Hail, Hail, Rock'n'Roll

I had been looking for a voice to capture how it felt to hear that Vic Chesnutt had died, when I realised that voice was his ownI first heard Vic Chesnutt one Saturday morning in Dublin, many years ago now. Lying in bed in early summer, gulls cawing over the Liffey, a kettle boiling in the kitchen, Chesnutt's voice came rasping through from the living room stereo: "Michelle loves Willie/ Our little Sarah/ Daughters of the American Revolution." I sat up against the pillows."Stryper loves Jesus/ A...

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