Good will talking
The elusive Elliott Smith
by Linda Laban
Among the early-evening crowd chatting, drinking, and eating upstairs at the
Middle East in Cambridge, Elliott Smith frowns and looks, by contrast, ill
at ease. His hurried, furtive gait across the downstairs room, where he'll be
headlining that night, screams anxiety. Perhaps if it weren't for the impending
interview, Smith's mood would be sunnier. He does not like being interviewed,
that much is certain.
Then again, Smith -- who looks the boho street-smart part with his tousled hair
and clean, comfortable, but certainly not fashionable clothes -- has never come
across as a particularly relaxed or happy person. Now, however, thanks to a
trio of excellent mid-'90s solo albums, the Grammy-nominated "Miss Misery" from
the Good Will Hunting soundtrack, and a critically acclaimed major-label
debut, 1998's XO (DreamWorks), he's become the indie-rock version of
rock's great white hope, a status he seems to accept more as a burden than as
an accolade.
His fifth album, Figure 8 (DreamWorks), isn't likely to change that.
Effervescent yet with a doleful undertow, sophisticated but not showy,
Figure 8 meanders smoothly from rootsy mid-tempo rockers ("Junk Bond
Trader") to emotionally tethered and tattered ballads ("Everything Reminds Me
of Her") to bright freewheeling pop ("LA"). Lyrics are shadowy, wafting
parables, beautifully wrought with taut melody and churning rhythms, with
perhaps the odd moment of more direct reminiscence, like the incensed,
melancholic "Everything Reminds Me of Her."
Production, as on XO, is again courtesy of Smith himself with Tom
Rothrock and Rob Schnapf of Beck fame helping out. The resultant well-crafted
singer/songwriter pop is as Beatlesque as XO was -- in other words,
quite Beatlesque. Figure 8 is melodic retro-pop without a breakbeat or
rap cameo in sight. This man's music, like his clothes, does not follow fashion
dictates.
A couple of years ago, Smith gave me a surface-skimming description of himself
growing up outside Austin as a suburban '80s metal kid listening to the likes
of the Scorpions. It was in Portland, Oregon, in the early '90s that Smith,
first with the band Heatmiser and then solo, found his feet as an artist. He
spent more of the late '90s on the road than he did in any one place,
eventually settling in Brooklyn for a time before moving to LA, where he now
lives.
I spoke with him when he stopped in at the Middle East last February for a solo
show on his first tour since completing the new disc. Smith, who habitually
spends a lot of time on the road, returns this Tuesday with his band to headline
Lupo's. "I was on tour for a long time last time," he explained in a
delicate, weary voice. "I can't remember when that was . . .
several months ago . . . I really can't remember at all."
Q: On XO, you played most of the instruments yourself. I
understand you did the same on Figure 8.
A: "Yeah, Sam [Coombes of Quasi/Heatmiser] plays some bass. Pete
Thomas from Elvis Costello's band, the Attractions, played drums on three
songs, and Joey Waronker [Beck, R.E.M.] played drums on one song.
Q: What's the significance of the title Figure 8?
A: At first it came from this multiplication song that was on TV
when I was a kid that taught kids how to multiply by eight. There was a song
for every number; the one for eight was kind of weird, classical-sounding
thing. I recorded a cover of that for kicks; it's not on the record.
Q: There are a couple of moments where you play some classical
piano parts.
A: I took lessons for a year when I was a kid, I played some
classical. I'm not particularly into classical; in fact I hardly ever listen to
it. Anytime there's any kind of chromatic thing in music, it makes it start
sounding like classical.
Q: Do you think that people tend to overthink your songs?
A: Yes I do. Well, sometimes I do. Then again, I don't know what
people think about my songs, if they think anything at all, except when people
talk to me about them. I don't think it's that important to think that much
about songs at all. They're meant to be heard and thought about maybe in an
internal way. For me it's not important to analyze the lyrics of a song,
especially if it's a song that I like, the last thing I want to do is take it
all apart.
