Review of the albium "From a Basement on a Hill"
By Steven Rybicki
Smith's 2003 suicide functions as a melancholy accent to his work. Investigators are still perplexed about the nature of his death. They are stuck on the question of whether it was a suicide or a homicide. Though to fans and critics, of course, it will always be suicide. We were all waiting for it... anticipating it... suspending some interpretations of his records for that moment when his "suicide" would lend those opinions authenticity. He's a Camus, he's a Drake, he's a Co-bain and we are all "responsible" for this death in the same way he is not the "author" of any of his lyrics. As produced, arranged, and programmed by Rob Schnapf and Joanna Blome, Elliott Smith's posthumously released record, From a Basement on the Hill begins, "Last stop for a resolution/end of the line, is it confusion1."' Quite appropriately, as evidenced by his mystery shrouded death, he never seems to care whether he answers that question. This record finds him again pontificating upon his emotional landscape. Additionally, he opts to open a new wound: a self-loathing hostility and contempt he feels towards his work and that work's correspondence to, and participation in, the record industry. He spits out, "I've got no new act to amuse you/I've got no desire to use you, you know/but anything that 1 could do would never be enough for you."
The crowning achievement of the record is the two track climax, "King's Crossing" and "Twilight." Personal and professional issues dominate the cuts. The record is too recent to posit these as quintessential offerings from Elliott, but all of his musical and textual hallmarks are present and finely, painfully, and melodically informed. Issues of involvement in the record industry are front and center, as well as the perfunctory Elliott Smith lamentations on love, loss, addiction, and despondence.
"I can't prepare for death more than I already have" is the haunting line that figures "King's Crossing" as an epic piece of songwriting. His melodies emote and soar and he obsesses over his writing and career:
"The method acting that pays my bills/keeps a fat man feeding in Beverly Hills/I got a heavy metal mouth it knows obscenity/and I get my check from the trash treasury/because I took my insides out."
He includes surreal, visceral images that serve as homage to his Beatle heroes, John and Paul, but are profoundly relevant to the music scene that has existed in what Stylus magazine named the "Beatles are Dead" era of the indie record (which began after the release of Radiohead's OK Computer). Elliot contributes: "It's Christmas time/and the needle's on the tree/a skinny Santa bringing something to me" and "open your parachute and grab your gun/falling down like an omen, a setting sun." The song ends with a brilliant, bitter line that incorporates Smith's self-hatred and love of music: "But I don't care if I f— up/I'm going on a date/with a rich white lady/ain't life great?give me one good reason not to do it/(because I love you)/so do it."
"Twilight" is one of Smith's most brilliant blends of hope and despair set in that familiar context of contact between men and women. Light is the dominant motif of the song, "go off to sleep in the sunshine/I don't want to see the day when it's dying" and "because your candle burns too bright/well, I almost forgot it was twilight." But the song is most poignant with his description of yet another female savior of his wretched, retching soul: "I haven't laughed this hard in a long time/I better stop now before I start crying." And he alternates between the "she's a sight to see, she's good to me/I'm already somebody's baby/she's a pretty thing and she knows everything/but I'm already somebody's baby" and "I'm nice to you, I could make it through/that you're already somebody's baby/if I could make you smile if you stayed a while/but how long will you stay with me baby."
The record ends w ith "A Distorted Reality is Now a Necessity to be Free." Adopted as one of the songs on Moveon.org's Soundtrack for the Future of America, the track contains intimate imagery entangled with political dejection. The personal images of the song strikingly focus upon Smith's resignation to his drug usage and depression, "I'm floating in a black bal-loon/o.d. on Easter afternoon/my mama told me baby stay clean/there's no in between" and he pleads with his object of attention, "shine on me baby because it's rainin' in my heart." Smith transitions to a more political tone with the song's chorus "You disappoint me/you people rakin' in on the world/ the devil's script sells/you the heart of a blackbird" and the record's final lyric, "sun is rising on a chopping glare/rain dropping acid blotter in the air/a distorted reality is now a necessity to be free/so disappointing/so first I put it all down to luck/god knows why my country don't give a f—." The ending line is appropriately Smithian in its
politics because of its context. Politics is not a process which demands attention for its "essence," rather, it's only another aspect of Smith's grief about the world around him. It is noteworthy to see the shift to the "political" because of the rare incidence of Smith's work concentrating on social, rather than personal, ideas.
Attention to this record has remained on the evaluation of this record in Smith's oeuvre. I don't know where to place it, because if it's not obvious by this point in the review, I'll condescend to admit: I'm an Elliott Smith partisan. His work is soothing for me, and as selfish as this sounds, I believe it's true: I miss him.
