A few days ago I was in X-Ray Records trying to find something new. Just when I was about to leave, I decided to do a quick one-over of the new arrivals bin. It was there that I found Elliott Smith's New Moon. I'd only heard his name mentioned briefly in the conversation behind me at a show, but never any of his music. I decided "Why not?" It's a 2xLP for $25, at the very least it's a good deal. So I carried my kill home cradled lovingly in my arms, title obscured by the generic black bag from the record store.
I got home, put it on, and WAIT - what is this?
It just hit me. Every song was so beautiful & pure. He made it seem effortless to write something amazing. I marked out my favorites (Georgia, Georgia, First Timer, Riot Coming) then listened to it again. Then again. All night. It was the most intense musical experience I'd had since my discovery of Neutral Milk Hotel.
Then, after reading the liner notes, I found out that he had committed suicide. The songs began to take on new meanings and lines became increasingly chilling.
What plan
Suicide
It's just not that much different from my own affair
And I cried.
There's a difference between plain compassion and empathy. Compassion is saying "Oh, that must really be horrible. I'm so sorry". Empathy is matching up all the facts and figures, being completely taken and feeling like you too have experienced everything they've gone through, then saying "Oh, that must really be horrible. I'm so sorry" It's so hard to explain on a verbal level, but it can be communicated through the eyes, through touch, through the senses. Almost like it's on a metaphysical level.
But that's enough for today. I've been pretty transient with my journals lately, so I'd like to apologize to my friends here.
Elliott Smith & empathy.
August 5th, 2008 at 09:52pm