"I probably listen to Harry Cox, Walter Pardon, Cyril Poacher and others of a similar era than anything else at the moment, but even though I spend more and more time listening to them, I don't feel comfortable trying to sing like them."
In the end the aim should be to sing like nobody but yourself - surely.
Sure, the Kennedy (et-al) recordings have some examples of bad singing, they were made when our singing tradition was in terminal decline, so they are bound to.   They also have some of the best singing of traditional songs you are ever likely to hear.
I don't want to sound like a singer who is past his prime and, because of age, no longer has enough breath control to hold a long line. On the other hand, nor do I want to incorporate Peter Bellamy's "Larry-the-Lamb" impersonations (his own description) into my singing, or some of the idiosyncratic phrasing, or the peculiar vocal gymnasitics, or the extremely intrusive accompaniment techniques that I hear regularly from some of our folk 'superstars'.
If I had to choose - and I don't - give me Phil Tanner any day; an old man sounding like a youngster going out looking for his oats, as he does when he sings Banks of Sweet Primroses. Or the seething anger of Harry Cox when he sings about a young man transported to the other side of the world for trying to feed his family. Or Sam Larner, whose health was ruined by dragging soaking wet nets over the side of the boat, yet still managed to make his songs sound as if he was singing them for the first time. Or the quiet, assured understanding of Walter Pardon who made every song he sang sound like a personal experience.
There are some spectacular examples of technique among the old recordings, not so much in England, but certainly among the Irish and Scots singers, but I believe it's something more intangible you are looking for when you listen to other singers to learn from them - and it is this that you can't put a price on.
Jim Carroll