Ceilidh dancing, Morris dancing, Dad dancing and the promise of incredible music. With four days stretching over the Bank Holiday weekend and ideal weather, Shrewsbury Folk Festival 2025 offered all aspects of folk life, something for everyone, even those who don’t particularly care for folk music. Despatches from the front line Simon Jones. 

There is an almost tangiable sense of anticpation about Shrewsbury 2025, it even seems to seep across the River Severn and into the town infecting the whole centre. Even the huge banner which stretches over Pride Hill seems to flutter in the slight breeze with an offer of temptation whilst the talk in lunch time Friday coffee shops is of the coming event and predicted high lights. Amongst the tourists, locals and shoppers you can spot those going to the festival, perhaps a T shirt of band or a previous year’s line up, the odd tankard, small back packs, folding chairs – the biggest give away.

Accomodation secured and car parked, it’s a merry stroll along the banks of the river to the Show Ground which has been home to Shrewsbury for years now.  “Oh yes,” smiles the steward dealing with our press tickets, ” we think this one’s going to be excellent, there’s been a lot of work gone into everything.” With her words ringing in my ears and optimism everywhere it’s time to dive in.

Kezia Gill with a small but perfectly formed band switches between styles with ease, countryish in her own writing, bags of mainstream potential, she even stops things and announces she’s going to do an Irish trad song in tribute to her roots. Having supported the likes of Bruce Springsteen, The Shires as well as being BBC radio friendly, it doesn’t take much to spot her potential and see where she’ll be heading pretty soon. A decent set from someone you’ll be reading far more about and hearing far more from.

Joni Mitchell’s thankfully been back amongst us latterly, performing as part of an all star tribute to her at Newport back in 2022, thus her music gained a whole new set of younger followers. No, she wasn’t at Shrewsbury but tribute band This Flight Tonight were. Dipping in and around her first decade they seemed best on later cuts ‘Court & Spark,’ ‘Amelia,’ ‘Coyote’ where the jazz and improvisation kicked in, though ‘Big Yellow Taxi,’ got the thumbs up from the crowd just the same. In other guise they’re Zervas & Pepper an acoustic duo in love with Laurel canyon vibes and period sound. Perfect qualifications for the task in hand.

Inevitably there would be stage time clashes and Skerryvore who’d done a very amiable sigining session earlier in the day just happened to be one. Part of a special ‘Showcase Scotland,’ package which delivered over the weekend several reasons why Scottish music is currently undergoing a happy upsurge, the Severn stage was rammed for their late night Friday set people arriving from all corners determined to party. They didn’t disappoint either, a band honed by the road, as I type they’re over in the US of A delivering contemporary Scots rock with bags of commericial appeal and a pop edge. Be in no doubt though that their music is also all about a sense of place, as soon as the bagpipes, squeeze box, fiddle and whistles strike up a muscled power jig the audience whoop and reel in response. They know the words to each song and when Alec Dalglish implores them to “sing it along with us, ” or “come on now Shrewsbury you know this one,” they don’t need second bidding. Full marks to the underlying keyboards and rhythm section for excellent anchoring on the flying instrumentals. The hooley was in full swing as I departed for a ‘must not miss’ set taking place very soon on Pengwern.

Scots wha hae : Skerryvore. 

If you can mark out one individual who’s done more to progress British folk in the last couple of decades then that person would be Jim Moray.  Years back the editor of a very well known folk rooted publication sent me an EP of four tracks and asked me to investigate, which I duly did. I tracked down a young artist just bursting with promise and potential, we met for a Sunday morning interview at Stafford Gatehouse theatre, the EP it turned out was a short run thing by which he hoped to get wider exposure and was home made using programs like Pro Tools on his computer. That wider exposure followed swiftly as did a ground breaking debut which pushed folk music into places it’d never been before, ‘Sweet England.’ Since then anything he’s released has at the very least been intriguing, at best pioneering. He’s never stood still utilising both electric and acoustic elements as he saw fit. Lately though he’s been busy, but fairly quiet, a couple of download singles signalling new music and perhaps a slight return to being plugged in. His set at Shrewbury then was an open book in terms of expectation.

