Recently I went through an Elliot Smith phase. I came late to him. I had records but didn’t play them a lot. I need things to age. He aged too much. A girl said to me, “Elliot Smith killed himself? That’s so nineties!” I wanted to smack her.
I did a reading with him way back, I’m pretty sure. During my book tour in 1997 we went to a college town that was having some sort of festival. I read at the same place he played, just him and a guitar. I saw him afterwards, him and a girl looking sullen and proud. At least I think it happened. It could’ve been a dream, but I almost swear.
One of the things I don’t like so much about Elliot Smith is the sterility of the playing. The session musicians are too good, they need a little Ringo sloppiness. They sound like they're playing for him, not with him. But he plays all that guitar stuff himself. He was a great guitar player:
Same song, with a band:
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1 comments:
By the way, the drummer from the Walt Mink post below played with Elliot Smith. He was lucky.
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