Last week’s theme was Burns Night – the annual celebration of the poet Robert Burns, and for my purposes, all things Scottish. (Playlist at the end.)
Monologue, from the end of the show:
I was listening to Padraig O’Tuoma’s wonderful podcast Poetry Unbound and he offered that the etymology of “record” has of course “re- ‘for “again”, and “cord” coming out of the Latin for heart. I’m quite taken with this “re-hearting” idea. I think we can see it in Burns’ work to preserve folk songs, to write lyrics for old airs and to generally preserve and spread a certain version of Scots language and identity – a return to the heart.
And I thought about this practice, this getting together every week to spin… records. (Maybe next week I should put a literal vinyl record on, but you know what I mean. I found an antique mall with just tons of records to flip through, if I don’t get snowed in.)
(Note: I got snowed in.)
One of the neat things about DJing on DS106 is that there’s one number of listeners which appears on the website, and a smaller number that appears on the server’s private dashboard, and a smaller number than that which the dashboard can put on a map. And sometimes those folks comment on Facebook or Mastodon or text, and sometimes not. I truly love the not knowing – the wondering who the listeners are in the gaps. Wonder what other heart is beating along with us tonight. It makes it feel a little less one-way.
And of course there are the other folks – the creators who made the music, the various folks in our lives who helped us build our tastes. They’re not actually with us and yet they are, they’re part and parcel of what moves us. I said it to the guys in Illiterate Light when I saw them at Newport last summer, and I told them about the little 3-song playlist that helped me get through the last year. I do think it’s truly amazing how art allows people who’ve never met to feel seen and connected and cared for. To have their heart touched by someone who becomes a little bit less a stranger. To restore our hearts past distance or disconnection or death.
So let’s go out on Robbie Burns’ greatest hit, performed here by Palmyra. Let’s take a cup of kindness.
Not available on Spotify:
The actual version of Culloden’s Harvest I played:
Featured Image: “Print of Robert Burns after Nasmyth” from the Dumfries & Galloway Museums, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0 at https://flic.kr/p/ctX6gU
