Last weekend, Edinburgh hosted Burnsong Live, a three day festival of concerts, songwriting workshops and readings celebrating the life and work of the poet Robert Burns. Participants included Norman Blake from Teenage Fanclub, Aberfeldy, Roddy Woomble, Steve Severin and, somehow inevitably, Midge Ure, while previous Burns an a' That festivals in the poet's native Ayrshire have featured such luminaries as Patti Smith and Lou Reed. A rum lot, then, their diversity undermining any tired notion that, aside from the drunken masses on Hogmanay, Burns appeals solely to a few old folkies and the unfathomably irritating Eddi Reader. On the contrary, Burns' stock has never been higher among a whole eclectic swarm of music makers, which would be a dubious accolade were it not for the fact that they look entirely at home in each other's company.
Perhaps it's because Burns was always more of a songwriter than a poet, and one of the best songwriters Britain has ever produced at that, equally assured tackling politics, romance, sex, humour or friendship. Underlining the essential rights of every human being, however flawed, 'A Man A Man For A' That' is every bit as anthemic and eternally relevant as Dylan's 'Blowin' In The Wind' or Woody Guthrie's 'This Land Is Your Land'. In fact, Burns and Guthrie share political leanings and many common traits, not least the ability to versify their populist, establishment-baiting libertarian ideals in a way that instantly connected to the masses.
'A Parcel O' Rogues' says more about a small nation's ability to shoot itself in the foot than a million one-dimensional songs of nationalism ever will, while 'Ae Fond Kiss' and 'A Red, Red Rose' are love songs of almost Platonic perfection and tenderness, essential texts for any budding singer-songwriter. And although 'Auld Lang Syne' is one of the most famous songs in the world (Burn's lovely original melody is less rigid than the popularised version, and all the better for it), its message of remembered friendship and reconciliation generally passes people by. There are dozens of other, lesser known gems in the Burns songbook. Check out Karine Polwart's version of 'The Lea'rig' on her new record, The Fairest Floo-er, for current evidence of his masterly skills.
Pompous literary traditionalists like Roy Hattersley denounce Burns as a rough, parochial voice, barely even worthy of contempt, but anyone with half an ear and a beating heart can tell that he speaks to the universe. Don't just take my word for it. Dylan has stolen from him wholesale. Richard Thompson reveres him. It's perfectly obvious that Tom Waits has read him extensively. Everyone from Billy Bragg to Will Oldham owe him a debt. Portraits reveal a touch of the Pete Doherty about his visage, while his propensity for bedding the lasses would put Russell Brand to shame. Make no mistake. This is a man who would have taken to a tour bus like a duck to water.
