The dark-hued bird of prey, master of non sequiturs and horny-handed, son-of-toil, heavy engineering shop steward (how many of THOSE did I have to swat down and have for breakfast when reporting from union conferences and the TUC?) assumes (wrongly as it happens) that I don't know who these 'oop north' types are that he played with once in a session and thus, furthermore, don't understand his offensively patronising, sexist 'world'.

News for him: it's a bygone world, as out-of-date as the cliquey 'f*lk club' in the filthy pub back room attended by a handful of bearded, sandalled old blokes/esses in tie-dyed frocks with tankards who disapprove of being anywhere near in tune or of parting with money to pay professionals. I didn't 'forget about' this type of audience but wish I could.

The 'audience' is not, however, my concern but it ought to be that of the organiser. If you take on event organisation, whether professionally or not, it is your responsibility to get the bums on seats and to treat artists with respect and pay them the rate for the job.. This means providing an up-to-scratch venue and charging a price which reflects the quality of what's on offer; not simply a matter of covering costs but of not undervaluing the artists. And not to give Kim Howells (and thence Steve Knightley) the excuse to perpetuate the image of 'three folk singers in a pub in Wells'.

My passion is English (mostly) trad music and dance and my concern is the viability of those who perform it. Your minor hobby is going down to the blokes' pub (with blokes}, bashing out a chord or two (any will do) and spending as little as possible while slagging off anyone or anything of which you don't approve or understand. Because of course, in your eyes, being a musician isn't a 'proper job', is it?