"I don't think there really has been a revival in the interest in folk music, any more than there usually is," says Staffordshire-born singer, arranger and producer Jim Moray.

"I think in the last couple of years people have got bored of that being talked to en masse, and they want music that sounds a bit more intimate or personal to them.

"I think it's a good thing that people are open-minded to things, but it's a cycle that comes round every couple of years and it's just the way it is."

Having recently released his selftitled second album to widespread acclaim, Moray is well-acquainted with the finer points of the folk music scene. It's no surprise, given that his upbringing was steeped in the influence of traditional music and storytelling.

"My mum and dad met at a folk club and were quite folky in that way. I was exposed to it a lot, and my mum and dad's record collection is mostly that kind of stuff. We always went to folk festivals and folk clubs when me and my sister were younger, but it was never something that was forced on us; it's just what you did.

"There was never a big point of being indoctrinated into folk music; it was just music that was around me when I was growing up. That's probably where my approach to it comes from now because I never had it beaten into me, I had a gap and went off and played in bands, and when I came back to it I could understand it on my own terms."

Not so much reinventing folk music, but rather re-telling the traditional stories that have passed down by generations, Moray has made a name for himself by using modern technology and ambitious arrangements to craft new interpretations of those standards.

Recalling the majesty of such disparate acts as Richard Thompson, Kate Bush and Rufus Wainwright, his debut album - 2003's Sweet England - was made in his bedroom, proving that the idea of home-made revolutions isn't necessarily confined to hip hop and grime circles.

"I'm as happy as I ever am with these things. I don't know whether I'm a perfectionist, and I don't try to over-stretch myself, but push it as far as I can with each record. It's certainly not within a safe zone; either of those records. How it differs is I'm another three years moved on, and it's as far as I can push it this time.

"I think there is quite a lot of growth between them, but it's still the same premise though. I've got better at doing it since the first one, because the first one was made in my bedroom and I played everything on it, so it was all a bit of an experiment. This was exactly the same, but it was done having already done that first experiment."

For Moray, it's fitting that he's now updating the folk sounds that doubtlessly shaped his childhood. Indeed, he's not surprised by how easily traditional songs and modern technology sit next to each other, proving to be decidedly compatible.

"It wasn't ever a conscious decision; it just seemed like a natural thing to do. I don't think it's necessarily combining two disparate things. Traditional music isn't something that's old-fashioned and arcane; it does have a connection with the past but it also has a connection with the future. It's an on-going thing that's moving on all the time.

"They're songs that spoke to me or that I had a connection with, played in a way that would excite me.

"The reason that they've stood the test of time is because they're not songs that have, for most of their life, been written down. They were passed on by oral transmission, by someone singing it and someone else remembering it. They'd be long forgotten if they didn't have some kind of universal appeal.

"People still are born and die, fall in love and kill each other, and also there's a certain amount of escapism in there as well. A lot of things are about fantastical subjects, and the appeal of that doesn't go away."

Moray, who studied composition at Birmingham's Conservatoire, includes Morrissey and June Tabor among his heroes, along with guitarists Johnny Marr, Graham Coxon and Bernard Butler.

It perhaps explains his decision to move from his place behind the drum-kit and instead switch to playing guitar, and also his desire to do things his own way.

"I was sick of other people in a way, so I started doing this on my own and it's kind of grown to this point. I think the main thing is there's never been any deliberate plan, I've always fallen into something, which is the best way to be."