"In vacant or in pensive mood..." I am: Bekah; 24; Law Student / Favorite Things: Carbs (so there!), Johnny Damon, Smiling at babies, Grilled cheese, Comfortable silence / Favorite Supreme Court Justice: Brennan / Favorite Wilson: Owen by an inch / Today's Special: Song: Elliott Smith, "Bled White"; Quote: "You know, there's like a butt-load of gangs at this school. This one gang kept wanting me to join because I'm pretty good with a bowstaff." Please love me: mmbekah@yahoo.com


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Time of No Reply

So, Elliott Smith killed himself a few days ago. My sister called yesterday morning to tell me the news. If you know his music at all, it's obviously hard to be shocked. (A representative lyric would be: "My feelings never change a bit, I always feel like shit, I don't know why, I guess that I 'just do.'")

It would be easy to put Elliott Smith in the category of "troubled artists" like Nick Drake and Kurt Cobain, but I don't think that's very fair to him (or to the others, for that matter). He clearly had serious issues with overwhelming sadness and drug/alcohol abuse throughout his life--issues that inspired his music and ultimately compelled him to kill himself. But even though his suicide could be considered trite or melodramatic or selfish, his music was not. It was always honest, musically complex, and lovely. Elliott Smith was not vying for attention or looking for pity, and as a result his songs always had incredible sincerity. I haven't listened to those cds in a while, but I think I'll revisit them now. Yesterday, my coffeehouse played his music all day in homage. So very indie, I know. But I think it's appropriate to be a little sentimental. I did name my first car after him, you know.

But then again, something tells me he wouldn't want anyone to pay much attention to him at all.

"Everybody Cares, Everybody Understands"
by: Elliott Smith

everybody cares, everybody understands
yes everybody cares about you
yeah and whether or not you want them to
it's a chemical embrace that kicks you in the head
to a pure synthetic sympathy that infuriates you totally
and a quiet lie that makes you wanna scream and shout
so here i lay dreaming looking at the brilliant sun
raining it's guiding light upon everyone
for a moment's rest you can lean against the banister
after running upstairs again and again from wherever they came to fix
you in but always fear the city's finest follow right behind
you got a pretty vision in your head
a pencil full of poison lead
and a sickened smoke illegal in every town
so here i lay dreaming looking at the brilliant sun
raining its guiding light upon everyone
here i lay dreaming looking at the brilliant sun
raining its guiding light upon everyone
you say you mean well, you don't know what you mean
fucking ought to stay the hell away from things you know nothing about

posted by Bekah at 1:45 PM :: |