I first heard this - psalmody, they call it - during what they call the kirking of Inverness Council; the new council assembles in the town church, these strange unaccompanied psalms and anthems are sung, prayers are said and the Council marches to the Council House. Somehow, for no reason, we found ourselves invited to the official lunch and a tour of the building; we saw the room where wartime Churchill had convened his only extra-London War Cabinet and ate and drank like lords. But that shivery psalm singing, well, if you ever get the chance. Along with a Captain Beefheart concert at Warwick University; an Easter Sunday Mass more wailed than sung by ancient sopranos in Brittany and being suddenly surrounded, on an Orkney islet, by a Georgian choir, singing the sacred sites of the world, this Highlands psalmody was one of my life's magical musical moments. They will do some such for Kennedy, more than he deserves, less than he needs.