What followed was glorious and certainly the best thing the weekend had to offer. On marched Jim and musicians, a straight rock line up, guitars, keyboard, bass and drums. Not a traditional instrument in sight, this boded well. ‘Fair Margaret & Sweet William,’ began matters, a flurry of melody, rhythms and clear lyrics…what was I hearing? Well I’ll tell you what, this was a folk and rock alliance for the 2020s. If you’re into the likes of Radiohead and Coldplay, you could relate. In one fell swoop he’d delivered style, substance and sound which was clearly contemporary. And so it rolled, every song you’d want, I’d hestitate to call it a ‘Best Of’ but it wasn’t far off, ‘William Of Barbary,’ ‘Leaving Australia,’ ‘Rufford Park Poachers,’ all crisp and sharp, the band grooving and obviously enjoying it as much as the audience who gave each number a rousing reception. Mid set out came his acoustic guitar, two unplugged songs ‘The Sounds Of Earth,’ sheer class and then “a number I used to do at sound checks” from childhood memory ‘Jock O’ Hazeldean,’ in tribute to Dick Gaughan in some difficulty these days, the story of love triumphant despite arranged destiny was tender and warm. Back came the lads ‘Sweet England,’ reminded us that not all across the Big Pond is as attractive as it once was. Too right! ‘Spencer The Rover,’ the best of the downloads referred to earlier and ‘Edward Of The Lowlands’ drove matters rockwards to the inevitable ‘Seven Long Years,’ a hell of a finale, each of them bouncing off each other and grinning from ear to ear. Mass shouting for more and hollered requests for tracks not played made Mr. Moray smile, strap on his guitar once more and deliver ‘Crossing The Bar’ for an encore. That was your lot but it sent the packed marquee into the night knowing they’d witnessed something special. You can only pray someone had the good sense to record it, therein lies one hell of an album. I’d give it twenty out of ten. Remarkable.

 Jim gives it large on guitar and vocal. (Photo Harriet Jones.)

Shrewsbury 2025 was always going to have a bittersweet edge to proceedings as it hosted what was in essence the last hurrah for Oysterband. However they weren’t going quietly.  Spread across the weekend were various forms of Oyster, a Q&A, a ceilidh and concert, take your pick or be like me and take the lot. John Jones, Ian Telfer and Alan Prosser were open and honest about ending the group, times change, circumstances change, we’re older… they were though immensely proud of what the band had achieved, pleased to have been associated with Cooking Vinyl, discussed alternate what ifs, swore they’d all keep in touch and concluded with a brief acoustic set which contained a delightful run through of ‘The Oxford Girl.’ Much later at the Dance tent they rolled back the years to a time they’d spent providing the sound track for more country dance evenings than they’d care to recall. The playing was light and deft which lifted your feet as they sped through a repertoire of melodies filled out by the presence of Chopper once more recalled to their ranks on cello. They genuinely seemed to be having as much of a ball as we on the dance floor.

The main focus though was their Sunday night set, wherein I’m sure they knew they’d have to deliver. The proceeding set by the ever gregarious and overly energetic El Pony Pisador – who you may recall were larking around and successful at Cropredy – were back here as perky and brimming with shanties and manic jigs. There’s a magic which they scatter from the moment they arrive to the time they depart, it’s called personality and numbers untold fall under their spell, Shrewsbury no exception. Reels equal mass dancing and conga. Follow that Oysterband! Could they? Did they? Is the Pope Catholic? Two years is a long time to say goodbye and as Shrewsbury could be seen as the Oysters spiritual home that lent poignancy, there was a lot of good in this goodbye. Besides Chopper, ex drummer Lee Partis joined in on additional percussion. Setting the tone ‘Native Son’ got us underway as they cantered through classic English rooted rock, numbers that we’d all sung along to for ages. ‘Northern Lights,’ ‘When I’m Up’ ‘All That Way For This’ – laid with irony – fill in your own favourite as John Jones, arms stretched wide invited us to share in the message and the celebration. No one deserving more to share in that celebration than June Tabor the roar that greeted her arrival was huge. ‘Love Will Tear Us Apart,’ chilling and bleak, aching with regret as she exchanged the emotional rawness with John Jones, Chopper’s cello underlining the sorrow. By contrast, the trad ‘Fountains Flowing,’ was an enticing piece of electric folk utilising an old hymnal melody on another, slower considered performace in which JT excelled. When it came to the eventual closing the song was – appropriately – ‘Put Out The Lights’ as part of an extended encore, which saw Oysterband depart and bring down the curtain on years of achievement, their finest songs still ringing in our ears and minds as we trudged away in the dark exhilarated by what we had just witnessed. Oyster music will endure that is certain.

