Listening to Elliott Smith
It’s a quiet Friday evening, and the kids are finally asleep. I’m listening to Elliott Smith’s New Moon, an album released after his apparent suicide in 2003.
Elliott Smith is this generation’s Nick Drake; a misunderstood, tortured and downright depressed singer-songwriter. Like Drake, his voice is not his strong suit, but his amazing guitar work adds to the simplicity of his songs. They both seem to evoke joy and sadness with their music.
Like many of his albums, I find some hidden jewels among the acoustic numbers; it’s as if he’s searching for the magic formula, and sometimes he finds it and well, sometimes he doesn’t. It’s a double album, but I think several tracks could have been saved for a “Rarities” LP later. This one goes on too long, but on a slow Friday night, one can never get enough quiet acoustic music.
Come to think of it, I think I’ll go listen to Drake’s Pink Moon now and continue the theme.
Ooh, that’s eerie; both of their last albums had the word “Moon” in it. Hmmm….
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