Anyone with an interest in folklore, folk traditions, hauntology, psychogeography and the landscape of the British Isles in general will soon come to realise that there is a vibrant community of musicians, artists and writers that share an interest in, and are actively producing work that explores those areas. As far as I’m aware there isn’t really an established name associated with the movement, scene, or whatever you may like to call it as yet, or if you do hear of one, it will probably be the Folk Revival. The problem with that name is that it’s been used many times before, with reference to older movements or scenes, not least for the boom in interest of traditional folk music that occurred during the 1950’s & 60’s. But this is a scene that is broader in scope, and on our ramblings through the various podcasts, musical recordings, blog posts, zines and books of this latest Folk Revival, we soon discover that, far from being a network of neat and direct interconnecting leylines, the journey is filled with rabbit holes and meandering channels that will lead us through this creative wonderland, linking one artist, zine or record to another. And whilst on our travels we will find that the same names and places will tend to crop up repeatedly, prominent figures and voices within the community who will appear and re-appear like a calmer, more trustworthy White Rabbit.
One such name is that of writer, broadcaster and recording artist, Justin Hopper, who some of you will have first been made aware via his excellent book, Old Weird Albion. Come to think of it, Old Weird Albion is a much better name for this scene than the Folk Revival, reminiscent as it is of the term New Weird Britain, coined by the Quietus several years ago to describe the fertile and progressive area of the UK music scene that was then finding new ways to interpret folklore and folk traditions in their music and performances. But, although undoubtedly connected, the groundswell of interest in these areas more recently feels broader in scope, yet more personal, more connected to the Old Ways, and the rediscovery of a version of the land and country that we live in that has been all but forgotten. As much as anything, our interest in such things is concerned with our own identity, and when we go walking – an activity that is at right the heart of the scene – it is as much about a journey of self-discovery and re-connection to the land and our lost past, as it is about exercise and getting our steps up. Old Weird Albion, published in 2017, is about exactly that; re-connection and self-discovery, through his wanderings through the Sussex Downs, and it contains a mystery within.
I won’t expand upon that further, as it is a book that I think everyone should read, but one character that does feature prominently in the story is the Long Man of Wilmington, a chalk figure over 200ft tall, carved into a hillside on the South Downs in Sussex, and this is where we find our first rabbit hole, which brings us to artist, photographer and writer, Rachel Poulton, and her zine entitled Unseen. Issue 3 focuses on the Long Man, or the Wilmington Giant as Rachel refers to it, and features a combination of her stunning photographs of the giant and his, or her, surrounding landscapes, all in black & white, which suits the subject matter perfectly, as monochrome always seem more atmospheric and mysterious than colour somehow. The photos are interspersed with some brilliantly evocative writing from Rachel herself and Samuel Reid, as well as an interview with author Philip Carr-Gomm, in which they discuss Druidry, and posit the idea that Sussex might be the most anarchic and rebellious of all the counties, with the strong sense of folk tradition in towns such as Lewes and Hastings, as well as it’s rich history of folk singers and collectors, including the Copper Family and Shirley Collins.
Sussex is certainly a county that features prominently in the scene. Jim Jupp of Ghost Box and Belbury Poly calls Sussex his home, as did his friend and sometime bandmate Justin Hopper at one time. Indeed, Jim Jupp has been a previous guest on Justin’s excellent podcast, Uncanny Landscapes, as has writer James Canton, and with that we take a diversion to another place that often makes an appearance when traversing the grassy slopes of Old Weird Albion; East Anglia. Jame’s book, Grounded, is itself another journey of self-discovery and re-connection, this time focusing on Suffolk, the place that James calls home – as does Justin Hopper these days. Both Suffolk and Norfolk are alive with folklore and myth, both old and more recent, ranging from the fearsome Black Shuck to the infamous Rendlesham Incident. Grounded, as the title suggests, focuses on the land, as opposed to folklore, although that is something that is frequently touched upon along the way. Another focus is the word ‘numinous’, which is defined as something divine, spiritual, and awe inspiring. In both the book and his ‘Uncanny Landscapes’ interview, James goes on to explain that by visiting numinous places, or places with a spiritual or religious significance, we can feel a connection to those who have experienced those same places in the past.
However, Grounded doesn’t stay rooted to Suffolk for long, journeying to numinous places across the land, and eventually we come full circle, to discover the Dagenham Idol, not a statue in the form of Borough legend Billy Bragg, but instead a carved wooden figure found in Marshland in 1922, a figure whose face seemed vaguely familiar…
And it is here that our journey through Old Weird Albion takes a major diversion, as we travel from East London to the pretty market town of Hexham, Northumberland. That’s exactly what the Dagenham Idol’s visage reminded me of; the Hexham Heads. Early in 2024, electronic musician and composer The Night Monitor treated us to his excellent album Horror Of The Hexham Heads, his own musical interpretation of the Hexham Heads legend, and released by the equally excellent Library Of The Occult label in April. When two young lads unearthed two small stone heads whilst playing in the front garden of a council house in Hexham one day in 1971, little could they know what horrors they were about to unleash upon the neighbourhood. When TV news magazine program Nationwide recounted the tale 3 years later, it fuelled the nightmares of any child unfortunate enough to have seen it for years to come, myself included. I, like many, had believed the footage of the report was thought to have been lost, until it was reported in The Fortean Times late in 2024 that it had made a re-appearance. And yes, thanks to some miraculous detective work, a huge slice of luck and some masterful editing, the whole report can now be seen on YouTube. Due to the audio of the first half of the report being lost many years ago, the opening 5 minutes are narrated using the reports’ original transcript, which was itself unearthed by chance only recently. Described in the Fortean Times piece as one of the lost gems of 1970’s weirdness, it’s a fascinating watch, particularly for anyone who remembers seeing the story when it was originally aired. Watching it again now, it is undoubtedly creepy, but it’s interesting how my memory of it has altered over the years, and it’s an example of how our memory can distort the truth: what at the time I had thought to have been actual footage of a wolf-man marauding through somebody’s house – and that had haunted me for years afterwards – was actually a second-long clip of Oliver Reed in werewolf make-up lifted from the Hammer Horror movie Curse Of The Werewolf.
