Well, as you're talking about ME, I'll dip in. As I don't wish to be accused of being an 'anonymous' guest, I'm posting this 'shit' under my real name.

".....and what is trotted out by floor singers is invariably the tune and arrangement of Nic Jones as recorded on Noah's Ark Trap and later, for obvious Celtic-related reasons, on Unearthed."

Not in 'my' performance of the song. I've never heard Nic Jones' version, but I'm told by those who have that 'my version' is very different from Nic's. In fact I've based what I do on the tune and arrangement which is used by Sharon Fountain, a Barnsley singer, guitarist and writer whom I admire very much indeed, both as a performer and as a human being. No doubt I'll now be accused of plagiarism, but guess what - as the woman says, "Am I bovvered?".

"It relates the consequences of patriarchal and oppressively offensive behaviour towards a woman."

Yep, that's exactly how I introduce it - my words may be more of the one-syllable variety (being a member of that sub-human sector known by the general term "men"), but the meaning is precisely the same.

"Or is it just a gang of backwoods Lincolnshire 'men', pissed and on the prowl after their club night out with George PapAvgeris?"

I was born, and still live in Lincolnshire. My day-job is as the accountant for the UK-division of a multi-national manufacturing company. My wife is a manager in the same company. I've never beaten her. I rejoice in her independence of thought and action, and she in mine. My wife is the at centre of my existence, and she's the best friend I have, or have ever had. I wear clothes which I buy new in well-known clothing stores. I drive a reasonably new German car. I frequently eat out at restaurants, holding my knife and fork in the correct hands and chewing with my mouth closed. I speak English and acceptably decent French (necessary, given the diverse locations of my employers' business, and the need to visit other locations). I read books by 'proper' writers, that don't have any pictures - lots of them (currently reading 'The Tenderness of Wolves'). I have travelled in the USA, Canada, France, Germany, The Netherlands, Sweden, Italy, Greece and her Islands, Egypt, I've spent time exploring the ecologically unique and beautiful St. Kilda archipelago (have you, dear Countess? Mmmm,
thought not!). I'm a lifelong part-time tall-ship sailor (now curtailed due to my recent protracted illness). I attended 'Faldingworth Live' last night, both as a performer and to hear George Papavgeris (as fine an example of a gentleman, in its true sense of 'gentle-man' as you could hope to meet) and the other performers. I don't drink alcohol. I took my son with me and, after the gig ended, we helped the PA guy and his wife to strip the gear down and load it in their car. We then loaded my gear in my car and drove home for Horlicks and bed.

If that makes me a "Backwoods Lincolnshire 'man' pissed and out on the prowl after our club night with GP", then I'd suggest that someone has a very closed-minded and bigotted view of the world.

"Unable, for obvious reasons, to pull the Fen women,"

Countess, your knowledge of traditional music is, no doubt, encyclopaedic. Your grasp of geography is, on the basis of your statement, clearly woefully deficient. Faldingworth is not in the Fens, nowhere near them. It lies in North Lincolnshire (that's towards the top of the map, provided you're holding it the right way up). The Fens are in the South of Lincolnshire (that's towards the bottom, or the top if you still haven't mastered the art of map-reading). It's a long way from Faldingworth to the Fens, a very long drive - most of us pissed-up Lincolnshire backwoodsmen would have run our cars into the ditch long before we got there (and that's assuming WE know which way up to hold the map).

"they're just having 'fun' with their computers"

Isn't that exactly what you're doing, Countess?

Sadly, Countess, your contribution to this thread has been very much devalued by your totally unwarranted vitriol towards any man who disagreed with you. You clearly have the intellect for reasoned discussion, and a great depth of knowledge on what is, presumably, your main (if not only) subject - why not stick a patch on, have a glass of Chardonnay, touch index-fingers and thumbs, take a deep breath and intone 'Aummmmm' until you gain whatever equilibrium you're capable of, then come back with reasoned and reasonable input, and offer some of the respect for others that you demand for yourself? That way, this thread, which started out as an interesting foray into the reasons for the demise (or otherwise) of the folk clubs, might just crawl out of the gutter and get back on track.

Thank you for taking the time and trouble to read this. I appreciate it very much, and hope (although vainly, I fear) that it will receive your reasoned consideration.

Good Day.