Elliott Smith (Elliott Smith)

Album review

Nothing can get in his way, not even death. A knife to the chest is how Steven Paul Smith aka Elliott Smith left us at the age of 34. The incident was concluded as a suicide without great conviction. But what all the world could agree on was his dazzling career which was firmly dubbed by the rock world as the exploits of a penniless genius who was caught in the wake of grunge which dominated the early 90s. After the post-punk explosion caused by his group Heatmiser, the still unknown icon from Portland very soon expressed his depression on the undisclosed solo album Roman Candle (1993) in which he touched upon the themes of predilection, abandon and disillusion. It was with this eponymous Elliott Smith that he started to experience tangible success, albeit moderate. The somewhat ironically named label Kill Rock Stars did well to promote him, putting Elliott’s face in the front window of record stores. Smith recorded the album once again from home. The sound of this new version was so intimate that one could have imagined his friend Tony Lash, on the sofa, fingers gliding and lips quietly whistling the array of folk ballads. From the opening Needle in the Hay to the closing The Biggest Lie passing through Satellite, he demonstrates the talents for writing melancholic songs with next to nothing. There are some rare touches of drums and a harmonica but all the rest is stripped of all excess. “I personally can’t get more dark than that”, he would later say on the matter, only to then say “I think I’m just about as happy as all the other people I know. Which is occasionally”. Following his worldwide recognition with the Oscar-nominated Miss Misery from Gus Van Sant’s Good Will Hunting then the excellent Either/Or. © Charlotte Saintoin/Qobuz