But something has been missing from that landscape. The Britain I’ve known for the last fifty or sixty years has been shaped profoundly by migration, by struggle and resilience, by new voices and unseen contributions. And yet, much of this has gone unsung.

When the folk revival of the 1950s and ‘60s rekindled interest in rural ballads and heroic tales, it gave us a sense of our national heritage, but left out many of the stories that need to be heard. These songs aim to fill some of that space. They are, in a sense, modern folk songs—rooted in real lives and events, drawing on traditional forms, but bringing to light the richness and depth of more recent history.

Some songs speak of individuals—unsung heroes whose courage or quiet perseverance deserves recognition. Others reflect on communities that have built, shaped, and sustained Britain in ways that history books often overlook. This is not nostalgia, but tribute. Not a rewriting of the folk canon, but an expansion of it.

This collection of songs, and the stories behind them, is the result of a journey that spans over half a century of living in Britain, and one that traces my experiences of growing into a new culture and era. Arriving in London as a teenager, I found that some things were familiar whilst others seemed quite alien. Britain’s government, although welcoming immigrants to come and work and support the economy, was not always friendly to foreigners. There was Enoch Powell’s famous *Rivers of Blood* speech the week I arrived, and the dockers and meat market workers marching in support of the MP.

I got a job in a laboratory wringing chickens’ necks to make vaccines, and there a fellow school leaver assured me, *“Don’t worry—we’re not all like Enoch.”* He took me to a folk club in Bromley to prove the point. That opened up for me a whole new world of British folk music, which has long been the voice of communities, working people, wanderers, dreamers, and rebels. I’ve been hooked on the folk music form ever since, and it has influenced my singing and songwriting.

The making of this CD has been one of the most rewarding creative projects I’ve undertaken. It would not have happened without the support and insight of Boo Hewerdine, whose own songwriting has long inspired me. As a producer, Boo has brought immense sensitivity to this work. He encouraged me when I doubted, and helped shape these songs into something we could both be proud of.

Recording in Glasgow was another joy. It must be the folk musician’s capital of the world. Their generosity and craftsmanship gave the songs a life I could never have imagined on paper alone. Together, we tried to honour the folk tradition not by mimicking it, but by breathing into it new experiences, new stories, new voices. The gentle reggae beat of *My Face Don’t Fit*, the injection of Ivor Cutler’s ancient pedal organ in *Khan of the Wire*, the snare drums of *Sepoy’s Lament*—these were often spur-of-the-moment ideas that came in the Gloworm studios.

This book accompanies the CD not just as a lyric sheet, but as a deeper reflection on where each song comes from—what sparked it, whom it honours, and what it hopes to say. I invite you to listen, to read, and perhaps to recognise something familiar in these songs, even if the names and places are new to you.

Folk music is living music. These are living stories. Thank you for sharing in them.