Oh hell no.

Reports of the death of folk music are greatly exaggerated. Change is occurring, and the old models may no longer work, but folk music is not going anywhere. What people forget is the fact that folk music is a LIVING tradition, and traditions evolve.

The recent news of the demise of the outstanding New Bedford Folk Festival as well as seeing the venerable Vancouver and Philadelphia Folk Festivals enter hospice care have thrown panic into the folk community. Other festivals, such as the relatively new Old Tone Festival announced they are shutting down as well, and there are other smaller festivals that are also debating their future. Couple that with the closure of numerous venues across the country along with low attendance at many others and there has been cause for great concern.

Folk music is not dead, but the way we did business is.

Do the old models need changing? Perhaps “adapt” is a more appropriate word to use. More importantly, it might be time for the old guard to step back and let new generations build their own future. Too many of us have expectations of young people falling in line to enjoy the same presentations on the same stages that we did and young folks to adapt to our way of doing business. We often wear blinders to the fact that there was a time when WE rejected old ways of doing business and created our own scene.

Today, with fewer stages, smaller audiences, more expenses for touring, artists are hurting. With a handful of exceptions, mainstream commercial media has never taken notice of all the talent that exists in our folk community – and those that were noticed often had to resort to hiding their folk roots. “Folk” was and still is a four-letter word.

I was in conversation with a well-known folk artist over the weekend and this person suggested that perhaps it is time for festivals and our community to drop the word “folk” because of the connotations it holds for young audiences. I think that is a huge mistake. Folk music has always been something people discover for themselves. There is no need to hide what we are, but it might be worth examining exactly what folk music really is.

Some of you old-timers will recall when Dylan plugged in at Newport Folk Festival and the consternation that erupted. Dylan had been playing electric prior to that Newport appearance, but the media hopped on because the august institution that was the public face of folk music was seemingly under assault.

Remember what happened? Media and commercial radio began treating folk music like yesterdays fish. The media moved onto the next flavor of the day. Many previously labeled “folk singers” evolved into singer-songwriters and picked up electric guitars and percussion. I’m not knocking it, the role of artists is to create and that requires observation of the world that exists around them. But there was also something bigger happening in the folk music community of the era.

Sometimes you just need to give the finger to what people are telling you and continue to explore the art that is within yourself. After the commercial interests packed up their toys and went to play in someone else’s yard, the core of the folk community continued to thrive. From the late 60s right up to present day, something of a Brigadoon effect occurred. New festivals rose up, smaller in scope and catering to needs of an audience that was looking for alternatives to what they were hearing on commercial radio and TV. Coffeehouses sprang up in church basements, run by volunteers with a love for music and community. We saw the birth of new singer-songwriters who were rooted in the traditions and had a vision of their art that didn’t involve high-end production tricks. Folk music had returned to its roots and built an audience that helped sustain it for decades. We flew under the radio of the mainstream, and we were happy.

Flash forward to 2023. Many of the folks that organized those coffeehouses and festivals are still running the shows. Founders syndrome sets in. We are certainly older and still hold onto our ideals, yet we often forget the fact that we built a community because the mainstream wasn’t serving our needs.

I am on several Facebook groups dedicated to various folk festivals and I often see people posting stories and pictures from the “good old days”. I see photos, taken at festivals decades ago, showing crowds of young people walking barefoot with their long hair blowing in the wind as they celebrate music together. I then see the same people posting photos of audiences in recent years with the same people who now wear orthopedic shoes and sport hairlines that have long receded with faces that reflect years of living (Yes, that describes me too!). The festivals today are drawing an aging crowd, and the artists they loved are also getting older and unfortunately, we are losing many of them.

There are efforts being made to resuscitate the Philadelphia and Vancouver folk festivals and the organizations that run them. I sincerely do hope they succeed, and I do hope that they adopt new operational methods. You can’t expect a band aid to cure all ills, sometimes drastic measures are required.

I don’t mean to paint a dark picture. I’m also not saying that those of us of a certain age should step aside and spend our days feeding pigeons in the park.  No, we need to do what we do – but – I sincerely believe that new generations are already creating their own musical scene with venues and events that are different from what we experienced. It may be hard for us to see it, but it is happening. Young people are much smarter than we were, they benefit from the examples we set and now they need the space to create their own settings. Folk music will not die because a folk festival ceases to be.

A church is only a building, and buildings don’t last forever. It is the people that create a congregation. New choirs will make their voices heard. The folk music community will keep singing.

(The views expressed here are, as always, my own.)