Elliott Smith

From A Basement On The Hill

Why Can't I Stop Stabbing Myself?

Review Score:

(6/10)
It's amazing what artist can do from the grave these days. Tupac Shakur made an entire movie about his own death from inside a gold-plated coffin; John Lennon just released another acoustic rehash from the depths of hell; and on the one year anniversary of his questionable suicide, Elliott Smith delivers what we can only hope to be his last album, From a Basement on the Hill. The posthumous release contains 15 tracks totaling 57 minutes. Its release on Anti records perhaps confirms rumors that DreamWorks had dropped Elliott Smith after the release of his previous album, Figure 8, for poor sales and heavy drug abuse.

Elliott's earlier albums, back when he was with Kill Rock Stars, living in Portland, running the streets with Slim Moon, are often considered his best. Ironically, however, they are the same albums that closely detail his struggles as an artist coping with addiction, depression, and soured relationships. Obviously he has had plenty to write about, but as things improved for Elliott a little in Los Angeles with DreamWorks, his music changed a lot. His polished, major label debut, XO, was surprisingly well received by both old and new fans. Record sales were never high enough to keep the DreamWorks' executives happy, but XO gave the label some much needed credibility and Elliott some much needed cash.

Excited by the reception of XO, Elliott bought a few dozen instruments he didn't know how to play and began working on Figure 8, which did poorly and left a bad, over-produced aftertaste with his until-then following. Spurned by his failure, Elliott withdrew into his Los Feliz cottage for a long period of serious depression and equally serious heroin use.

The new album frankly strikes me as half an album. It sounds like he was working on a promising album and someone just stabbed him to death right in the middle. Not to say that his girlfriend killed him and there aren't good songs on the album. The acoustic tracks, Twilight, Let's Get Lost, A Fond Farewell, and Memory Lane are all great, cohesive tracks, which could be easily characterized as classic Elliott Smith.

The remaining tracks, however, were obviously never meant for release. They are poorly written songs muddied with some crummy electric guitar and, aside from Shooting Star, Pretty (Ugly Before), and A Passing Feeling, sound very much like leftovers from Figure 8.

The digipack booklet includes 3 pictures of Elliott Smith looking very sad, and some copies of his original hand-written lyrics to a few of the songs. The back cover has the track titles listed, which is nice, but is poorly laid-out and totally mismatched against the front cover. Aesthetics aside, From a Basement on a Hill is the last testament to a singer who was a voice for me and many others. I can't honestly give the album any kind of rating; I did, however, shell-out the fourteen big ones to own it.

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