waltz # ______

2003-11-11 - 8:47 p.m.

So the old internet access has been down for a while. Since about two in the afternoon on October 21, 2003. I know this because I was about to post a rather sad entry. I've saved it, and I'll paste it in unedited. Aside from the content to follow, however, things have been going fairly well for me lately. Details to follow, as they say...

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Elliott Smith was announced dead this morning. Stabbed himself in the heart. 34 years old, found by his live-in girlfriend. I'm still sort of in shock, so if I'm going to write a tribute it's probably best that I do it now, before I really start to grieve. This is going to be a big one for me. Like when I heard that George Harrison passed, but I was home checking my e-mail and reading the news, rather than having Lady Jean, my complete CD collection, and a full bar like I did to process the Quiet Beatle. I only have XO on hand, three beers, and no Jean (a great musician like the Goat God or my father would be the only real stand-in for her in these things). We'll see how it goes.

This isn't completly a surprise. Smith wrote wrenching songs about failed or failing relationships, loneliness, and drug and alcohol abuse on every album. He did the old John Lennon trick of putting active melodies on extremely dark lyrics quite a bit. He claimed his songs didn't seem that confessional or intimate to him, but they most certainly were. One of the best downer writers ever to record, and (not coincidentally,) one of the best to listen to when drinking in dim light. Nothing quite so cathartic as music. I can't tell you how sorry I am that it wasn't enough for him.

Elliott's talent was truly incredible, and not just in songcraft, at which he had no recent equal, with the possible exception of Jeff Buckley (and even there I'd have to lean towards Smith, though Buckley had by far the better of two exceptional singing voices). He was also a breathtaking technical musician. Once he left Heatmiser for his solo career, Elliott never recorded with another musician again. He put together intricate and beautiful tracks with consistancy, playing every instrument himself. His guitars and piano were both among the best you could find. One of those guys who could play as clean a spiderweb run as he wanted to, but knew when to let the scratch of sliding down the fretboard into a change. He knew how to mix his solos with masses of simple rhythm texture, (a rare gift, though when you listen to it it seems so simple; probably because it resonates so "right" in the soul).

We'll miss you, Elliott Smith. You were wrong to leave us, but I respect your right to go. I hope you find the peace you need, and I hope there's comfort in knowing, wherever you've gone off to now, that you made a lot of lives better, and those people won't forget you.

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