Actually, it was Big Bill Broonzy who first trotted out that !#%&@$# horse (source: Pete Seeger. If you think otherwise, take it up with him).

The Oisin quote is very poetic and I like it, but I'm afraid it doesn't quite do the job, as can be seen by the number of posts from people who don't find it totally satisfying. Nice try, though.

This is one of the reasons I avoid referring to myself as a "folk singer." Most of the songs I like to sing are folk songs. How do I know they're folk songs? Because they come with a Child number attached, or I got them out of a book of songs compiled by Lomax or Sharp, or off of a record or CD by someone who tells me in the liner notes that it's a folk song and I have good reason to believe that he or she didn't write it just last week or it didn't come from a Broadway musical. But I don't limit myself just to songs that, in my readily admitted fuzzy opinion, are folk songs, I also sing a number of songs that most people (unless they're horse lovers) would agree are not folk songs. Nor do I try to adopt a "folksy" style, I just open my yap and sing it (whatever it is) the best I can.

I take a leaf from Richard Dyer-Bennet's book: he said that he doesn't consider himself to be a "folk singer." He regarded himself as being in the tradition of the minstrels and troubadours, self-accompanied singers who made their living as professional entertainers.

I have essentially given up trying to define "folk music" because in this modern world of fast travel and mass communication, the term "folk" (the rural peasant class) is no longer as clear-cut as it once was. When the lexicographers finally clear this up (if ever), I may give it another shot. Until then, for those who insist on trying to define "folk music," I think there should be a good 12-step program. . . .

Don Firth