

Source: The Guardian March 14, 2026 17:31 UTC