by Payton Maclean
This Saturday marks 20 years since the tragic loss of Steven Paul Smith, known professionally as Elliott Smith. His constant tension between polish and texture has left a lingering allure that has influenced the likes of many contemporary artists such as Sufjan Stevens and Phoebe Bridgers. His untimely death at the all-too-young age of just 34 left so many searching for more details about the recluse singer’s life and creative process, and turning to the depths of his catalog for answers. Elliott may have delivered the words that will allow us to best understand this highly compelling question during an interview with the Boston Herald in 2000 when he said, “I don’t think perfection is very artful… the object is not to stop or arrive anywhere; it’s just to make this thing as beautiful as they can.” Let’s explore the elegant idiosyncrasy of his first and last complete projects and appreciate the hauntingly beautiful trail of music that he left us with through his strikingly honest writing.
“Roman Candle”- 1994: “Watched the dying day, blushing in the sky. Everyone is uptight. So, come on, night”- “No Name #3”
Elliott’s first self-effacing project is a sparsely arranged, hauntingly intimate window into the complex mind of the singer-songwriter that was written without any intention of release. Initially, it only resulted in a small local following. His unassertive, double-tracked vocals and brilliantly unique finger-picking patterns first introduced here are two of the essential elements of Elliot’s work that so many have attempted to replicate over and over. Despite its brevity, the lo-fi project is a masterful display of both composition and lyricism, tied with a seemingly paradoxical sense of minimalism, as emphasized by his decisions to leave four of the nine tracks unnamed.
Elliott lets his psyche wander throughout the album and delivers unfettered cries that are guaranteed to stick with listeners long after the initial listen in the refrain of the title track and throughout the first untitled song, “No Name #1.” Themes of aimlessness are dispersed and relayed through the voyage of the setting sun as it turns to night on “No Name #3” and in the spine-tingling narrative of “Drive All Over Town.” Though his vocals initially sound shy, the entire project ultimately delivers a sense of aplomb and an acute musical style that maintains its authenticity in a way that draws few parallels. “Roman Candle” is a self-announcement to the music scene like no other that was highly indicative of what was to come from the poet.
“Figure 8”- 2000 “Someone found the future as a statue in a fountain. At attention, looking backward in a pool of water. Wishes with a blue songbird on his shoulder, who keeps singing over everything”- “Everything Means Nothing to Me”
Just over half a decade later, we received the final piece of Elliott’s fully completed work. It’s all altogether opulent. It’s lush, and it displays the complete evolution of his writing and production throughout his life. At this point, Elliott has completely broken out of the underground status he formerly held. His signing to SKG Music Records and 1998 Oscar nomination for Best Original Song (“Miss Misery,” which was featured in “Good Will Hunting”) allow for a wider range of instrumentation and more accessible presentation than his early four-track rendered works. Despite this commercial success, Elliot continued to create breathtakingly distinctive arrangements and deeply emotionally resonant lyrics, which he combined with experimental production that leaves the audience feeling as though all of his previous work has been building up to this moment.
The album kicks off with the bright and unabashed “Son of Sam.” Highlighted by a punching electric guitar, Elliott speaks on the importance of maintaining authenticity over notoriety, and appropriately follows up the sentiment with a reserved and gut-wrenching track that many view as a callback to his earlier guitar work, “Somebody That I Used to Know.” The variety established in the early leg of this album continues throughout the duration of the project, leaving listeners on the edge of their seats through pounding drum fills and intricate finger-picking that create an enthralling clash of emotions. We are ultimately left with the final culmination of his music that delivers on every level.
So what does this tell us about Elliott and what can we learn? Whether writing basement-fueled meticulously lo-fi renderings or labyrinthine ballads, Elliott never wrote for an audience. Every note has a tremendous amount of weight and meaning that can only come from the pinnacles of pure artistry, regardless of the subject — whether it be existentialist, introspective or a barefaced social critique. His compositions are not just an inspiration but a benchmark for musical sincerity. Artists everywhere must learn, not only from his fusion of technical skill and particularity but from his consistency through his transformation and fame. By portraying life as he saw it, naked and unapologetically, the world gained a once-in-a-lifetime collection of daily observations and stories turned into artwork that will live on for generations to come. We must learn to create without fear, for to appeal to the broad societal eye will only result in the erasure of man’s most beautiful design. Thank you, Elliott. Heaven adores you.