“I'd bet you my syringe-shaped locket that Bill "(Smog)" Callahan read Camus' *The Stranger* at an impressionable age. Dozens of his songs begin with lines as piercingly disinterested as that book's laconic kickoff, "Mom died today. Or maybe it was yesterday." In aligning his leftovers for *Accumulation: None*, Callahan even seems to have aped the why-bother ethic of *The Stranger*'s casually murde”
