Hail, Hail, Rock 'n' Roll

I have often tried to work out whether Will Oldham reminds me more of white breath on a cold day or the sound of crickets on a hot nightThere are some songs that are barely songs at all, that are barely more than cuckoo-spit. It's not about their length or their loudness, but rather something about their weight; they are fine denier songs that catch and snag and run the way a stocking might.There's precisely such a track on Vic Chesnutt's 1993 album, Drunk, a recording of Stevie Smith's best-kno...

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