when josh first introduced me to elliot smith a long time ago, my first reaction was that smith’s music sounded eerily similar to nick drake’s. but i didn’t have one of those instant, “this is so unoriginal” judgmental moments; instead, i melted into smith’s voice with the same envy and lust that i’d experienced several years earlier when i heard about 30 seconds of drake’s “pink moon” on a volkswagen cabrio commercial. (that commercial remains among the most romantic i’ve ever seen. don’t know why. but seriously, i want to be in that car.)

their lives and deaths — decades and an ocean apart — definitely have some strange similarities. check out this sweet article on epitonic, which articulates what i’m getting at here. their musical styles, both brilliant and haunting, coupled with their relationships with drugs (drake died of an overdose at a young age; smith was an addict who died from what’s been called a suicide, but that’s questionable considering he allegedly committed suicide by stabbing himself in the heart with a kitchen knife…TWICE), are essentially the core of my argument.

why did two talented musicians have to take a bow so early? maybe there’s some strange allure to their early deaths and how people now react to their music knowing this fact. maybe i’m included.

anyway, i already was in love with drake; now, i’m in love with smith. i can’t stop listening. i haven’t been able to for a couple years now. every once in a while i get addicted to something new — like stars – but then i jump on a flight and stick some elliot in my ears and BLAMMO i’m smitten again.

and the tragedy inherent is that this musician — well, that both musicians — are done making music. these chord changes and sounds that raise goose bumps on my arms are all that i’ll have. until i fall in love with someone new.