Today marks the 10th anniversary of Elliott Smith‘s suicide. When I heard he’d died, I cried. I cried for someone I never even knew. I cried because I knew I’d lost something important, as selfish as that sounds. I’m selfish about music. Sure, I share it like crazy, and I want people to love what I love because I think it will make them happy, but I also demand that the musicians I love keep producing stuff for me to obsess over just so I have something to obsess over. I cried when I heard about Elliott because the world losing his talent was tragic. But I also cried because I lost his talent. Like I said: selfish.
I loved (and still love) his music; Either/Or and XO were on constant rotation my first year of college. Those two albums, Kent’s Isola, and Billy Joel’s Greatest Hits, Vol. 1 & 2 were all I played. Poor Ann, my long-suffering best friend and roommate; I don’t know how she didn’t snap all of my CDs in half. I really played them that much. She’s an excellent human being, very patient, and she’s known me since we were three, though, so I guess she knew what she was getting into.
This Pop Phenomenology post is meant to be one of celebration, not sorrow. So enough with the sadness! I want to talk about what I love about Elliott Smith and “Bled White.”
The first exposure a lot of people had to ES’s music was when they saw Good Will Hunting, or later, when he performed on the Academy Awards. I didn’t see the movie when everyone else did, so I didn’t really listen to ES until I was hanging out with my boyfriend (side note of note: possibly ex-boyfriend at the time; we broke up and got back together a lot) in a coffee shop in my wee hometown. My friend John was working, and he had Either/Or playing over the sound system. I remember us talking about how amazing the guy’s voice was. It was his voice that killed me.
He had this breathy, delicate, sad, angelic voice. I can’t ever describe it any other way, and I’ve tried. Those are the only words my brain will allow. And as I sat and stared at the picture of ES in the CD liner, I couldn’t reconcile how a voice like that could come from a guy that looked so…hard core. I mean, he just looked like such a bad ass. Years later, when I was lucky enough to see him in concert, I still felt that strange disconnect, but he had the sweetest demeanor on stage. He was just kind of fragile-seeming. He was mesmerizing, really. He just stood there on stage and broke my heart with his sweet smile and that damn voice of his.
I chose to say something about “Bled White” because though it’s not my most favorite ES song, it contains a moment that, when I hear it, still gives me chills. I am a fan of a well-placed swear word. I can’t help it. When used correctly, swear words are powerful, wonderful things. “Bled White” does not disappoint. Right near the song’s end, at the 2:31 ES sings, “I may not seem quite right / But I’m not fucked / Not quite / Bled white.” Even now, my pulse jumps a little when I hear it. It’s the way he sings it, the way his voice runs you down with it, the way he emphasizes that most excellent of swear words that kills me. It just seems to come from nowhere. You don’t expect a voice so sweet to curse so well. I’ve played this song for people and made them listen very closely to the line. No matter who I play it for, though, I always exclaim, “Elliott Smith is the best swearer ever!” immediately after. Some of them get it, some of them look at me like I’m nuts.
So, Mr. Smith, thank you for putting your music into the world. I’m sorry you couldn’t stay. I’m sorry you couldn’t be here to give us more to love, as this selfish girl wants. Thank you for your voice, and thank you for being such a fantastic swearer.
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Jillian
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