To Cambridge, for its restorative annual showcase of ancient songs about death and despair. This year's lineup is a curious one, lacking some of the scene's up-and-coming stars, such as Jackie Oates, Sam Lee and Jim Moray, although the latter hosts a packed Saturday night silent ceilidh, where dancers can dosey-doe to traditional songs or modern pop played through headphones. The weekend's best band are delightfully unconventional: O'Hooley and Tidow, aka pianist/accordionist Belinda and her civil partner Heidi, bring their stunning, pared-down sound to the Club Tent, and also fill it with laughter. "She was a bit of a one," O'Hooley hams before Gentleman Jack, a song about a 19th-century lesbian landowner; the crowd sing along lustily.

The Unthanks impress, too, with the Brighouse and Rastrick Brass Band. Doughty tubas give Blue Bleezin' Blind Drunk new emotional heft, while guitarist Chris Price turns jazz crooner for a horn-heavy reupholster of English ballad Queen of Hearts. Other stirring vocal performances include Roy Harper's saucy romp through Highway Blues, and the Proclaimers unleashing Letter to America, 25 years after it was a top-10 hit.

Sunday brings both a sudden storm and Watford sisters the Staves – the prettiness of their voices calls for darker, deeper accompaniments. Elsewhere, Seth Lakeman is on high-octane fiddling form, while the Moulettes sing about bloodshed in the woodshed, brilliantly, at the Den. Angélique Kidjo is even better, proclaiming Mama Africa as she sings and dances through the crowd – and brings some fans back on stage with her. But folk legend Nic Jones is Sunday night's highlight. On his first short tour since the 1982 car crash that saw him in intensive care for eight months he can no longer play guitar, but his son Joe does, and beautifully. Playing drinking-and-dancing song Barrack Street together, you hear the fissures in the father's voice clearly, but also folk's power to tell stories simply and stunningly.