Album Review: Elliott Smith - Roman Candle

It’s coming up to seven years since Elliott Smith’s untimely death, and nobody is quite sure how to define Smith’s legacy. Perhaps this is because the two posthumous releases - From a Basement on the Hill and New Moon appeared to be unfinished reminders of Smith’s talents as a songwriter, leaving plenty of unanswered questions. It’s fair to see that during the sessions for From a Basement… Smith was a man entrenched in his own head, fighting numerous battles. His vision as a musician was severely tainted.

Maybe now is the right time to revisit Smith’s early work. I’ve already covered this album in some detail, so talking about this re-issue will focus more on Elliott Smith’s legacy than the album itself.

Inevitably when people first get into Elliott they hear of his untimely demise, the brutally honest anecdotes about Smith’s state of mind, and the inconclusive nature of his death. It adds an uncomfortable layer to the listening experience, with hurt bleakly lingering in the background. A newcomer to Sparklehorse will most likely notice a similar eeriness after Mark Linkous’s dramatic suicide earlier this year, the sound of black clouds gathering, the uncompromising shock of stark lightning bolts.

Personally speaking, I came across Elliott the wrong way round. Hearing Either/Or and XO long before I visited his early albums. Then I got heavily into Heatmiser (Mic City Sons, in particular) and Figure 8, before finally going backwards and arriving at Roman Candle. The journey through his discography was a rocky one, with his music an integral soundtrack to my own moments of misery and despair.

I remember how much the opening track haunted me, the sound of Smith’s fingers clumsily hitting the guitar strings with an intimacy I have never experienced before as a listener, Smith’s voice seemed close, much too close “I want to hurt him / I want to give him pain / I’m a Roman Candle / My head is full of flames”. The intensity of the recording is overwhelming.

Even on such an early release Smith comes across as a confident storyteller, and though his delivery is soft, he is able to paint vivid stories that document domestic dramas. The fallout on ‘Condor Ave’, the sense of loneliness and inferiority on ‘No Name #1’, the great escape tale of Mother and son on ‘No Name #4’. Such themes were to be revisited numerous times on later releases.

‘Last Call’ is the one truly great song on the album, a timeless, contemptuous classic. When I mentioned legacy earlier in the piece, a song such as this stands alone as an example of Smith’s song writing abilities. As we came to expect from an Elliott Smith song, there was nothing hidden, everything was bravely out in the open. Smith was able to mine the private for fool’s gold. It is also the most fleshed out track on the album in terms of production, sowing the seeds for his later work.

Since Kill Rock Stars acquired the rights to Roman Candle, it really is a no brainer to quickly dust the album off and put it out for a new wave of consumption. Alongside the From a Basement…. re-issue it appears the label are trying to bridge a gap, presenting the beginning and end of Elliott Smith. Larry Crane, Smith’s archivist, re-masters the album with great care, merely tidying up some of the more glaring faults and finger picked squeaks, and turning Elliott’s voice up just ever so slightly.

As we look back upon the life and career of Elliott Smith, we can charmlessly sit him next to Nick Drake in heaven, or we can lament that he was unable to become the Dylan of our generation, but it is important to acknowledge first and foremost his contribution to warts and all song writing. He was a man who was able to showcase his faults constructively.