Newport Folk Festival 2012 - NYTimes.com Rich Gastwirt A performance at the Newport Folk Festival. My last visit to the Newport Folk Festival was 10 years ago, when Bob Dylan made his long-awaited return, bringing a heavy dose of mystique and a fainter trace of closure. He hadn't played Newport since 1965 - the year Dylan Went Electric, as lore would have it, raising the stakes for rock "n" roll artistry and planting a stake in the heart of the folk revival. Of course the rift was never really that simple, and the reunion was no act of penitence. In 2002 Mr. Dylan showed up in a fake beard and a cowboy suit and, backed by his whip-smart band, played a proud, locomotive set. I'm returning to the Newport Folk Festival myself next month, and can't help thinking about what folk, as a term of commerce, can now be said to encompass. This isn't about some fault line between handmade, community-minded music on the one hand and professional, commercially minded music on the other. No, what intrigues me is the careful courting of an indie-rock aesthetic, which helped sell out this year's festival several months in advance, and which feels like a fait accompli. Among this year's notable acts are My Morning Jacket, Conor Oberst, Tune-Yards, Deer Tick and Iron & Wine: each distinct, but all compatible with an ethos of stringed instruments and wry sentiments. Alabama Shakes, the breakout roots-rock band of the moment, will be there; so will Gary Clark Jr., a sleek, young blues guitarist, and Sharon Van Etten, a haunted-sounding indie troubadour. Wilco will anchor a Friday night preview show with Blitzen Trapper and Megafaun. No one seems bothered by this. That's partly because these artists don't represent a true disruption: None of them come from hip-hop or punk or metal. Partly it's because they'll appear alongside blue-chip festival fare like the singer-songwriters Jackson Browne and Patty Griffin, and two projects tied to the centennial of Woody Guthrie's birth: the Guthrie Family Reunion (led by Arlo Guthrie) and New Multitudes (spearheaded by Jay Farrar). It all seems intended to adhere to a folky mood - earnest, communal and tasteful. According to recent custom, NPR will broadcast the festival and archive it online. I like the idea of preserving a core identity; I hate the idea of being trapped by it. By that token the Newport Folk Festival looks to be in excellent health, though you never know. I'm going to have to test that theory firsthand.