Who are you, God, of the songs of Will Oldham? I can't even remember them, those songs. I can't remember - but I remember God, who, in these songs, has slipped from Himself. Is the name, God, for what unnames all names. Of whom does he sing, Will Oldham, when he sings of you, God? Of no one, I know that. No one: who am I, listening? No one yet. No one, even. Changed in my place by what will not lest me rest in my place.
Non-resting, streaming: God says: you are no one at all. Will Oldham's God says: you are no one; nothing at all. And what does he say to him, Will Oldham: I am no one, as you, too are no one. Mask upon mask; and if his music, Will Oldham's, belongs to the past, it is one which has never been present. Mask upon mask: it was never there, it never began, there was no Origin; the music rests upon nothing - or it is music, mask, all the way down?
And what of God? Who are you, Will Oldham's God? For I share Him with him. Shared: mask of no one. Noh mask, blank mask, to whom do you belong? To drive away the face of God - yes. And when God's face is the driving away of God's face? When it is that face without face: the void, the mask of stars?