Different folk: A new marketing vibe for the Phila. Folk Festival

On a recent afternoon, Gene Shay, the face of the Philadelphia Folk Festival, peered through the rear window of a restaurant near Rittenhouse Square and looked half a century into the past.

This, Shay explained to a visitor, had been the back room of Ed and Esther Halpern's Gilded Cage coffeehouse, legendary epicenter of the Philly folk scene. It was in this room that much of the planning for the first folk fest took place.

And it was here that the seeds of the all-volunteer "Straw Hat Brigade," the people who made the festival go, were planted, Shay said. From directing traffic to building the stage to managing the finances, the festival would rely on volunteers.

The Gilded Cage is gone, and so, too, is a key part of the "volunteers only" identity. Since 2008, the festival has had a professional executive director and a marketing mentality that will be reflected in the 49th edition, which takes place Friday through Sunday at the Old Pool Farm in Schwenksville.

In 2008, the festival's parent organization, the Philadelphia Folk Song Society, hired 28-year-old Levi Landis to be executive director. That same year, 38-year-old Jesse Lundy was brought in to book acts through Point Entertainment.

Folk Song Society board members decided that professional help would be needed in a fiercely competitive and depressed market.

"We weren't sophisticated enough and we didn't have the expertise in certain areas - promotion, graphics, computers, viral advertising - and we needed help," Shay explains.

Landis holds a master's degree in public administration from Villanova University and speaks the laconic language of folk, with a not-for-profit accent.

"For many of the constituents, there was a real concern of 'Are we gonna lose this?' " Landis said. "The financial aspect of it couldn't be denied; it was public knowledge."

Campground rumors of the festival's imminent demise recurred like summer zucchini. Landis said the situation was not nearly as desperate as some believed; he thinks the real angst was over who would become the new flag- bearers. The old guard was starting to have trouble negotiating the steep hill at Old Pool Farm.

"We convinced everybody that this is a necessary evil - and it really isn't evil at all," said Shay. "That wasn't taken kindly by some of the old-timers who've been proud for years that this was all done by volunteers."

While the festival was run by volunteers, performers do get paid (even Shay draws a fee when he's onstage).