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It was a drizzly night in Manchester, way back in the mists of Aunty Kitty, I was making my way to the for the Saturday night folk club there. I was playing support but had no idea who I was supporting. Jenks, the guy who ran the place, had phoned up the night before and, with an economy of speech found usually only in officers had said "Harding, you free tomorrow?" When I said I was, he said, "Five quid for two support spots. 7 o'clock."

I found myself arriving at the doors of the old Victorian building that housed the MSG just as a pulled up. Black and shiny with long etched glass windows to the rear of the driver, it was immaculate. Somebody must have snuffed it, I thought. But in the back was no coffin, just a guitar case and what looked like a hundredweight of carrots in a large string sack.

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Our showcase was on Friday evening (19th March) at the , right in the heart of Austin. The venue consisted of a large, seated, atmospheric space with sunshine streaming through the windows, making it very beautiful but also feel slightly like sitting in an enormous sauna, fully clothed. began the evening with a set packed full of ancient English tunes, clog and Dartmoor step dancing, which they had modernised with drums and bass (Laurel Swift and Matt Norman of Gadarene had spent a day up and down 6th Street to advertise the show). It felt particularly poignant when I thought of the contrast between watching Matt step dancing on the wagon at the Dartmoor Folk Festival in , to watching him dance to a room full of intrigued Texans.

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I am now on an aeroplane, wedged in between my band member Mike Cosgrave and a Texan version of the Fast Show's Bob Fleming ("that's got it") in the midst of an interminably long journey back to the UK following an amazing experience at Austin's festival.

I can't quite believe that it was only last night that I was sat in Joe's Crab Shack, a big U.S. restaurant chain slightly reminiscent of Pizza Hut, but with big hanging plastic sharks and the waft of crustaceans instead of pizza...

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I am currently sat in JFK airport, New York, waiting to board an internal flight to Chicago, and then onto Austin, Texas. Myself and band, alongside folk artists , , , David Owen, , and have had the good fortune to become parts of the '' showcases.

Supported by Arts Council England, managed by British Underground, held at the Webster Hall, New York and in Austin, Texas, the showcases are the brainchild of fRoots magazine's Ian Anderson and are aimed at demonstrating the wave of current young acts taking the English folk tradition forward.

Having spent a tense few weeks working through visa documents and logistics, we arrived in New York late on Monday evening. There followed a whirlwind of sight-seeing and ambience-soaking before our first gig on Tuesday.

Having spent the morning walking through Central Park and Times Square, myself and band arrived at the to see our name emblazoned in lights outside. A first!

The showcase that night was compered by The Magpie's Nest folk club's own Sam Lee.

It was a strange but wonderfully diverse night. To be stood watching artists, many of whom I have known for years and whose music I feel such affinity with, as if we were all at a festival or folk club, yet in an alien city across the Atlantic, was an amazing experience.

And it seemed that the gig connected with the audience; after my set I found myself talking to people who had been to Devon on holidays when they were children, or who said that the music was unlike anything they had heard in the city, and made them feel drawn to the warmth and intimacy of these English songs and tales.

This morning, Jim and I went on a pilgrimage, across the city to Jonas Street, 4th Avenue West, to recreate .

Next stop, !

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I'm writing this on the last day of a visit to the USA and writing it - what's more - in a bit of a state of shock.

I was at a children's party the other day in a room full of 5-7 year old children and a good time was had by all; plenty of running round and games like Pass the Parcel and Musical Statues. Lots of good fun.

What shocked me was that during one of the games, the children were asked to sing a nursery rhyme, and they didn't know one single song all the way through!

They could all tell me that the song played during Pass the Parcel was by Lady Gaga, but not one of them could sing something simple all the way through.

One or two of them managed half a verse of but that was it!

I have to say that my own two grandsons managed better - largely because I sing lots of songs with them including a naughty one about three black cats coming knocking on the door.

But for a generation of American (and I suspect British) children, the nursery rhyme seems to be a thing of the past. So why should we care? Well, setting aside cultural identity, the very act of remembering rhyme and rhythm helps with brain patterning.

If you care at all about your child's brain development, instead of sitting him or her in front of the goggle box, spend some time singing to them and teaching them all the old rhymes and songs, if only for the selfish reason that it will help them learn and think.

I have a terrifying image of a world ahead of us where the only songs kids know are those pumped at them by the music industry and where the only relationships they make will be on Facebook or some other social networking site and where the only sport they play will be on Wii or whatever it's called.

A nightmare vision that even Orwell or Huxley couldn't have forseen. AAAAAARGH! Pass me the Humpty Dumpty and the Wee Willy Winky, quick!

I went into a popular music and book store near where I'm staying just outside Washington DC the other day and made my way, as I usually do, to the CD section.

I come here regularly to check on what's new on the American folk scene.

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I am in America at the moment and have just I heard of the death from pneumonia of folk singer, actor and presenter . He passed away on 4th March. I was deeply shocked, as I suspect many were.

At 67, Fred died far too young.

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David Owen is a graphic artist based in Whitby, North Yorkshire. Much of his highly original work has been based on traditional music themes, often juxtaposing folk song characters or established folk symbols with pop culture images and styles.

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Me and Rachel have been having a wonderful time recently partly because we've been involved in an ongoing project called '' with Charles Hazlewood.  Charles' enthusiasm and energy is quite astounding and it really rubs off; we too have fallen in love with these sometimes beautiful and sometimes hilarious songs from The Beggar's Opera. 1728 folk opera was a satire against the class system, corruption and the musical establishment. The great British folk tunes he employed have largely disappeared from our culture, and along with Adrian Utley () and a few others we've been exploring how to reinvent them.

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