few years back, the name Jumma Khan wouldn't have meant much to the villagers of Pinan in Alwar. Perceived as low caste, and living on the outskirts of a small township, this musician and poet would not have had any sway. But here at Jodhpur's famous clock tower, at the opening concert of the Rajasthan International Folk Festival (RIFF), five thousand people are hanging on to his every word. His poetry is hilarious and his delivery charismatic; the entire audience burst into laughter and applause at every pithy punchline. Foreign visitors, Delhi-ites, Bombayites and Jodhpur locals alike sing along to the catchy chorus lines they've just heard. Jumma's performance epitomises the excitement of this relatively new festival, which takes place yearly under the brightest full moon of the year, Sharad Poornima.

This year, this sense of the one-off was best exemplified by the RIFF Rustle, curated by UK-based beat-boxer Jason Singh. The organisers attempt it every year: gathering the 'best of' the festival performers onto stage at the end of the festival, switching on the sound and seeing what happens. Up until now these had been awkward affairs, either dominated by a single artist, or falling flat as each performer hung back for the other.

Under Jason's exuberant orchestration, the evening was electrifying. Rupa of gypsy-world collective 'Rupa and the April Fishes' jammed alongside classically-trained Maand singer Parveen Kawa; dholak player Kutle Khan exchanged beats with funky Brazil-based DJ Maga Bo; morchang, trumpet, cello, voice and guitar seamlessly followed each other through five totally improvised tracks. Less successful was the Yuri Honing jazz 'collaboration' with folk artists Sumitra Goswami and Daya Ram Bhatt. Individually exceptional, their combined effort was a cacophony that fell far short of the sum of the two parts. I made a swift exit and bought myself a reasonably-priced drink from the unreasonably ostentatious Taj bar – the only eye-sore in the otherwise stunning location.

The Mehrangarh Fort stands high up on a rock, towering above Jodhpur city. It glows at night, from lit up palatial rooms within and flood lighting from without on its magnificent walls. Evening performances here are stunning outdoor affairs, so beautiful that the full moon rises up behind the main stage and peeps over the ramparts each evening to witness the confluence of music and happy listeners.

The festival is organised jointly by the Jaipur Virasat Foundation, love child of John and Faith Singh, and the Mehrangarh Museum Trust. As well as creating a big, shiny, high-end party, the festival organisers claim a bigger mission: to create a platform for showcasing and validating the performing arts of Rajasthan, many of which face extinction.

ake the derun players of Shekhawati, who dance and strike a small twin-faced drum made with tightly stretched goat gut while singing songs of Gogaji the snake god. They're mendicants who, for a small fee, can cure the effects of a snake bite. But their trade is threatened by the onslaught of modern veterinary practices. It's the same story with the bhopa community – whose practice of invoking the healing powers of Pabuji, god of camels and horses through an all-night recitation of his epic story – is now shrinking, thanks to modern medicines.

An annual performance at RIFF can't replace the traditional income streams, but, according to festival organisers and artists alike (and it's an open sort of festival so I was able to interact with both), the year-round work of the RIFF has some far-reaching effects into the lives and livelihoods of artists. The pay cheque at the end of the performance is only one. A bigger claim of the festival is to help in raising the esteem of folk artists, many of whom are seen, and worse still see themselves, as inferior to classical, Bollywood and the imported musical forms of Europe and America. To place these folk musicians on stage alongside artists from any of these genres is to demonstrate their equal, and frequently superior skills as artists and entertainers.

The festival also acts as an informal conference for folk musicians. A few hundred meters from the foot of the fort, two hundred artists representing the astounding variety of Rajasthan's music scene are eating, sleeping and practicing together in a large hostel. Half of them may have performed in Delhi, a handful have been to Paris and London, but most won't have travelled to other parts of Rajasthan where their fellow artists make their livings. During RIFF, alliances are made, collaborations spring up and mobile numbers are exchanged. Indians are great networkers and musicians are no exception.

Last year, I witnessed another impact of the festival. With it's founder John Singh, a camera crew and a group of musicologists, I went to Jumma's village for a couple of hours, to meet the family, drink chai and, as it turned out, play some cricket. John told us that visits like this, repeated invitations from JVF to perform in Jaipur, and collaborations with people like Jason Singh have supported Jumma's voice and boosted his confidence. Now when you go to Pinan village and ask for Jumma 'Yogi' Khan, everyone knows who you're talking about.