Q: So you are not into deconstructing songs yourself?
A: It's interesting to do, but it's kind of
counter . . . kind of opposite to the simple experience of
liking a song. A song's put together in a certain way and that's the whole
point, the whole song. Like, there's a point you are supposed to look for
inside it?
Q: The whole entity is the point, then?
A: Yeah.
Q: Unlike most of Figure 8, "Everything Reminds Me of
Her" seems more obvious, a straightforward song about a broken relationship.
A: If it were totally one-dimensional, I wouldn't have bothered to
record it. I don't know exactly what it is, but it is more direct than the
other songs, and it's pretty coherent. It's like a dream that makes more sense
than another dream. I don't really like to think about them, I prefer to not
think of my songs that way.
Q: XO kept you on the road for a long time. Does that interfere
with your songwriting?
A: That makes me want to write more, not less. If I'm touring, I
get tired of playing the same songs all the time, and that acts as a reason to
make up new ones.
Q: Do you get tired of your older songs?
A: Some, not all. It's usually different songs on different records
that I've been playing for a long time I get tired of for a while. I didn't
want to play the songs from XO; I couldn't play "Waltz
2" . . . "XO" . . . or whatever that song is
called, because I played it too much. I couldn't hear it any more. But lately
I've been playing it again and it was fun. That'll probably last for a couple
of weeks; then I'll start not wanting to.
Q: Do you ever try to rearrange songs you're tired of?
A: I don't know, it's fun to play different versions of songs.
Particularly with this tour, which is an acoustic tour, so they're all, like,
simple. Just sort of like, here's the floor plan of this song.
Q: You recorded Figure 8 in LA.
A: Most of it. There was one weekend in Abbey Road in London. It
was great; it sounds good in there.
Q: Which songs were recorded at Abbey Road?
A: Three songs that made it onto the final album: "Stupidity
Tries," "In the Lost and Found," and "Pretty Mary K."
Q: That brings us to the perhaps inevitable Beatles comparison.
Their influence is strong on Figure 8 without being obvious.
A: Well, yeah, the "White Album" was where it was at for me when I
was six years old. It's bound to come out one way or another. I'm not trying to
sound like them or whatever, but melodically they were it.
Q: You studied political philosophy in college? One would think
art or music college was more your scene.
A: I didn't want to go to music school at all. Although some people
are cool with it. I don't know, I got a job as a baker after that.
Q: Political philosophy didn't last long then?
A: No, I mean, you couldn't get a job with it, you know? You just
keep going to school forever, I guess.
Q: You turned 30 last August. Was it a big resounding moment or
just another birthday?
A: When it happened, it wasn't just another birthday. It was kind
of weird until the day I turned 30, then it didn't matter any more.
Q: Are you comfortable with it?
A: The funny thing is, I didn't want to be younger, I just didn't
want to get older. I didn't want to have to feel like I was older. I wanted
time to keep passing and learn more things and get better at different things,
but I just didn't want to have to feel the label of being older. But there is
nothing to be done about it.
Q: Do you listen to much music outside of your own?
A: Yeah, I'm the kind of person who listens to one record over and
over again pretty much until you can't anymore. Lately it's been Nico, The
Marble Index. It's had a hold on me the last several months, it's a very
cool record, there's just like, this static thing about it. Things are moving
around but it's kind of like a trench, it puts me in a trench, which I like.
Q: Do you find time for hobbies?
A: I have in the past. Not in the last year. Sometimes I read a
lot, then I don't for a while. Not because I don't want to, but I just can't
get it together. I don't know other than that. I spend a lot of time just
thinking about different parts or songs. That's my normal daydream state.
Q: Do you ever read your own press?
A: Sometimes I look at something, but it's better for me not to.
It's too weird.
n
Elliott Smith performs this Tuesday, May 16, at Lupo's Heartbreak Hotel. Call
272-LUPO.