What's the use of roots if you can't spread them?

(or Why Do We Cage The Things We Love The Most?)

Archive post 

Two years ago, George Papavgeris drew on a dendrological analogy to consider future directions of folk. Worth another read now to consider how the seedlings are doing.

First published in the original Folk21 blog, January 2015

I have been pondering for some time the effect we baby-boomers have had on the folk scene, in the UK at least, as we have grown older.  

Is there any similarity with what has happened to Rock and Pop?  Have we, numerous as we are and better-funded too, compared to both the previous and the following generation, all but stifled creativity, wanting more of the same, giving rise to tribute acts and the re-forming of old bands, re-hashing the familiar to the detriment of breakthrough efforts?

The short answer, I suggest, to all of the above is a resounding “Yes”.  It was inevitable, and done without any malice, of course.  And – just like with Rock and Pop – it has thankfully not managed to completely muzzle the most creative and adventurous in the younger generations.  But it has had / is having an effect all the same.  In fact the effect is worse for Folk, because it hinders the passing-on of the baton where it matters, in traditional music for example.

It is as if we took a cutting from past centuries and planted it in the 50s and 60s, protected it with a good wall going down into the ground, then watered it and fed it so that it grew big and strong.  For a while.  We want to give its benefit to the world, but it can only reach so far, and we generally ask the world to come to the tree in order to taste its fruit.  We have tried to define the folk scene according to our own 50 year old experiences and 60- or 70 year old sensibilities and tastes.

Of course, nature still managed to break through our protective wall. Some roots found cracks and spread a little; but not enough to keep Our Tree going for much longer.  Also, the wind took some seeds and some of them managed to grow into seedlings; we often don’t like their look, or pretend they are not there, but some of them are starting to bear fruit now. What is worse, some of our children like the new fruit, and won’t come to Our Tree any more…  Ring a bell?

Perhaps we should tear down the wall – the old formats of enjoying the music, the Do’s and Don’ts of acceptable behaviours, the venues, the habits, the pseudo-“ownership” of songs and seating arrangements, the rights and wrongs of performance styles.  Just to be intentionally controversial for a moment: What would be so terrible about an old song performed with Rihanna-like melismata, or using synths, or be lyrically adapted for today?

More important still: After tearing down the wall, why not take some cuttings and offer them to the world? Let them be grafted onto strange trunks or grown in strange environments.  Let us take them to such environments and not simply wait for the next generation to come to Our Tree. Yes, let us go to open mics and sing “our” songs; let us flaunt the music we like. My point is that we need to be proactive, to spread the music, and not simply try to attract listeners to “our environment”.  The latter reminds me of churches trying to “modernise” in hopes of attracting followers – it’s not enough.

Sure, we are getting on, and there is only so much energy left, and after all we “know what we like” and we have earned the right to enjoy it the way we like it. What’s more, we have the numbers, and the funds, to do precisely that. We have the power.  But not forever, and if we continue on the same path, Our Tree will die along with its gardeners. We don’t want that, now, do we?

After all, with flower power comes responsibility.