The appearence of 9Bach was another slice of inspiration by the organisers, not often enough do they venture over the border and here the Welsh fusionists, proved their worth by diving deeply into a new groove ridden guise, chiefly driven by drummer Andy Gangadeen. Always with a nod to Welsh culture, history and landscape in their material there’s also the very active imaginations of Lisa Jen Brown and Martin Hoyland added to the mix. Stacked with heavy rhythms, booming bass and electronics, the identifiable Welsh instrumentation – harp- has been sidelined in favour of rave type structures which coat the new material the band have composed and older songs are adapted to fit new clothing. The focus however remains on Lisa Jen’s vocals which weave the sense of place through out and convey both emotion and atmosphere. Any decoration came from the keyboards of Miriam Haf Roberts whilst Hoyland’s guitar set to sonic, scythed across the solid anchor of Gangadeen’s clouted drums and bassist Dan Swain fat, funky drive. 9Bach were different, you could hear fresh ground being broken.

Is there such a thing as Ceilidhcore? Not a question I often ask. If so Glorystrokes are perhaps its only proponents. The dance tent at Shrewsbury late Saturday night is full of oddly dressed indivduals, goths galore, zombies, skeletons, ghosts and even Dracula, I think… Anyway not your average country dance. This is all tremendous fun as my good lady and I wheel and turn around to squeezing and wheezing melodeons which sit rather loosely on top of a thrash metal beat and howling guitar lines. Metallica goes Anglo trad? Who cares? The band are dressed bizarrely too – though you get the idea that just maybe this is their regualr attire, yoiks!  – and make very loud music turned up to 11 which makes you want to skip and jump about. Great. They’ve even got an album of their stuff, cannily titled ‘Rude Mechanicals.’ Work it out for yourself.

Y’ wanna Circassion Circle then mate? Grindcore ceilidh with Glorystrokes.

Equally as barmy The Bar Steward Sons Of Val Doonican – the only band worth hearing from Barnsley, who get cold feet if they venture south of Stoke, are the Lords of pastiche and as they claim “your favourite songs butchered by blokes in tank tops.” With no two shows the same – almost guaranteed – you could watch a whole tour by TBSSOVD and find each one equally as if not more entertaining than the previous night. How much of it is off the cuff is hard to ascertain as you’re too busy laughing. They’d certainly discovered more family members since I saw them last, Mo-Jo, The Right Rev. JR and Dave not called Tom, so I understand, bringing fiddle, mandolin and bass to the Doonican party which has increased their diversity considerably, regular bouts of jigging and hoedown break out across the set. Yes, Scott still crowd surfs, very precise instructions from yer man “come over here, over there.” It still takes those at the front by surprise even if they’ve seen it done many times before. Alan has more of a role with keyboards as well as accordion, even his own fan chant. In fact they’re all fine multi instrumentalists behind all the tom foolery. On the other hand perhaps Tom Foolery Doonican will be in the next line up.  Reet champion tha’ knows.

Rocking anything but gently. The Bar Steward Sons show their Barnsley chops. (Photo Harriet Jones.)

