RM: Man this is tricky question. Partition, especially in North India is the defining moment in recent history. It has colored everything and continues to color everything— like the Holocaust, or the break up of the Beatles. But that said, among collectors I find little animosity towards musicians from one side of the border or the other. Islamic traditions, Urdu, Hindu, all get equal respect and feed one another. My area of interest was before partition. It is really the acoustic [pre-microphone] era and the transition of music from an oral culture to a record culture, the end of the patronage system. So, speaking about partition is not my forte. As far as I am aware, there exists in India no narrative like in the U.S.A. with collectors shaping historical identity in quite the way white collectors shaped the discussions around jazz and blues. India being such an old country with so many people, languages and traditions really has a very different relationship to its past, to history, to archives and records. It is strange to think—not just in relation to India but the world over—how people that are killing each other might also be enjoying the same kind of music. To me, to someone who is very affected and effected by music, this seems impossible. How can you harm another human being after hearing Keserbai Kerkar sing? How can you break a heart after listening to Buddy Holly's 'Learning the Game'? But we do, that's what humans do. We compartmentalize. Bangladesh tends to claim Kazi Nazrul as its poet, its Islamic answer to Tagore. Yet really he is revered on both sides of the border and many would consider him a Bengali first, rather than Indian or Pakistani or Bangladeshi. His music and poetry and songs are loved on both sides of the border and the fact that art is so often consumed or used by politics is a terrible disservice to humanity. OK, I'll get off the high horse now.