Elliott Smith “From A Basement On The Hill”
Anti
“From A Basement On The Hill,” the new and final
album by Elliott Smith, is heavy with mixed emotions. Like few
artists in recent memory, Smith has always written songs that reach
the very depths of the soul. Will the 14 songs of
“Basement,” disembodied from the man himself, be too
painful to listen to in light of Smith’s death last fall? Or
will the album be his last hurrah, a career-ending masterpiece
worthy of the rest of his catalog? With either perspective, the
album will be impossible to divorce from the man or his untimely
death. “Basement” captures an artist at the height of
his musical powers and at the bottom of his emotional state. Smith
had tottered on the brink of disaster for years, which was no
secret to fans who have heard his tortured lyrics or seen his
brilliant but inconsistent live shows. The songs that make up
“Basement” range from recent compositions to concert
standbys from as far back as 1998. With over 30 nearly completed
songs to choose from, the album was finished and compiled by
long-time producer Rob Schnapf with the help of Joanna Bolme, an
ex-girlfriend and past collaborator. The album kicks off with
“Coast To Coast,” a Zeppelin-esque rocker whose searing
guitars and vocals underscore lyrics about forgetting the past.
“Let’s Get Lost,” a return to the bedroom folk of
his early work, offers impassioned singing of a different style.
“I had true love/I made it die/I pushed her away/She said,
“˜Please stay’/Burning every bridge that I cross/To find
some beautiful place to get lost,” Smith sings over
shimmering guitar lines and stunning harmonies. Much like his
beloved Beatles, Smith’s songs are so good that anything more
than his voice and guitar is often unnecessary; that being said,
“Basement” may be Smith’s most musically
ambitious album of all. “King’s Crossing” is a
surreal, sweeping narrative that opens with murmuring voices and is
anchored by echoing drums, while in “Don’t Go
Down,” Smith’s voice floats over a sea of distorted
guitars and crashing cymbals. “Pretty (Ugly Before)”
takes a page from The Beatles’ songbook circa “Abbey
Road.” Despite the transitions from desperate electric
maelstroms to gentle folk songs and back again, the album is held
together by Smith’s fantastic song craft and attention to
melody. His voice has never sounded clearer than it does on the
harmonies of “Twilight,” a remorseful, bittersweet ode
to the perils of drug addiction and lost opportunities. Throughout
the album, Smith dwells on the lyrical themes that define his
discography, from the demons of addiction to love lost and found,
as well as a surprising foray into politics on “A Distorted
Reality Is Now A Necessity To Be Free.” Though his songs have
always been dark, the words are often surprisingly blunt; Smith had
nothing left to hide. Taken for its own artistic merits,
“From A Basement On The Hill” is Smith’s best
album since “Either/Or” and should have no trouble
finding a comfortable position among the best albums of the year.
Perhaps “Fond Farewell,” a staple of Smith’s
final live shows, says it best: “A little less than a happy
high/A little less than a suicide/The only things that you really
try/This is not my life/It’s just a fond farewell to a
friend/It’s not what I’m like/It’s just a fond
farewell to a friend/Couldn’t get things right/A fond
farewell to a friend.” “From A Basement On The
Hill” is much more than just a goodbye. As a window into the
last few years and even the final days of the life of the most
compelling, genuine songwriter of his generation, Elliott
Smith’s swan song is a heart-wrenching masterpiece.
-David Greenwald