Listening

Son of Sam- Elliott Smith

Did you know that Elliot Smith is dead? He is. I did not know this until a few weeks ago when I happened upon Jon Foreman's blog or something and he wrote about going to an Elliott Smith concert where the power went out and Elliott came on stage with candles and played acoustic till the power came on and then he finished the night with a bang and a light show and it was beautiful. And then Jon Foreman talked about hearing of Elliott's death and the profound impact it had on him.

To be honest, I read that blog post and I thought, huh, the name Elliott Smith sounds awful familiar, and I checked my iTunes and there it was, a hidden gem of a song, Elliott Smith's "Son of Sam". I've always loved that song. It is the only song by Elliott Smith I have ever heard but it's one of the most lovely.

Elliott was depressed. He died at the age of 34, and, considering that at the time he was working on his 6th studio album and was world-renowned with a dedicated fan following, I'd say he did pretty well for himself. Success-wise anyway.

But when he died, who was there? His girlfriend? Who else? Anyone? Was he glad? Or surprised. You know like in action films when a character gets stabbed, they fall back almost instantly and die with an expression of shock still frozen on their faces.

I wonder why. Why people who make things so beautiful are always so sad. I hope that isn't a non-negotiable. Like how art and angst go hand in hand, you can't have one without the other. I hope you can be happy and still create things that will speak to people's souls.

It feels odd to be listening to Elliott Smith now, to hear his voice so close to me singing lyrics so, potent, and know that he is no longer alive. That this piece of him I hear is just a fragment left behind, something he couldn't even take with him. That the thing that made these sounds that croon me to sleep at night- that body is decomposing in the dirt somewhere.