"The best songwriter in the world"

I’ve often joked to audiences that Folkroom gigs are wholly for my own enjoyment. That everybody in the room is very welcome to sit and appreciate the music, but should be under no illusion: I have booked each act on the bill because I want to see them play, and if anyone else enjoys it, then that’s just an added bonus.

This isn’t entirely true, though. Don’t get me wrong - it is roughly 80% accurate, but there always remains a significant part of me that wants to share the music I love with anyone I can - be that friends, strangers, or whoever happens to be working the bar that night.

It can be all too easy, as a promoter, to only book artists that you know will sell. As an independent promoter, I’m all too aware that a loss for Folkroom is a loss for me. I’m sure there’s an interesting graph to be made that charts Folkroom gig sales alongside periods of unusually high chicken liver consumption. When I’m feeling poor, I always turn to offal, like one of the less appealing Dickens characters.

The real joy in promoting, though, always comes when you get to show off a musician that you know the audience wouldn’t otherwise get to see. They’re the harder sell - but then, I suppose, this is why someone does this job in the first place. To promote, rather than amplify. It’s one thing to put on a gig with a well-loved artist - it’s another thing entirely to watch that love for the musician grow in real time across the course of the set. And with that in mind…

Meet Nev Clay.

I was first introduced to Nev - the idea of Nev, not even the actual music - back in July, when I hosted Joshua Burnside for a gig. Joshua and his band had played Newcastle the night before, and as we shared our pre-show meal, conversation turned to a cult figure whom they themselves had only come across 24 hours earlier.

Nev Clay, they told me, is one of those great hidden secrets of the British music scene. He released three albums around the turn of the millennium, and then waited two decades to put out his fourth, 2024’s aptly-titled So Little Happened For So Long. According to the legend, as passed down by Joshua Burnside, Nev had spent the time between records quietly playing the local music scene and building up a devoted following that included Marc Riley, Mercury Prize nominee Kathryn Williams, and the artist currently known as Rich(ard) Dawson.1

I was fascinated by this image of an artist’s artist, quietly going about his work and earning respect in a relatively small pocket of the British Isles. Upon arriving home from the gig, I immediately undertook my own personal education in the music of Nev Clay. Within the first three songs of So Little Happened For So Long, I had ordered the album on vinyl. By the time I had finished ‘Lanyard’, a deceptively chipper song about people who wear their lanyards outside their place of work, I had emailed Nev asking him to play Folkroom.

In the prison where I worked we couldn’t wear them - too much of a hostage taking risk
But she looks happy to wear her lanyard, looking like an X-Factor finalist

During that twenty-year gap, Nev tells me he actually attempted to make several other records. He recorded an album with Kathryn Williams, but it was lost when her laptop crashed. A year or so later, a kitten knocked a drink over another laptop, this time wiping out a solo record. For a long while, Nev’s releases were limited to a smattering of home recordings on Bandcamp, and a collaborative record made with poet Ally May, avant-garde noise collective Jazzfinger, and that other notable singer-songwriter from the North East, Richard Dawson.

Dawson’s name comes up a lot when people talk about Nev Clay, not least because the former is an effusive champion of his friend. In a Reddit AMA, Dawson described Nev as ‘the best songwriter in the world’. In Q Magazine, he repeated the claim, citing Nev as a Newcastle legend: ‘He’s got the melodies, the lyrics, the heart. To top it off, he’s one of the loveliest men you could hope to meet.’

The pair also have a similar approach to songwriting, their lyrics finding truth in specificity rather than sweeping generalisations. Nev credits this in part to the lyrics of Mark E Smith of The Fall, who taught him that you can include anything in a song, from lorry drivers to Curly Wurlies.

Here at the laser clinic, we see a lot of these tattoos -
Andy Cole in black and white, before he moved on to Man U

I cannot remember the last time a songwriter’s lyrics felt so honest and relatable to me - no mean feat, given I was born and raised on the south coast, while Nev’s songs are rich with evocative images from the North East. Nowhere does this manifest more clearly than in ‘Cuddy’s Cave’, a song that first began fomenting in the late 1990s. It appeared in an early form on a St James Infirmary album in 2013, with Rich Dawson on guitar. Nev’s Bandcamp describes the recording on So Little Happened as ‘version 23’. He tells me that it continues to evolve, with versions specifically written for Byker, North Shields and Sunderland. On the surface, ‘Cuddy’s Cave’ is little more than hyper-specific references to the North East, listed in juxtaposed rhyming couplets. And yet the song itself somehow transcends this entirely - it is funny, it is warmly nostalgic without being rosy-eyed, and it is deeply, deeply moving.

