Following a compelling artistic arc album by album is perhaps, at least for music nerds, the strongest evidence there is for predetermination. Some stories are so perfect they must have been fated to be all along: The Beatles’ transformation from the mop-headed fab four to bearded artistic trailblazers, Radiohead’s journey from “Creep” to Kid A and beyond, or Elliott Smith’s transformation from reserved indie hero to pop perfectionist. Charting out Smith’s story, one record jumps out as the line in the sand, the marker of his metamorphosis – XO. Turning 25 this year (on August 25th), the album captures a fleeting moment of Smith’s noticeable but logical change in 14 perfectly constructed, emotional songs.
The first leg of Smith’s solo career saw the artist penning beautifully depressive acoustic ballads that often featured little more than his signature double-tracked guitars and vocals. Recorded at friends’ houses, basements, or wherever else was available at the time, Roman Candle and his self-titled effort showcased an artist who could capture the essence of melancholy in melody like no one else. Then came Either/Or, a perfect realization of everything he had been building to since singing his first whispered verse.
Either/Or would prove to be Smith’s last statement as an underground, underfunded troubadour. Called up to the majors, XO came with a bigger budget, a bigger profile (the use of “Miss Misery” in Good Will Hunting had made the anxious songwriter a surprise star), and a bigger sound. Smith must have been conscious of this all, as opener “Sweet Adeline” seems meticulously designed to ease those familiar with his previous work into his new era. What starts as a classic Smith track — simply him and his six-string — suddenly bursts open with drums, piano, and full orchestration 90 seconds in.
The rest of the record follows suit, building upon the sensitive appeal of his songwriting with a host of new bells and whistles. Songs like “Bled White,” “Amnity,” and “A Question Mark” – in comparison to, say, “Needle in the Hay” or “Between the Bars” – might as well be raucous rockers fit for Elvis Costello (one of Smith’s heroes). “Oh Well, OK” and “Waltz No. 1” find Smith dramatizing his emotionality with the backing of luscious strings, while “Everybody Cares, Everybody Understands” and “Waltz, No. 2” are about as close as anyone has ever gotten to achieving Beatles-level pop divinity. In particular, the latter stands as one of Smith’s most heralded compositions – and for damn good reason, as the tune holds a tight grip on your heart while somehow managing to force your hips to swing.
Thus, the story of XO, a record that served as Smith’s commercial level-up and the bridge between his first leg of records and the pop excellence of Figure 8.
Except, of course, reality isn’t as clean as scrolling through an artist’s discography on Spotify. This narrative of minimalist-to-maximalist, while capturing plenty of truth and making for an engaging tale, ignores massive aspects of the story of Elliot Smith.
For starters, Smith didn’t begin his artistic career crafting songs as soft, sweet, and immediate as “No Name #3” or “Say Yes.” As early as high school, Smith was rocking out with his friends, making loud noises and experimenting with convention, as alternatively-inclined kids have done for ages. Then, there’s Heatmiser, Smith’s indie/alternative, “folk-grunge” band that immediately predated and even overlapped with his solo career. Tracks like “Antonio Carlos Jobim,” “Dirt,” or “Get Lucky” are more than enough proof that Smith had the capacity to front songs with greater dynamics and greater volume all along.
