Elliot Smith, Figure 8

Many years ago I was hired to play the birthday party of my then-girlfriend's best friend. About a week later I got dumped, but the gig was still on. I decided that I would try to win her back the same way I got her, with my music. After hearing my silky voice and passionate guitar she would, by the end of the night, run into my arms and beg for forgiveness.

She arrived about four songs in during, ironically, Dylan's "Don't Think Twice, It's Alright." Though I didn't play it specifically with her in mind (it was a regular part of my first set), by the time I hit the last verse I was staring directly at her. Unfortunately, she didn't notice because she was too busy staring at the guy she left me for. I caught up with her during a break and we exchanged awkward pleasantries. For about a month--okay, five months--afterwards, every gig was filled with songs about her.

When I first heard Elliott Smith's "Waltz #2," I relived that evening. It perfectly encapsulated the mindset of the musician seeking a paradoxical dichotomy of solace and revenge through his music: singing "Cathy's Clown" and "You're No Good" while acknowledging that, as his personal life spins further out of control, he continues to play on because it's the only thing over which he has complete control.

Most every article I've read about Elliott Smith uses the word "slacker" somewhere in the text. Personally, I don't see it, and I'm guessing it's a ploy by music critics to get teenagers to buy his CDs. If anything, he's a pure craftsman, a modern version of mid-70's Paul Simon: melancholy lyrics, sweet melodies, intricate arrangements, and complex chord changes. But Smith also has a venomous streak, which coupled with his Beatlesque harmonies, makes him a natural favorite of us Elvis Costello freaks here at PCC.

On Smith's latest CD, Figure 8, all the tools that made X/O one of 1997's best releases are present: it's produced by the same people (Tom Rothrock and Rob Schnapf), contains 16 solid songs, and Pete Thomas plays drums on three cuts, always a sign of quality.

So why does it come across as a letdown?

Maybe it's the lack of a centerpiece, that one song that stands out from the rest of the pack and grabs the listener's attention for a few minutes every time it comes on. "LA" is probably the best song here, but for all its musical punch, it needs a killer line to make it stick like X/O's "Bottle Up And Explode!" "Stupidity Tries" has killer hooks but comes up a bit short on the chorus. "Son of Sam," the opening track, and "Pretty Mary K" are also standouts, but neither can carry the record.

Or perhaps it's that, since I first heard Smith with X/O, this CD doesn't offer the thrill that you get when you hear something new and fresh. It's the difference between a first date and a twenty-third date.

And that's the problem with music critics. No matter how good an album somebody puts out, and Figure 8 is a fine one, there will always be a snob like me who always wants to be blown away.