Peggy Seeger tells a story about her older brother Pete choosing songs everybody knows so that if his memory fails him, it'll be OK: the audience will sing for him.

She may be 77, but the woman who inspired Ewan MacColl to write The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face doesn't need to tread so carefully with her repertoire.

She has everyone singing from the start, because creating a sense of community through song is second nature to her, but over the next two hours she covers a range of subjects, through songs, anecdotes and poems, that demand a listening as much as a participating audience.

She really is a brilliant communicator. She'll move from a playground song to an excoriating attack on the banking industry with conversational ease, call up a heavyweight traditional ballad and follow that with another complete change of mood. And every song will have a reason to be sung, explained with humour, outrage or exasperation to suit.

A particularly affecting section sung at the piano, after banjo, guitar and autoharp had been pressed into impressively effective service, found her reminiscing movingly but also quite matter of factly about her mother and revealing still very keen songwriting skills, on Memory Song, as well as an easy familiarity with the classical pieces her mother taught her.

Then she'll play the concertina ("not very well") and a fretless banjo and demonstrate how out-of-tune she is. Not that such limitations matter much.

The songs and Seeger's whip-smart personality shine through until, without fuss, she's done: a genuine legend of the folk scene living up to her reputation.

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