Saxon monks, the smell of skunk, super-strong weed, the Venerable Bede
the great Northumbrian coastal plain to Bargain Booze in Percy Main

I’ve spent the past four months listening through Nev’s back catalogue - and to his new music, which continues to pop up on Bandcamp occasionally. But it’s So Little Happened For So Long that has fully captured my heart. It’s the sort of record that makes someone excited to be a promoter. That email to Nev has resulted not only in a wonderful correspondence but also in a rare musical excursion beyond his usual venues. Nev Clay plays Folkroom at The Grove in Nottingham on January 23rd. I’ve booked two of my favourite Nottingham lyricists, Catmilk and Peter Hall, for support. You can buy your tickets here. I hope you’ll join me, and discover Nev’s music for yourself. But honestly - truly - I booked this gig solely for my own enjoyment, and anything you get out of it is just a bonus.

It’s a shame that Nev’s last album came out in 2024, because that leaves it out of the running for Folkroom’s Best of 2025 retrospective.

It’s been a wonderful year for new music, and I’ve asked some of Folkroom’s nearest and dearest to nominate their favourite records of the last year. Katie Carroll, our long-time London host, loved Drive to Goldenhammer by Divorce. I didn’t ask her to name this record - featuring former Folkroom regular Felix as co-lead singer, and tied closely to the Nottingham music scene - but the band’s songwriting is irresistible, and opening track ‘Antarctica’ has fast become one of Katie’s all-time favourite songs.

Angie Rance from Patch & the Giant - who released their own fantastic album, Fragments, on Folkroom Records this year - opted for Teeth of Time by Nev Clay evangelist Joshua Burnside. The record is a gorgeous thing that draws on trad folk sounds but delivers searing lyricism. Check out ‘Marching Round The Ladies’ for one of the year’s most satisfying musical moments.

Sam Falle of Winterfalle, who have been working on a follow-up to their 2023 Folkroom release Out of the Sea, couldn’t narrow his choices down. His votes were split evenly between caroline 2 by caroline and SABLE, fABLE by Bon Iver. Both of which are just nightmares to type in a newsletter. A new Bon Iver record is always welcome, though, and ‘Everything Is Peaceful Love’ is among the best songs Justin Vernon has yet released.

As for me? I’ve been absolutely enamoured with Jens Lekman’s ambitious Songs for Other People’s Weddings since the day it came out. It’s a return to the heights of Night Falls Over Kortedala, and has some of the most unexpectedly fun moments of any record out this year. Maya Delilah had me similarly smitten with The Long Way Round, a jazzy pop record with deeply satisfying guitar solos that appear to have dredged up from the dawn of the 1990s.

Elsewhere, Folkroom’s old friend Sophie Jamieson treated us to a brace of releases via her current label, Bella Union. I still want to share was teased last year with the breathtaking ‘I don’t know what to save’. My doctor wants to talk to Sophie about the way that the song’s sweeping climax keeps stopping my heart dead in its tracks. As if that wasn’t enough, Sophie dropped her new three track Stitch EP on Halloween. Much to my dismay, it was not a concept record about Disney’s alien agent of chaos.

Finally, Chloe Foy released Complete Fool, an album that feels like the midway point between Katherine Priddy and Laura Marling. It’s an absolute delight, and I was thrilled when it came out, because I’d already booked her for the first Folkroom gig of 2026. Come and discover Chloe’s beautiful music on January 11th, when she plays Peggy’s Skylight for us. Our support for the evening, Lily Clarkson, released a gorgeous record of her own back in August - We Speak in Ancient Languages. I’m sure both will be available at the merch stand on the night! Buy your tickets here.

Almost a decade ago now, my friend Sam Schafer asked me a question: What was the gender split at Folkroom events that year? It wasn’t intended as a trap - Sam was just curious - but it is a question that not enough promoters ask of themselves, and I was grateful for the chance to reflect. We’ve all been to gigs where there isn’t a woman to be seen in a line-up of three or four acts. In the years since, I’ve made a conscious effort to pay attention to the artists I host at Folkroom gigs, and I try to make sure our line-ups reflect the fantastic diversity that the scene has to offer. I also make an annual effort to openly share the gender split, in order to keep myself accountable - not just to Sam, but to the audiences and artists who make Folkroom what it is.

In 2025, Folkroom hosted a total of 51 artists. 26 were fronted by women; 25 by men. That’s 51% and 49% respectively - a small change from last year’s 56% of women-led artists. It’s important to note that while I count trans women as women and trans men as men, no acts were led by trans or non-binary artists this year. If you are a folk musician who identifies as either, I’d love to hear from you.

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Our first four gigs in 2026 are all on sale now, but believe me when I say that I am working on some very exciting projects for next year, including potential events across London and Brighton, as well as our regular Nottingham nights. For now, here’s what you can book with us in 2026:

January 11th - Chloe Foy and Lily Clarkson (Peggy’s Skylight, Nottingham)

January 23rd - Nev Clay, Catmilk and Peter Hall (The Grove, Nottingham)

February 8th - Steve Tilston (Peggy’s Skylight, Nottingham)

February 28th - Filkin’s Drift and Dan Chapman (The Grove, Nottingham)

That’s a wrap on Folkroom in 2025, though! Thank you for coming to gigs, buying records, and reading Modern Folk. I hope to see you all at a Folkroom event in 2026!

Stephen