Smith's 2003 suicide functions as a melancholy accent to his work. Investigators are still perplexed about the nature of his death. They are stuck on the question of whether it was a suicide or a homicide. Though to fans and critics, of course, it will always be suicide. We were all waiting for it... anticipating it... suspending some interpretations of his records for that moment when his "suicide" would lend those opinions authenticity. He's a Camus, he's a Drake, he's a Co-bain and we are all "responsible" for this death in the same way he is not the "author" of any of his lyrics. As produced, arranged, and programmed by Rob Schnapf and Joanna Blome, Elliott Smith's posthumously released record, From a Basement on the Hill begins, "Last stop for a resolution/end of the line, is it confusion1."' Quite appropriately, as evidenced by his mystery shrouded death, he never seems to care whether he answers that question. This record finds him again pontificating upon his emotional landscape. Additionally, he opts to open a new wound: a self-loathing hostility and contempt he feels towards his work and that work's correspondence to, and participation in, the record industry. He spits out, "I've got no new act to amuse you/I've got no desire to use you, you know/but anything that 1 could do would never be enough for you."
The crowning achievement of the record is the two track climax, "King's Crossing" and "Twilight." Personal and professional issues dominate the cuts. The record is too recent to posit these as quintessential offerings from Elliott, but all of his musical and textual hallmarks are present and finely, painfully, and melodically informed. Issues of involvement in the record industry are front and center, as well as the perfunctory Elliott Smith lamentations on love, loss, addiction, and despondence.
"I can't prepare for death more than I already have" is the haunting line that figures "King's Crossing" as an epic piece of songwriting. His melodies emote and soar and he obsesses over his writing and career:
"The method acting that pays my bills/keeps a fat man feeding in Beverly Hills/I got a heavy metal mouth it knows obscenity/and I get my check from the trash treasury/because I took my insides out."
He includes surreal, visceral images that serve as homage to his Beatle heroes, John and Paul, but are profoundly relevant to the music scene that has existed in what Stylus magazine named the "Beatles are Dead" era of the indie record (which began after the release of Radiohead's OK Computer). Elliot contributes: "It's Christmas time/and the needle's on the tree/a skinny Santa bringing something to me" and "open your parachute and grab your gun/falling down like an omen, a setting sun." The song ends with a brilliant, bitter line that incorporates Smith's self-hatred and love of music: "But I don't care if I f— up/I'm going on a date/with a rich white lady/ain't life great?give me one good reason not to do it/(because I love you)/so do it."
"Twilight" is one of Smith's most brilliant blends of hope and despair set in that familiar context of contact between men and women. Light is the dominant motif of the song, "go off to sleep in the sunshine/I don't want to see the day when it's dying" and "because your candle burns too bright/well, I almost forgot it was twilight." But the song is most poignant with his description of yet another female savior of his wretched, retching soul: "I haven't laughed this hard in a long time/I better stop now before I start crying." And he alternates between the "she's a sight to see, she's good to me/I'm already somebody's baby/she's a pretty thing and she knows everything/but I'm already somebody's baby" and "I'm nice to you, I could make it through/that you're already somebody's baby/if I could make you smile if you stayed a while/but how long will you stay with me baby."
The record ends w ith "A Distorted Reality is Now a Necessity to be Free." Adopted as one of the songs on Moveon.org's Soundtrack for the Future of America, the track contains intimate imagery entangled with political dejection. The personal images of the song strikingly focus upon Smith's resignation to his drug usage and depression, "I'm floating in a black bal-loon/o.d. on Easter afternoon/my mama told me baby stay clean/there's no in between" and he pleads with his object of attention, "shine on me baby because it's rainin' in my heart." Smith transitions to a more political tone with the song's chorus "You disappoint me/you people rakin' in on the world/ the devil's script sells/you the heart of a blackbird" and the record's final lyric, "sun is rising on a chopping glare/rain dropping acid blotter in the air/a distorted reality is now a necessity to be free/so disappointing/so first I put it all down to luck/god knows why my country don't give a f—." The ending line is appropriately Smithian in its
politics because of its context. Politics is not a process which demands attention for its "essence," rather, it's only another aspect of Smith's grief about the world around him. It is noteworthy to see the shift to the "political" because of the rare incidence of Smith's work concentrating on social, rather than personal, ideas.
Attention to this record has remained on the evaluation of this record in Smith's oeuvre. I don't know where to place it, because if it's not obvious by this point in the review, I'll condescend to admit: I'm an Elliott Smith partisan. His work is soothing for me, and as selfish as this sounds, I believe it's true: I miss him.
posted by Tim Hoskins at 12:00 PM
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