Purbeck Valley has a new venue this year, a farm near Corfe Castle of the same name, a much more spacious feel and a much improved main barn stage.

There was a mud, of course, but dire weather warnings proved a little inaccurate, although Saturday’s heavy rain did dampen things for a while.

The music was fantastic in its sheer variety and the encouragement obviously shown to young musicians gaining a foothold on the folky ladder.

And, if it is not too much of a contradiction, it is a folk festival not entirely consumed by folk. Of course, all music has folk roots, but here was plenty of blues, bluegrass, soul, rock and comedy – with nary a finger in the ear to be seen.

There was plenty of action outside the main stages – workshops, open mic sessions, children’s activities, films, poetry, healing and dancing.

The festival is finding its feet on the new site and undoubtedly will make some amendments for next year – a big marquee on the main field, possibly.

Friday

Head and shoulders above the rest of the bill was British folk godfather Richard Thompson, now 66, appearing solo with just an acoustic guitar.

In a chipper 70-minute set of hits, favourites and the odd new song, he extracted astounding sounds from said instrument. Anyone learning the trade simply must see this man play 1952 Vincent Black Lightning, Valerie, Bright Lights, Stony Ground or tragic Sandy Denny's Fairport classic Who Knows Where The Time Goes. Then give up.

Multi-instrumentalist Philip Henry would improve any band. Here at Purbeck with Hannah Martin in their new band Watershed's second gig, he beatboxed and slid across his dobro with aplomb.

Ethereal, breathy and sparky Martha Tilston followed esteemed folk stalwart father Steve on the bill and the Wareham Whalers were as irrepressible as ever.

The outdoor Fire Stage is less intimate than previously, but more people could see the likes of Djambo's world rhythms

Saturday

A day to set up camp in the barn and await the rain, which arrived fairly soon.

A great innovation at Purbeck is the Songwriters' Circle, four protagonists on stage chatting about their craft and singing a few tunes. This year was Squeeze’s Chris Difford, Justin Currie of Del Amitri and the duo of Paul Simmonds and Naomi Bedford telling tales out of school and revealing secrets.

The day’s highlight proved to be the Middlesbrough husband and wife duo Stu and Debbie Hanna, trading as Megson and performing their own excellent songs. The former punk turned top producer and the classically trained soprano are on the verge of stardom, judging by this set of songs about miners, memories and football.

The quirky Bookshop Band are commissioned by a Mr B’s Emporium of Reading Delights bookshop in Bath to write songs about novels, which they do with aplomb.

To escape the ceilidh (I’m not that ensconced in the folk world) festival veterans Krista Green and the Bees’s upbeat set of standards and originals was ideal. The Bournemouth twentysoemthing’s infectious poppy tunes even got people dancing.

If you want Northumbrian pipes, you turn to none other than the flame-haired Kathryn Tickell, here with her folk-classical ensemble The Side providing a hour of magical sounds performed by experts.

Squeeze stalwart Chris Difford came out of his shell for his solo spot. Wryly self-deprecating tales of life on the road, Top of the Pops, 60 tours of America and views on his bandmates were interspersed with a chance to hear his versions of classics Up The Junction, Take Me I’m Yours and his Cowboys Are My Weakness which k d lang didn’t want to record, thank you very much. We were, of course, awaiting Cool For Cats, which rousingly came at the end.

Headliner Justin Currie, on the other hand, seemed less talkative than before as he ploughed through his solo material. Solid stuff, but he could have chucked in more Del Amitri as it was a festival set.

Sunday

The day dawned bright, the rain was holding off and numerous bales of straw were making getting about a little easier as Dorset folk stalwart Rod Jenkins, with an impressive nine-piece band, kicked off the day’s proceedings in the Long Barn by demonstrating that he was still at the top of his game.

The Fire Tent slope, now a bit muddy but well strawed, was packed as Dorset's Wikkaman quintet, fronted by the irrepressible ‘Mickey Byron’, sang tales of county landmarks and legends in a vaudeville style. Their Wessex Tales of Bridport noose makers, Church Ope Cove and, Moonfleet are deliciously dark and delivered with gusto and humour.

The duo of Naomi Bedford and collaborator Paul Simmonds (of The Men They Couldn’t Hang fame) provided beautifully composed and dreamily sung tales of love and death.

Connecticut four-piece combo Caravan of Thieves mixed and mashed classics into their own gypsy jazz rhythmic style.

The American theme continued in the Big Barn with the incredible bluegrass playing of Hot Rize on the band’s very limited UK tour. It was a real coup for the festival to secure the besuited quartet, formed in 1978, retired in 1990 and recently returned to live work.

All stunningly good musicians, they play in the traditional bluegrass style with instruments into mics and singing into one microphone. Guitarist Bryan Sutton wins the fastest fingers of the weekend award.

They transform into Red Knuckles and the Trailblazers for a while halfway through the set, appearing in cowboy costume and singing hilarious western songs.

Hampshire youngster Aimee Mackenzie - still full of potential, writing her own material and still playing as a trio with younger siblings Freya (violin) and Ross (cajon) and still transported to gigs by mum and dad – deserves to be bigger.

The Carravick Sisters may have come across as a bit worthy before, but in the four-piece Cardboard Fox, Laura and Charlotte have added double bass and mandolin for an excellent set of folky, foot-tapping bluegrass-inspired tunes.

Art folk band The Moulettes livened up the evening with the heaviest set of the weekend before headliners Stornoway weaved their magic and the effervescent party band Coco and the Butterfields brought the barn down with their usual vigour.