No, I am sorry. A blossom is at best a potential cherry. An egg yolk is the possibility of a chicken. You might as well say that a book that hasn’t been published is already a book. Which I think some versions of the song do actually say.
Yes, I did get to the ballad session, and I actually made a note of what was sung: as well as the riddle song we had Brown Adam, Long Lankin, something which might have been called the Widow Woman’s Daughter From Westmoreland, Jim Jones, Pretty Betsy the Milkmaid From Blackberry Ford, (which I made a note to try and learn), Lord Thomas and Fair Eleanor (which doesn’t narrow it down), Bruton Town, and Dives and Lazarus.
I irrevocably associate Dives and Lazarus with the Mary Wallopers version, but this had less swearing. (“Thou art none of mine brother Lazarus” as opposed to “I’m going to call the police-i-um”). Both versions arguably leave out the main point of the Bible story.
I think the Ballad Session provides a necessary balance to the Big Stars on the main stages.
It is very hot. I might even say too hot. I have a very sensible messenger bag with pockets that I call my Everything Bag, so in theory, I always have a programme, a comb, some tissues, and a kazoo with me. After four days, all the pockets are mixed up, and I can never find the one thing which is needful. Did I mention that it was very, very hot?
There was a moment when Joshua Burnside came onto the stage where I randomly thought of the famous photo of John Lennon with the Quarrymen. It was probably the rolled-up shirt sleeves and the fact that I’d seen Bootleg John a few days ago. Why does no one warn you when this kind of thing is about to happen? He starts singing vernacular poetry to folkie tunes, and my brain suddenly switches from "hot" (did I mention that it was hot) to "fully engaged". Diving into my Everything Bag for my notebook to jot down lyrics:
“The last armchair you ever sat in before your overdose / Is the one I sit in every day to eat my egg on toast”
“I can’t imagine why anyone would do that / tell me brother why did you do that?”
Really, it’s these moments I go to festivals for.
Miranda Sykes and Jim Causley did their "songs we like that aren't necessarily folk-songs" set, which is lovely. The EFDSS “new comers” slot in the cellar included a very young and very charming group of young people called Woodkern, who I am 80 per cent sure I heard in another configuration at the Falmouth shanty festival and a young singer-songwriter called Ezmy Grace, who sang a self-written song about a supposed witch whose body was exhibited as an attraction for two centuries after her death. "Joan’s bones, no longer abused."
[Olly the Shanty Boy confirms that three of the people in Woodkern are also in Kessenyan.]
Ended the day in Bulverton, the standing-up tent, where Steve Knightley did a full band gig. So that’s twice I’ve heard Cousin Jack! Phil came on to sing Crow on the Cradle, and played the fiddle interlude in Galway Farmer. Steve was slightly less demonstrative in that song than he sometimes is, and I thought all the better for it.
I don’t know the reason behind the Show of Hands split, but it was clearly amicable. It has to be said that the big-band format with guests and cameos has given Steve’s act a huge shot in the musical arm. I sang a song about a farmer buying a male hen in the campfire tent, which doesn’t have any innuendo in it at all. I sang a sad song in the Middle Bar to prove that I can.
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