The Right Hand of Emily Dickinson

According to Snatchfork, Will Oldham’s new album is entitled Then the Letting Go. It’s probably safe to say he’s quoting Emily Dickinson:

as freezing persons recollect the snow–
first chill–
then stupor —
then the letting go —

In other news, about me, I’m going to see SunnO))) and Boris tonight. Big show in all the Circles. Had to use The Contacts to sneak in the back door. Boris is a rare sighting, and along with them, SunnO))) and their label, Southern Lord, were covered in the times this past Sunday. I don’t like getting scooped by the NYTimes magazine, especially on arts issues, especially since I’ve been preparing something big for The Contacts, to follow this concert, even though the NYTimes article was by the interesting youngish novelist John Wray, whose The Right Hand of Sleep, for a debut, was good enough for readers to overlook it’s inclusion of that debut-novel pratfall of connecting A to Z with a weak L to T section, swinging between parts of the plot like a rope bridge. Bring back the novella.


6 thoughts on “The Right Hand of Emily Dickinson

  1. I saw Borris on the OC last night. They were wearing Flaming Groovies t-shirts. Very odd.


  2. The Sunn0))) NYT article was kind of crap, actually. The author didn’t seem to really know all that much about metal, or music in general. It’s what you get when you ask one o’ them literamature types to write about rock ‘n’ roll.It seems a revelation to him that people without long hair are listening to metal. In my high school, at least half the Slayer fans had short hair. The guys who wanted to make it big in a hair band certainly had the requisite big hair, but plenty of serious fans didn’t want to be bothered with the upkeep or the ever-looming threat of mullethood.At the very least, where has this dude been for the last 15 years or so, when bands began to spawn from the ashes of Deadguy and the like, forming Today Is The Day, Mastodon, Dillinger Escape Plan, etc … Bah! I tire of these things you humans call “words.” On my planet, we just kick each other in the balls to get our point across.


  3. First of all, stop watching the OC. It’s not good. Falcon Crest was the best, ever, and they dind’t need no plastic-surgered dummy pretty kids to get their dirty soap out there.


  4. I agree; seemed Wray missed much metal over the past 15 years. Not in his defense, but the editors to whom he pitched the piece probably knew less, and that there’s how to write about the arts for them high-faluting mag-o-zines.In high school (and I suspect we mean the same one) there were always those kids that hid from everyone, thos e kids who lived in mud huts out behind the trailers, short-haired kids no more than 5 foot two, wore sleeveless grey shirts and gym shorts who yelled “for whhhhhhhhyyyyyy” from the back of the bus but couldn’t say much more in english; they loved the Mentors and didn’t give enough of a shit about you to even tell you. Been smoking since they were 10. Stole bikes. The big-haired metal kids wouldn’t talk to them.I loved them. They were feral. Popped their zits to Deicide.


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