The Guardian, 15 October 1963: The modest boomlet is showing every sign of turning into a super colossal folkburger, with plenty of chips on every plate and juice there for the squeezing
There has been a minor folk-song boom for as long as most addicts can remember. Nothing spectacular, nothing bloated, but steady, devoted, sure – a lasting, rippling tide of interest.
It started in the mid-fifties when skiffle’s bubble burst. Skiffle was really a convenient compromise, folksy and portentous enough to engross those repulsed by rock’s simpleton thumps but needing scant talent to bolster its pretensions. Anyone could expel a nasal screech or scrape a washboard but, long ago and far away, Leadbelly first plucked out the tune; and that made it all respectable. […]