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Izabella Scott

IZABELLA SCOTT is an editor at The White Review.



Articles Available Online


Shola von Reinhold’s ‘LOTE’

Book Review

September 2020

Izabella Scott

Book Review

September 2020

To read Shola von Reinhold’s ornate, multi-layered novel LOTE (2020) is to encounter a baroque mind. It tells the story of a queer Black...

Art Review

November 2019

Actually, the Dead are Not Dead

Izabella Scott

Art Review

November 2019

During Bergen Assembly’s opening days, I am asked to attend a number of mock funerals, including one for a...

Keith was not the songwriter Darren and Stewart wrote the songs Keith hit things, some of which were drums He came in one day with a song and nobody wanted to play it The song was the least of their problems They had signed with a label, so their music was used in adverts and that, it brought in some dosh, they were shameless rock sluts because the fans downloaded the songs for free Slutdom was not the issue The issue was that the contract would not let them do independent gigs Keith had had an argument with them because the Arctic Monkeys, look at the fucking Arctic Monkeys, why the fuck can’t we do what the fucking Arctic Monkeys, this being the capacity for inarticulate rage which had made him a drummer in the first   And Darren and Stewart, being songwriters, had talked and talked and talked and talked to the point that there were signatures on the contract   Then the inconceivable had happened which is that Thom Yorke sent an email inviting them to do a gig Keith said they should just do it, fuck the fucking contract but Darren and stewart   So then Keith was very quiet Never a good sign Given Keith’s known propensity to hit things other than drums So Darren said they would record the song       Keith tried to explain his concept and Darren and Stewart kept arsing about and then Sean the keyboardist sussed that it was an arsing about session and then Keith put down his sticks Darren, Stewart and Sean sussed that the beat was gone Keith, says Darren What the fuck Keith disengaged from the scaffolding of things that could be hit that made noise   He stood up he walked across the floor while Darren, Stewart and Sean varied the theme of   What the fuck He took the mic from Darren In addition to not being a songwriter Keith was not a singer he dragged the lyrics of the song over reluctant vocal chords and spat them into the mic fucking great man said Darren who did not want another guitar percussioned to subatomic particles against wall,

Contributor

September 2015

Izabella Scott

Contributor

September 2015

IZABELLA SCOTT is an editor at The White Review.

Book Review

August 2019

Jordy Rosenberg’s ‘Confessions of the Fox’

Izabella Scott

Book Review

August 2019

It’s hot as fuck, said the friend who handed me Confessions of the Fox, a faux-memoir set in eighteenth-century...

Navine G. Khan-Dossos, Echo Chamber

Art Review

November 2017

Izabella Scott

Art Review

November 2017

A lattice of diamonds and crosses, painted onto a 21-metre long wall at the Van Abbemuseum in Eindhoven, scatters my gaze. Artist Navine G....
Hot Rocks

feature

November 2016

Izabella Scott

feature

November 2016

‘We have received around 150 of them,’ Massimo Osanna tells me, as we peer into four small crates stuffed full of dusty freezer bags....
False shadows

Art

August 2016

Izabella Scott

Art

August 2016

The ‘beautiful disorder’ of the Forbidden City and the Yuanmingyuan (Garden of Perfection and Light) was first noted by the Jesuit painter Jean Denis...

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fiction

Issue No. 6

Stolen Luck

Helen DeWitt

fiction

Issue No. 6

Keith was not the songwriter. Darren and Stewart wrote the songs. Keith hit things, some of which were drums....

Interview

Issue No. 19

Interview with Álvaro Enrigue

Thomas Bunstead

Interview

Issue No. 19

Álvaro Enrigue is a Mexican writer who lives and teaches in New York. A leading light in the Spanish-language...

feature

May 2014

How Imagination Remembers

Maria Fusco

feature

May 2014

How imagination remembers is twofold, an enfolded act of greed and ingenuity. I believe these impulses to be linked...

 

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