Not so much solipsism a humble little gathering where the old songs are sung with quiet humility. I always think of it as a seance in a dirty back room where roofs can be raised on the choruses, but not at the expense of a basic sort of dignity that precludes anything so much as resembling stage-craft. There is no stage and there is no audience; just a gathering of erudite enthusiasts whose craft is a humble reverence to the old singers and the songs they sung.