Reclaiming the term Albion back from the Libertines - whose concept of a mythical England was as much a male preserve as a Boys Own adventure - the matriarchs of folk old and new have joined together to investigate their magical past.

First witnessed at the Cork 2005 folk festival, Daughters of Albion dig deep into the role of women in traditional and modern English song. But host and earthy fiddle heroine Eliza Carthy quickly dispels any suspicion of folk feminism. "It's not gonna be 'all men are rubbish'," she points out.

This isn't about sisterhood, it's about family. In keeping with a style of music that's been passed down generations, Carthy's mum, Norma Waterson, sings seminal folk songs written by her sister, Lal. Guitarist Neill MacColl strums along to classics penned by his dad, maverick purist Ewan MacColl.

Then there's mum-to-be Kathryn Williams. "The band have all taken bets on whether my waters will break during the first or second half," she says, waddling towards a piano. Staying labour-free, she gives a stunning performance of Tradition, inspired by both her sister's wedding and the M62.

Williams is indicative of the diversity of these "daughters". June Tabor, whose rich voice casts a long shadow over her co-stars, gives a political context to her material. Lou Rhodes is in her element in the darkness of PJ Harvey's Down By the Water, but Vashti Bunyan, an inspirational figure for Devendra Banhart amongst others, is out of her depth, painfully nervous having spent the best part of 35 years out of the limelight.

Watching Carthy and Waterson dance together during Ain't No Sweet Man says more about the joy of folk than any song could. But it's Shelia Chandra who embodies the modern spirit of the ancient genre. She takes Tabor's Reynardine, adds gorgeous, Indian-hued emoting and changes the words. "I'm not into rape and werewolves," she explains.