To Produce, or Not To Produce...
While one can only respect the desire of an artist to continue to develop his or her work in an effort not to repeat the successes of the past, there too is the frustration that listeners to a particular musician's work can feel over the directions in which an artist one has gotten to know decides to move. So it is that upon listening to Elliott Smith's latest release, Figure 8, that the familiar mix of revelation and frustration presents itself via the scrim that Elliott's new Dreamworks enabled lavish production values places between musician and listenter. While Smith continues to amaze with his original melodies and lyrics, the album featuring some of his most piercing writing on relationships to date, I long for the understated (read: no frills) production of his first three releases. While doubtless aceticism is an aesthetic that Smith--a sensible lover of all things Beatles-- would have tired of after three records, it just so happens that the stripped down sound of a man, a voice, and a guitar, is the perfect way to experience his songs, as devotees of his live shows will certainly attest. Though it is adamantly unfair for me or any other listener to expect Elliott not to explore all the mutitrack magic Dreamworks Dollars can buy, it is my sincere opinion that as adept as Elliott is with all things musical, and although the seeds of great epic production are present in both XO and Figure 8, all too often, his great songs are being subsumed within the lush, cloying sweetness of overproduction. A case study in such excess is the metamorphosis of the B-side from the "Happiness" single, "Son of Sam", from the crisp melodic delivery on the single to the borderline Jeff Lynnization it receives as the lead off track on Figure 8, sounding terribly close to the piano intro on the "Real Love" afterbirth. I like the piano...but after that, the song's delicate strengths are bludgeoned under multitrack excess. So too so many of the songs on Figure Eight, that, heard in concert in NYC earlier in the year, were heartbreaking for the proximity of the emotions that voice/guitar deliver. As Nigel Godrich certainly has proven to me with his work on Radiohead, Beck, and Pavement albums, one can have heavy production without the heavyhandedness that too often prevails here. And it's a shame, really. The songs on Figure 8 are all 5-stars, but the production really drags my pleasure down. That said, of course, yes, you should buy this record, and listen to it carefully, your ears as close to the speakers as mom or your doctor will allow. You will grow to love it, but I wish old ES would start releasing his records in double CD format: CD1 featuring a gazillion overdubs, CD2 featuring the demos. One can dream, and search the Internet for those stripped down MP3's....
A french Point Of View
Well of course Elliott Smith has been praised for his two last records in France, and it will be the same for Figure 8. Regarding this album, my first impression was that his best songs are still in Either/Or, just like i thought with XO, even if Son of Sam and Pretty Mary K. are just wonderful. Maybe I need more time to be acquainted with this new album. His two last records contain many many very good songs actually. But None has reached the beauty of the first fifteen minutes of Either/Or.Elliott Smith seems to be able to write one good song a day. He never makes a BAD song. He CANNOT be compared to Michael Penn or Aimee Mann.That's why it's hard to judge his career. Because if he keeps making such records, he will have to make another MASTERPIECE. And not the new brand Elliott SMith LP that everyone will be eager to buy. Indeed each new Smith's album is a great achievement. The next five years will tell us if elliott smith will be the John Lennon of the new century...
brilliant and beautiful
Figure 8 is a soundscape of its own. Lushly and crisply produced, each song resonates in its own way. Many Elliott Smith fans feel that the sound encompassed by Figure 8 is of a lower integrity or quality than Elliott's earlier music, such as the famously "lo-fi" Roman Candle. Figure 8 shows Elliott crafting rich arrangements eerily reminiscent of the Beatles--especially the soaring penultimate track, "Can't Make A Sound". Elliott's voice is lush and startling on this album; I do miss his certain qualities of it that were present on his earlier, starker albums. Figure 8 is addictive.
A Tortured Genius
Elliot Smith is a pure musical genius. His music is as pure and honest as music can be. This album is one to be treasured. You will not be disappointed.
Fine pop
An impressive suite of perfect gestures, 15 remarkably meticulous and dazzling aerian ballets of 3 minutes each. 15 songs straight from heaven. Elliott Smith was simply the best songwriter of his generation in the US.
The story of Elliott Smith is well known now: Shy and reclusive indie rocker soars to a Hollywood soundstage and major-label contract. His fans gasped in collective horror when he took a bow at the 1998 Oscars, his hand clasped by Celine Dion. He seemed far too fragile to survive among the sharks and vultures on the corner of Hollywood and Vine. But as his subsequent albums XO and now Figure 8 show, Smith has weathered the spotlight successfully and is moving ahead with self-assured grace. The beauty of Figure 8 is that it encompasses Smith's musical virtues, from the stark and wispy tunes of his lo-fi beginnings on Roman Candle to the orchestrated, Beatlesesque pomp and circumstance of later work to the intimate and sometimes painful nature of his live shows. Figure 8's opener, "Son of Sam," is as good as anything Smith has ever crafted, its soaring melody buoyed with lush instrumentation and a tin-pan-alley piano romp. "Happiness" is vintage Smith, its lyrics belying the title. But best of all are "Everything Reminds Me of Her" and "Everything Means Nothing to Me," which capture the dichotomies of Smith's music. The first is a lovely, delicate little tune--just Smith's wavering voice, a plucked guitar, and the plaintive lyrics of unabashed longing. The second is a layered soundscape, heavily produced, with washes of music covering a repeated lyrical line. One is direct, naked, and honest; the other is slippery, distant, and rational. These are the yin and yang of Smith's music, and it's the friction between the two--or, more accurately, the wreckage from one obdurate truth bashing up against the other--that makes Figure 8 resonate with such devastating power. --Tod Nelson
