Il debutto solista di Elliott Smith è il classico Cd da ascoltare in una notte insonne, tra un pacchetto di sigarette da svuotare e un bicchiere di Johnny Walker. Musicalmente tanto semplice quanto intrigante, registrato su un domestico quattro piste, “Roman candle” conquista principalmente per l’intimismo che sprigiona il cantautore di Portland. Voce e chitarra acustica, occasionalmente una chitarra elettrica per puntellare i momenti più drammatici. Suoni tanto autentici da sembrare provenire da una stanza attigua.
Come un Nick Drake cresciuto nell’era grunge. Non carinerie da college à la Belle & Sebastian, ma testi crudi e scenari inquietanti: “Roman Candle” suona come l’ideale colonna sonora della spettrale Portland dipinta da Gus Van Sant in “My Own Private Idaho”. “Condor Avenue” è la highway 61 della metropoli dell’Oregon, ideale punto di incontro di improbabili personaggi all’inseguimento di chimere. Versi come “She took the oldsmobile out past condor avenue / the fairground's lit / a drunk man sits by the gate she's driving through / got his hat tipped bottle back in between his teeth / looks like he's buried in the sand at the beach” sembrano davvero usciti dalla penna di Dylan.
Oppure “Drive All Over Town”, disperato inseguimento notturno della sua amata, che sembra provenire dal set di “Drugstore Cowboy”.
Le melodie qui non sono ancora quelle levigate e smussate – memori di influenze beatlesiane – che faranno risplendere opere come “Either Or” o “Xo”. I suoni sono claustrofobici e squadrati – appena mitigati qua e là dal fantasma di Paul Simon – e lo si evince fin dai titoli. Ben quattro episodi recitano “No Name #” come dicitura, e non si saprebbe dire quale di questi sia più ammaliante nella loro desolata sinteticità.
I testi non sono da meno, anche quando i riferimenti alle droghe lasciano spazio a rapporti interpersonali complessi e sfigurati.
Illuminanti in tal senso sono i versi della title track: “I'm hallucinating / I hear you cry / your tears are cheap / wet hot red swollen cheeks /fall asleep / I want to hurt him / I want to give him pain / I'm a roman candle / my head is full of flames". Oppure in “No Name # 2”: “ I’m lying here on the ground / a strip of wet concrete / her name was just a broken sound / a struffle step you hear when you're falling down / killing time won't stop this crying”.
Il meglio arriva però alla fine. "Last Call” è una morbosa e disperata cavalcata, solcata da un’abrasiva chitarra elettrica. “And I wanted her to tell me that she would never wake me” ripete disperato Smith, prima di chiosare, esanime, "I’m lying here waiting for sleep to over take me”.
“Kiwi Maddog" suggella l’album con un inusitato pezzo strumentale, vivacizzato da sorprendenti chitarre country – psichedeliche. Singolare quanto una Cattedrale nel deserto.
Elenco tracce testi e video
01 Roman Candle (03:37)
he played himself
didn't need me to give him hell
he could be cool and cruel to you and me
knew we'd put up with anything
i want to hurt him
i want to give him pain
i'm a roman candle
my head is full of flames
i'm hallucinating
hallucinating
i hear you cry
your tears are cheap
wet hot red swollen cheeks
fall asleep
i want to hurt him
i want to give him pain
i'm a roman candle
my head is full of flames
i want to hurt him
i want to hurt him
i want to hurt him
i want to give him pain
and make him feel this pretty burn
02 Condor Ave. (03:34)
she took the oldsmobile out past condor avenue
and she locked the car and slipped past
into rhythmic quietude
lights burning
voice dry and hoarse
i threw the screen door like a bastard back and forth
the chimes fell over each other
i fell onto my knees
the sound of the car driving off made me feel diseased
a sick shouting like you hear at the fairground
now i'm picking up to put away anything of your's that's still around
i don't know what to do with your clothes or your letters
it'll make a whisper out of you
she took the oldsmobile out past condor avenue
the fairground's lit
a drunk man sits by the gate she's driving through
got his hat tipped bottle back in between his teeth
looks like he's buried in the sand at the beach
i can't think about you driving off to leave barely awake
to take a little nap while the road is straight
i wish that car had never been discovered
they took away the bottle and the hat he was under
that's the one thing that he could never do
and it'll make a whisper out of you
she took the oldsmobile out past condor avenue
cops were running around the scene
looking for some kind of clue
they never get uptight when a moth gets crushed
unless a light bulb really loved him very much
i'm lying down
blowing smoke from my cigarette
little whisper smoke signs that you'll never get
you're in your oldsmobile driving by the moon
headlights burning bright ahead of you
and someone's burning out, out on condor avenue
trying to make a whisper out of you
what a shitty thing to say
did you really mean it?
you never said a word to me about what passed between us
so now i'm leaving you alone
you can do whatever the hell you want to
na, na, na, na, na, na.
03 No Name #1 (03:03)
at a party he was waiting
looking kind of spooky and withdrawn
like he could be underwater
the mighty mother with her hundred arms
swept all aside
i hate to walk behind other people's ambition
i saw you waiting
saint like
with your warning
leave alone
you don't belong here
he got nervous
started whistling
every thought a ricochet
did you notice?
well i wondered
what's the worst thing i could say?
and i froze up and sighed
you remind me of someones daughter
i forgot her
i forgot her name ashamed
go home and live with your pain
leave alone
leave alone 'cos you know you don't belong
you don't belong here
and when i go
don't you follow
leave alone
leave alone 'cos you know you don't belong
you don't belong here
slip out quiet
nobody's looking
leave alone
you don't belong here
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