Having a mental map of Shrewsbury’s site in your head does help, this track goes to…. Pengwern, that one to Sabrina. You soon get the geography and it was on one such sprint between stages that I happened by the Village stage and heard some superb harmonies from several ladies who I later found were called The Norfolk Broads. They diverted me from my orginal destination such was the clarity of their individual voices and the smoothness in the way they blended together.  On another occasion passing by the Dance Tent and hearing some great thumping folk rock and clog dancing, I stuck my head around the flap and came across The Demon Barbers renowned for their integration of hip hop and break dancing along with traditional dance, forming an integrated mutant which works splendidly alongside some great electric versions of folk songs from a band which besides Damien Barber also featured young box maestro Cohen Braithwaite Kilcoyne who seemed very happy to be plugged in and rocking. An interestingly flexible engine room with wrap around keyboards made for an absorbing forty minutes or so of theatre. It made sucn an impression I clean forgot where I was originally headed for. Whilst we’re on the subject of stumbling across great music you hadn’t expected to, Touki were entrancing with their cross pollination of Senegal and America, they create a dancing Kora driven jive, which accordeon weaves in and out of whilst the guitar improvises bluegrass and jazz lines through the spaces in between. Apparently the musicians met whilst busking in Somerset.

Judie Tzuke at a folk festival, well why not? She’s a singer songwriter who years ago used to try out her songs with a guitar in her local folk club. Just because she had a hit and was signed to Elton John’s record label doesn’t alter the fact. That’s what she still does, writes songs and sings them.  Sometimes she writes for others, sometimes for herself. ‘Stay With Me’Til Dawn,’ the best known of them retains it’s small corner, candle light ambience. Along with her daughter on backing vocals she delivered a smooth set of pop rock which filled Sunday afternoon with a warm nostalgia.

In contrast to Judie, The Rainbow Girls seemed to take just about everything and throw it into the blender and see what came out. More often than not the results reflected social issues, what they’d experienced or every day life which’s getting increasingly harder and more bizzare. They wrap their concerns in harmonies and melodic clothing which owes nothing to any particular style except a down to earth, honest, straight forward, grass roots approach to music making. There’s nothing mumsy or cosy about them, you’d only have to look at their history to see that – several years as a rock band – taught them that stripped back and direct was what suited them best. Yes, there is a lot of roots in their tunes but equally they’ll slide in bluesy touches or even the odd country twang, guitars and a huge stand up bass giving the impression of a concerned urban Carolina Chocolate Drops. All dressed in silver they proved delightful, strong mesages with a smile and dedication.

” Monday morning you sure look fine,” sang Lindsey Buckingham. Monday at Shrewsbury was sure fine…. and very hot. Even I had to put sun cream on, a very rare event indeed, but hey..who wants sun burn? Morganway kicked things off around lunchtime with a set of er.. bluesy Southern rock, that’s about as close as I can really get, though there were huge down home moments as well and quite a few cowboy hats. Their guitarist one Keiran Morgan played a cool, retro flying V whilst vocalist SJ Mortimer seemed to be channelling Janis Joplin and Grace Slick, her on stage mood visibly bouyed by Shrewsbury’s response to the band’s music – pink sunglasses though? Honed to a fine point, you’d never have guessed their fiddle player was a last minute substitution as his strings danced around the huge sounding bass and drums, thumbs up as well to the keyboards which under pinned the melodies. Even their version of “Pink Pony Club” was enticing and damn sight better than the slight pop hit by somebody called Chappell Roan. All told this set did Morganway’s reputation no end of good.

