Elliott Smith is one of those people that craft songs that sound immediately familiar. Of course, i’m not just realizing that now, since i’m already achingly familiar with his last disc, XO. I first came across it while in Anastasia’s bedroom. We’d just sit on her floor every sunday for hours, talking and watching movies and listening to tori and other music. Our big difference in taste was that i liked women, and she liked men. … Musically, that is. But, slowly we infringed upon each other’s taste. Suddenly Anastasia was listening to Dilate, and i was borrowing her copy of XO and listening to it in a stunned silence as i wondered how Elliott found noises for those empty places inside my own heart. Two years later i just bought two of her favourite discs from my senior year, and she’s in college somewhere in New York. And Elliott still invokes those familiar aches.
Two things i love about little earthquakes: 1 – this one note in “little earthquakes” that sounds totally unlike all the other ones around it. it sounds like a xylophone. maybe that one string is prepared… 2 – “tear in your hand,” which i never used to like until anastasia made me. the weird enunciation and total rip-off of “crazy for you” makes me melt every time.
I miss anastasia… or maybe i just miss the thought of her being here. i hadn’t really done anything with her since christmas break of freshman year, but i’ll always think of her as one of the best friends i’ve ever had. just hearing one sentence from her over the expanse of the internet makes my day worthy. The last time we spent time together we sat on her floor and she showed me her art portfolio from the program she had been in summer ’99. they all were spread out on her rug, and her pictures were amazing. i’m not a fan of photography, but her pictures made me just want to stare and stare at them without taking a breath. there was one that was from a series of self portraits, of the top half of her face with a bang of hair sweeping across her forehead. i told her that i wanted to use it for the cover of my demo. i didn’t have a demo at that point, or a strong intention to make one, but afterwards i went home and recorded the majority of what became other plans over the course of vacation. i never saw that picture again. my demo was dedicated to anastasia. i miss her.
sweet dear lord … my good friend anastasia just im-ed me from art school to proclaim:
ive meaning to tell- ani lived in my dorm