While all AUK content is free to access, subscribers who donate a small amount each month to support the site are sent a Spotify/Apple Music/Tidal playlist each month featuring the best songs from albums we’ve reviewed, along with the opportunity to win prizes via a monthly draw. One such winner was Les Bright, who won two tickets to the Cambridge Folk Festival and Les, in a very generous gesture, offered to write us a review of his experience, which we gratefully accepted. Here’s Les’ summary of his Cambridge weekend.
Six months ago, supporters (of AUK) were invited to enter a draw to receive two weekend tickets for the Cambridge Folk Festival, which took place on the first two days of August. When I sent my name to Mark’s mailbox, I hadn’t checked the outline programme as I felt sure that there would be acts I’d like to see. And, just as persuasively, Saturday 1st August was the 75th birthday of a good friend with whom I had been sharing music since the early 80s and had been to many gigs with over the years.
So, Mark’s message telling me that I had won was very welcome, and within minutes I sent a WhatsApp to my friend Toby: “What are you doing on 1st August?”
I left Devon on a sweltering day at the end of an extremely hot month, wondering whether it was a blessing that there had been no rain in the east of England for some time. Discussing the weather, the default topic for Brits, is unnecessary; it was hot and sunny, or should I say the evenings were balmy? They were; not least the pre-festival session in the garden of The Ostrich in central Peterborough.
The festival had a year off in 2025, following unsustainably large losses the previous year. The scaled-down 2026 event, the 60th, was nevertheless enjoyable with some great acts; Seth Lakeman (and band) was as energetic as ever, whether opening with stuff from his 2006 breakthrough album Freedom Fields, or last year’s The Granite Way.
Suzanne Vega was a revelation; I obviously hadn’t been paying sufficient attention, as I had her filed away as inactive given the 11-year gap before her last album, which had some great songs, albeit a long time ago. She opened with Marlene on the Wall, reminding us of the length of her career, and played Luka, the poignant song that explores child abuse and has lost none of its original power over the ensuing 40 years. But this was not just a trip down memory lane, as she performed songs from her 2025 album Flying with Angels. I particularly enjoyed Speaker’s Corner, which she described as being all about the 1st amendment, or free speech, to those of us on this side of the pond, currently under threat from within. She told the story of how she came to write Chambermaid, a song written to the melody of Dylan’s I Want You, which she had always loved, from the perspective of a lowly staff member. It was a great story, told well, followed by great musicianship from her, her guitarist, and her cellist.
The festival closed with Richard Thompson, folk royalty, and for half the set Zara Phillips (no, not the royal one married to an ex-rugby player) joined him. She is a singer who’s been married to Thompson for the past 5 years. He has a huge songbook stretching back over the entire lifetime of the festival, and an inimitable playing style; a more powerful trademark than his beret.
But surely, I saw more than the three acts mentioned here? Yes, I did listen intently to the beautiful harmonies of The Deep Blue, who introduced themselves as an Irish woman, a Welsh woman, a Scots woman and an English woman (I thought it was the beginning of a joke) and went on to provide a peerless performance that showcased sparkling wit and repartee alongside some very fine singing.
Sitting under a tree with a beer, I was following the advice of The Otter Brewery, less than 20 miles from my home in the southwest, to “Relax with an Otter” while Jesca Hoop, Lail Arad and Naima Bock performed Songs of Joni Mitchell. This eight-song set was quite something, ranging from the remarkably prescient Big Yellow Taxi, which Arad told us she first sang 30 years ago at the age of two, to Amelia, Carey, A Case of You, and Both Sides Now. They didn’t just sing these beautifully constructed songs; they caressed them, sometimes giving them a new life (as if there was anything wrong with the existing one) that seemed perfectly suited to the occasion.
I hope the festival survives and thrives in these challenging times; in the words of A Free Man in Paris, which they didn’t perform, “You know I’d go back there tomorrow….”