And from the North East, via my own private hell, we move on to the bright, uplifting work of artist Sian Ellis, whose zine Tell The Bees featured the tale of The Hexham Heads in Issue 3. Sub-titled ‘A Catalogue of Bizarre Tales from Folklore, Fiction and History’, it’s a wonderfully illustrated and entertaining recounting of some well known and not so well known myths and legends from the world of folklore. The latest issue, Issue 6, focuses on folklore in film, and illustrates Sian’s knack for introducing the reader to tales less familiar and for shedding new light upon those that we already know. For example, whereas anyone with an interest in folklore and, more specifically, folk horror will be familiar with The Wicker Man and The Stone Tape, they may not be as familiar with the Japanese animation Spirited Away or the 2019 feature film ‘The Lighthouse’, the latter based on the true story of a Pembrokeshire lighthouse and it’s unfortunate keepers, Thomas Howell and Thomas Griffiths – a tale which was surely also the influence for a recent episode of the Greg Davis sitcom The Cleaner.
From South Wales we now travel back to East Anglia to look at, and listen to, the work of another prominent figure in this whole Old Weird Albion community, Laura Cannell. One of the most prolific artists and musicians to be operating in any genre at present, at the start of 2024 Laura embarked on a project with the ambitious aim of releasing an EP a month throughout the year, with each inspired by a different area of folklore, beginning with Sealore in January and ending with Winterlore in December. The EP’s have now been collected as The Year Of Lore, which, at present, is sadly only available as a download. But even if downloads aren’t for you, I would recommend you make an exception for this, as it is captivating from start to finish, and typical of Laura’s ability to create soundscapes that transport us away from reality whilst capturing the subject matter perfectly, with the epic, hypnotic and fittingly haunting The Ghost Who Cared Too Much being a classic example.
Sticking with the subject of music, we switch to another prominent fixture of the community, Weird Walk. It could be argued that without Weird Walk the current folk revival wouldn’t have gained anywhere near as much momentum as it has. The zine itself has been essential reading since Issue 1, and although music hasn’t always been a feature, it often gets a mention. But this year that has changed, firstly with the introduction of the Weird Walk Record Cult, billed as “an occasional series where we present limited editions of records we absolutely love and hope that you will too.” The first release of the series was Howl, by the Cornwall-based artist and musician Daisy Rickman. Released as a limited edition on gold vinyl, the album quickly sold out, as did the subsequent WW re-issue of her debut Donsya a’n Loryow, and that’s hardly surprising, because Daisy’s music is magical, a modern take on traditional folk music and influenced by the acid-folk sounds of the psychedelic era of the late 1960’s & early 70’s perhaps, but also imbued with a sense that her songs have been in the air for centuries. And if anyone is planning on making a documentary about the current folk revival, then look no further than Blue Morning as the track to accompany the closing credits.
Daisy also makes an appearance in the first issue of Peasant. The good people at Weird Walk had already issued a number of off-shoot zines, including Magic Circle, Ritual and Leyline, but 2024 also saw the introduction of a dedicated music zine, Peasant – Music From The Soil, to give it its full title. The title might suggest a focus purely on folk music, which is true to a large extent, but it also serves to broaden our horizons beyond just traditional folk, with issue one including features that posit Enya as the Godmother of Dungeon Synth, alongside an illuminating piece about the Black Metal/ Dungeon Synth influenced Curta’n Wall project.
Finally, and staying within the Weird Walk sphere, we come to another of the communities most prominent figures, artist and writer, Ben Edge. Another addition to the Weird Walk newsstand in 2024 was a zine entitled Folklore Activist: The Art of Ben Edge, a colourful publication which served to showcase the hugely ambitious project undertaken by Ben a few years ago, as well as acting as a taster and companion piece to his subsequent book Folklore Rising. A surreal and unexpected encounter with a Druidic parade in the heart of London served as an epiphany for Ben, inspiring him to discover more about both himself and the land in which he lives, and so he set about travelling the length and breadth of the country in order to do so. Charting a voyage of catharsis and self-discovery, Folklore Rising is an illuminating trip through some of the strange and colourful local folk customs and rituals of the British Isles, and without doubt it should be seen as a key publication for the movement as a whole. It is a hugely impressive tome, with Ben’s vibrant and contemporary artistic style creating modern day depictions of age old customs and landscapes that, when paired with his evocative and at times deeply personal written accounts, form a vibrant record that, for anyone interested in the scene, will resonate, inform and enlighten.
And on that high note, our latest round-up will end. I hope you get a chance to explore some of the links included here, and to discover more about the wonderful artists, writers, and musicians who get a mention, and we have really only scratched the surface. Whatever we choose to call this scene, community or movement, Folk Revival, Old Weird Albion, it doesn’t really matter, what matters is what we can gain from it; connecting to nature and the places we call home, as well as to our rich and varied histories. So, Folk-revivalists, Old Weirdos, Psycho-geographers, Hauntologists, Modern Antiquarians, Psychedelic Adventurers, Ramblers & Shamblers; whoever and wherever you are, and whatever you choose to call yourselves, continue to enjoy your explorations, and Keep Walking Weird.