Her Dad could have his strange moments but Martha Wainwright wears her heart on her sleeve portraying a raw, emotional honesty that has become her trademark. It takes a while to adjust your ear and musical senses, but once you’ve tuned in, then she’s a unique voice. Her songs seem like small corner candle light confessionals, whispered secrets that you shouldn’t really be listening to yet you can’t help yourself. In contrast Sam Kelly & Jamie Francis came out and gave us a huge sounding, well mixed clutch of original and traditional material which proved bouncy, swinging and sing along. Taking what amounted to a club set and adapting it for a festival stage with a large numbers of people is no small achievement, once they began you could see why they were so busy jetting here, there and everywhere in a perplexing variety of line ups. Kelly revealing he’d got to zoom off to Denmark as soon as he walked off stage. He could have been forgiven if he had been a little off target, not one bit of it though, he was aimed squarely at the bullseye. With a solo album to push Kelly chose his team mate well, Francis was both an able support and perfect contrast on banjo. I’d like to see them in full cry with The Lost Boys at some stage. Here they proved the perfect lead in to the closing act of Shrewsbury 2025.

 Would you trust this man to close your festival? Leveller Chadwick “get on yer feet!”

Standing in queue for a cup of coffee earlier in the day who should be one in front but Mark Chadwick, The Levellers arrived early and mingled. Chatty and happy to spend time meeting and greeting, stopping for selfies, pre gig you knew that these guys had the ultimate connection with their audience and that from the number of Levellers T shirts on display that they – like Oysterband – weren’t going to let anyone down. Seated audiences are all well and good in a theatre or music hall setting but sitting wasn’t an option once the band started. Chadwick as court jester kept encouraging everyone to get up and dance, even admitting at several points that what The Levellers play could well be folk music. There followed over an hour of dancing of various types by all manner of individuals, all ages. One maturer punter in a green T shirt, shorts and flip flops produced some of the most interesting moves and shapes I’d ever seen a 70 year old come up with. A cross of Dad and Idiot dancing he was clearly in a space of his own but obviously enjoying himself and that is what it’s all about. Me? Of course, the only option was to get up and join in whilst watching the heaving hordes grow with each passing number. We got all their big songs, think “One Way,” ” Boatman,” “Riverflow,” “Far From Home,” and if you thought you’d heard loud before, well the tumbling folk punk and screeching fiddle must have been turned up to fifteen. Each of the band on stage bouncing like they were on springs just as knackered as the mass of humanity out front. Of course they revved up and wound down with “What A Beautiful Day.” It had been too, musically and weather wise.

There was of course dance of other kinds to be seen and sampled at Shrewsbury in fact the dance bill was every bit as wide open, varied and lively as the music. I’ve already mentioned the grunge ceilidh and the Oyster’s jovial spree, Shrewsbury’s regular Morris agents The Shropshire Bedlams seemed to be omnipresent, always with bags of energy, much loud shouting and gleeful yelps as they capered through routines far more risky and complicated than a whole season of Strictly. Border morris I believe its labelled, as far from bells and hankies as you can get. They proved the most effective whilst scaring the living daylights out of the shoppers in the town centre. Good fun nonetheless. The Witchmen dance what they describe as  “pagan morris from the dark side.” All gothic make up, tatters the colour of Wolverhampton Wanderers’ home kit – no connection proven – they’re equally as robust and loud as The Bedlams but with pounding drum beats, skull imagery and what appears to be the tails of untold pheasants in their hats, they’d probably make ideal dancing extras in a Hammer horror movie. Twisting, adapting and rewriting dances they’re creating a contemporary face along – with The Bedlams – for morris to continue for years to come. Creativity lives as does the tradition. Good for them all.

Statistics they say can be used to prove anything but what’s undeniable is that Shrewsbury this year pulled in more punters through the gates in significant numbers. In a period when other festivals have gone to the wall, taken a break or reformatted altogether, whatever it is that this festival has is working and thriving. You can debate all day long what it is that drives the success which is evident, any number of factors of differing relevance, from something as small a smile and greeting  from the stewards and festival workers to the acts and names they put on the stage. The variety of music/dance presented over four days…yes four days, not three, keeps expanding the horizons of what you can find under the umbrella term of folk. These people are enthusiasts and they want you to join them in that crusade. After all the more you dig the more you find, even in the most obscure of corners new discoveries and delights are just waiting to be unearthed. Shrewsbury 2025 was a positive, wonderfully vibrant weekend. You can book now for 2026. From inspiration to enthusiasm, now where have I heard that before?