Elliott Smith

Roman Candle

admin — Tue, 06 Jul 2010 00:00:00 +0000

Some might think this is another round of Elliott Smith’s posthumous work but it’s actually his first album. Kill Rock Stars has re-released and remastered Roman Candle, which was originally released in 1994 on the Cavity Search label. It’s self-recorded and Smith played all the instruments. The album is short, only thirty minutes, but in these eight songs you can see how Smith’s great career started. Smith’s soft melancholy tone is present in the lyrics as one would expect, and the fact that it is a completely self made album doesn’t take away from the quiet fury of his music. The album doesn’t sound like a first album, but rather like a bold, bar-setting collection of fine folk songs.

Contrary to its name, the album doesn’t offer nine individual explosions of balls-of-fire-songs. Each one has spark, but the album as a whole has more of a combined, melded flow. The title track is the most upbeat and maintains its quick layered guitar rhythm throughout its three minutes and thirty-seven seconds. It’s by far the most ball-of-fire of all the songs but creates a nice opening to the album. The rest of the disc follows the classic Smith alternative folk style of beautifully harmonized vocals laid over ear soothing guitar-driven melodies.

Some tracks are delicate ballads like “No Name #3,” a dark lullaby with words like “Watched the dying day blushing in the sky/ Everyone is uptight, so come on night/ Everyone is gone, home to oblivion.” But the fragility melts away in the penultimate and longest track “Last Call” where Smith turns up the amp and adds some grit to his guitars as he sings: “You’re a tongue less talker, you don’t care what you say/ You’re a jaywalker, and you just, just walk away/ that’s all you do.”

This first album is particularly special because it marks the beginning of Smith’s incredible, and unfortunately, short career. Lucky for us, he made five more after Roman Candle, each marking Smith’s evolution as an artist. Roman Candle holds its own in the Smith canon as a first testament to his talent, and his will and need to express himself with music.

Written by: Sara Custer, July 5th 2010

From A Basement On The Hill

admin — Sun, 09 May 2010 08:00:00 +0000

By Elliott Smith

Kill Rock Stars

My indie cred—if you want to call it that—is this: I was at one of Elliott Smith’s last shows. At the Northwestern University A&O Ball in 2002, Smith attempted to open for Wilco, fumbling with his guitar, breaking a string, complaining that his hand fell asleep, and never really finishing a song before trudging off stage an hour later. My friends and I were so angry and disappointed. “Is he on drugs?” If only we’d known the truth. If only anyone had known what was to come. A year and a half later, Smith committed suicide by stabbing himself in the chest.

I love Elliott Smith's music. I’m a sad former college radio nerd who grew up at the height of his popularity. “Miss Misery” is undoubtedly one of my favorite songs, in part because I love any movie shot in Boston and featuring under-the-radar music. But after he died, I couldn’t bring myself to listen to From a Basement on the Hill. Tragically, I’m a pro at handling death in the short term, but posthumous releases sort of freak me out. What’s done is done, right? What does it mean if the artist isn’t here to be a part of the production or release of his or her work? Only recently did I pick up some posthumous 2Pac and feel good about it. A decade later, I apparently come around.

Kill Rock Stars, arbiter of northwestern indie cool, recently got the rights to the 2004 release from ANTI-. Anyone who got a first listen in, well, the past five years, knows that this album is beautiful but sad. Songs like “A Fond Farewell” are reminiscent of XO. Others dabble in noise rock with strange layers of buzzing and bird noises attached. The album, sort of like Smith’s life, feels like a celebration on a rainy day. You could try to be the happiest person in the world, attempting revelry with friends, but inevitably, there will be a dark cloud on the horizon. That’s just how some of us are made.

Such a large percentage of From a Basement on the Hill deals in morbid fare: goodbyes, being a fuck up, memories, drugs, feeling lost, trying to keep it together. I’m not the first to say that it all feels foreboding, even now that we know the end of the story.

But you don’t listen to think back in sadness. You listen to remember why you ever listened at all. Elliott Smith made incredible music during his short time on Earth. If you’re as silly as I was—to largely overlook this album for the last few years—go grab a copy and remember the good times with the floppy-haired guy with the acoustic guitar and mellow voice. And if you never discovered Smith while he was alive, you still have time. Take advantage.

Written by: Brittany Shoot, May 9th 2010

New Moon

admin — Tue, 10 Jul 2007 23:51:00 +0000

By Elliott Smith

Kill Rock Stars

In my Alabama high school, our English teacher had us select writers to do a report on. She carefully went down the list announcing a name with a short one-line bio to quickly introduce the writer to the class. My hand shot up to claim Sylvia Plath when I learned she committed suicide in her thirties; I was morbidly intrigued. In preparation for that school report I remember sitting in the library with headphones on listening to a BBC recording Plath made of her poem "Lady Lazarus." I can still hear the tone in her voice when she announces: "I have done it again. One year in every ten I manage it…. And I a smiling woman. I am only thirty. And like the cat I have nine times to die…. The second time I meant To last it out and not come back at all…. Dying Is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well. I do it so it feels like hell. I do it so it feels real. I guess you could say I've a call." At the time I couldn't help but read into every quiver as evidence that Plath knew she was going to take her own life shortly after writing and recording this poem.

I approach Elliott Smith's posthumous release New Moon with the same ears; with song titles like "Going Nowhere," "Whatever," "Almost Over" and "Big Decision," I thought I would hear something in the lyrics that would announce his early death in 2003 (which was first reported as a suicide, though the evidence is still inconclusive on whether or not the two stab wounds were self-inflicted). Epitaph Records released an album with some of his newer material in 2004, but in New Moon, Kill Rock Stars offers a 24-song double-CD with material he recorded between 1994 and 1997. The CDs offer more examples of his songwriting brilliance, using acoustic guitars and simple recordings that are the basis of his earlier work. I never really got into the overly produced stuff he put out after leaving Kill Rock Stars, so this CD offers a great look backwards at a sound that was so familiar to me in college. There are no big surprises on this album, but fans will enjoy these previously un-released tracks.

Written by: Ailecia Ruscin, July 10th 2007