I used to write for a very small, independently run and non-profit magazine called The Stripe a few years back. Well, quite a few years back now. It was a tiny black and white magazine that was available in less than ten locations in El Paso that lasted for maybe like one, two years?One time we met for a collective meeting on ideas. Brainstorming about latest releases and such – I remember talking about how Get Behind Me Satan was great as usual and how I didn’t like Coldplay – you know, being topical and such. One forgets how much is shown in one’s character through a debate on ideas and creative delivery. I remember sitting back because well, I only write about music mostly. There’s a lot of films and TV shows I love, there is art that I can share and think about, there is an opinion on almost many topics of interest but music is my passion. While most discuss current events to detail, people they’d like to interview, I didn’t really care much.
So then this dude pulls out these drawings he’s made. He’d drawn and colored various images of things – idols, people, significant figures, et al – and he pulls out these three different drawings he’s made of Elliott Smith. I remember thinking they were decently done and somewhat similar yet, dissimilar, from the original person and then he showed one of Smith with a green background and his first name in huge letters in front, like a marquee: ELLIOT. It was like in some cursive type manuscript he had done, in bold black letters with a white border to make it even more distinctive. I remember instantly wanting to correct him for the misspelling; the drawing is nice, yeah yeah but you don’t even know how to spell his name? That’s like saying my favorite artist is Jon Lennon or something, it’s small, but huge. But I waited, I stayed quiet. I hadn’t said anything in our meeting yet, why would I contribute something now? I figured, too, that he would maybe state that the drawing was unfinished, that maybe he misspelled it on purpose, some kind of explanation. It never came and neither did the question by anyone there on why it was misspelled.
I maybe should’ve spoken up back then, could it be that he himself was unaware it was misspelled? Or am I just that pretentious when it comes to music: “You better know how to spell it if you’re gonna say you love it!” It doesn’t matter much anymore but whenever I think about Elliott Smith and the impact he left, it’s a pretty substantial one. Anyways, back then I was heavy and still am on From a Basement on the Hill but as much as I liked it, I couldn’t get past how it might’ve sounded if Smith finished it himself.
But back on Either/Or Smith was on top of his game and really making the music of his own fruition. It was here, on his third album, that many consider his breakthrough and for me, well it’s probably my favorite album of his. There’s a lot to be said here and maybe I can make a part two very soon about it to highlight more of the music and less lame stories from my past haha. Smith was a master at songwriting in demonstrating the uncanny ability at being raw, uncouth and emotional while still being poetically poignant. His words were as beautiful as his own voice was. He would layer it in a manner that it multi-tracked as backing vocals, harmonies, the melody layered on top of his and much more. Aside from that, all of the instruments on Either/Or are all played by Smith. It’s really a spectacular album; many other, much better and much more sophisticated words have gone on to be written about it.
Here is “Angeles” which has come out in two Gus Van Sant movies and is probably one of the most well-known. It’s an acoustic guitar with Smith’s voice singing about wanting to be that special someone for her.
And this is “Ballad of Big Nothing” which in my opinion, is a perfect song in many ways. It has the amazing verses that sing about arguments and living life in a broken relationship and the choruses are these big sing-offs to her, “You can do what you want to, whenever you want to…though it doesn’t mean nothing. Big nothing.” It’s surely ironic but more so, grippingly devastating. The big guitar and drums pounding away behind him, it’s the perfect balance of heartfelt desire and sadness. – Bryan
