Elliott Smith- From A Basement on The Hill
For my first trick, I want to tell you all a story about an airport.
The flight seemed to go on forever. I never cared for flying a whole lot. I don't have panic attacks the second the wheels start rolling, but I've never loved the experience either. This particular flight was from O'Hare to Phoenix, with my parents and sister, for my cousins wedding. The trip isn't important. But when I stepped off the plane and turned my phone back on, I knew it was going to be a hard week for me. There was a voicemail waiting for me, telling me that Elliott Smith was dead. Apparent suicide. The rest of the time at the airport, and on the way to the hotel, I slipped into disbelief. Half angry, half shocked, and completely heartbroken. When I arrived at the hotel, I chose to forgoe family oriented activities the remainder of the afternoon to get a better grasp of what happened. The rest of my time in Arizona was highlighted by the Johnny Walker Red I drank in ode to a songwriter who seemed to get me without ever meeting me. I and felt like I sort of got him too. I think a lot of people felt like that.
Fast-forward to October 19, 2004. I had already heard the album. While I've never downloaded a whole lot of music, I couldn't wait for this one. I had been waiting since before he died, wanting to hear it when I heard of his death, and begging for it until I finally had it. It was astonishing. Equal parts sadness and optimism. The melancholy was there, but almost tinged with irony, as if to say "I'm better, despite my best intentions otherwise." I had listened to it at least 100 times before I actually received the record in the mail. That day, Elliott Smith's presumably last studio disc, From A Basement on The Hill, finally found it's way into my hands. As I opened the package, and saw for the first time the cover of the record, I couldn't believe he was gone. For God's sake, there's a picture of him on the cover of the record. He's looking good. He's still there, somewhere in the country, acoustic guitar in hand, tongue in cheek.
As I paged through the liner notes, my eyes began to well up with tears. The finality of everything seemed so solid at that time. I read every word of the liner notes, as I had read seemingly everything that was said about the record before it was released. The pictures, lyrics scrawled out in his own handwriting, and the production notes almost killed me- the final sentences as follows:
"final production by elliott's family and friends.
thank you."
thank you."
The music itself did the rest. With songwriting and production beyond any of his previous works, the album kicks off with the buzz-saw-beautiful "Coast to Coast," which I had particularly been looking forward to after reading about the double-drumming of Steven Drozd (The Flamings Lips) and Aaron Sperske (Beachwood Sparks) for months before I had heard the record. I think it must be said that I had heard many of these songs on live bootlegs before the record was leaked on the internet, far before it arrived in my sweaty hands. The next six songs, "Let's Get Lost" through "King's Crossing," were among those. However, with each track, there was a change. Perhaps it was more crisp, lyrics were changed, and the songs were (in most people's eyes) completed. Smith was known for a while to leave a song unfinished in concert, whether forgetting the words or simply not feeling like playing the song, but on this record, the singer and his band song fantastic.
It is impossible to talk about Elliott Smith without talking about the lyrics. Elliott walked that thin line of smart pop music and lyrics with a purpose. The puzzling thing for many fans is that From A Basement... seems to be both a self-composed requiem and a clean bill of health. In a fan favorite, "Fond Farewell," Smith quips,
"This is not my life,
it's just a fond farewell to a friend,
it's not what i'm like.
It's just a fond farewell to a friend
who couldn't get things right."
And for the first time in a long time, we believed it. However, the relief is short lived. Another live favorite, "King's Crossing," seems to be Smith's own wondering about his state of mind and health.
"Give me one good reason not to do it.
(Because we love you.)
So do it."
A lot has been made of these three lines since his death. The origin of the response "Because we love you" shows the importance of his true fans to Smith. In a concert bootleg, a female fan shouted the line out, and it became a bit of an inside joke among fans. When hearing it on the record (supposedly yelled out by his sister and ?ex-girlfriend?), it's simply chilling. Is the writer asking for love, or is the writer hinting that love is not enough. The true meaning will never be known, and doesn't really matter.
The amazing thing for this record is that, for many, this record means completely different things: the end to a beautifully sad story, a last goodbye, or a collection of memories. This is pop perfection. In the end, it will outlast the shock of his early death, the complaints over "bad" shows, and the critic's voices.
"A Distorted Reality is Now A Necessity to Be Free" completes the record, and whether or not it was Smith's intention to do so, this was a masterwork of song order. The last words from our loser-king, reassures us that maybe love is enough.
"Shine on me baby cause it's rainin' in my heart."
posted by Paul @ 8:15 AM
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