he gave us the words that we couldn’t find when we were sad, and he may have left just enough out of it so that it could occupy anytime period, any relationship, and that always makes something live beyond you.
“Speaking of someone who can never be
forgotten, I would like to bring up Elliott Smith. I used to watch him
transform on your stage. He may not have wanted to perform, but you had a
gentle way of reminding him how much he needed to. It went from not
being sure whether he’d get on stage to being hopeful that it may not
come to an end. Those were special nights. And, in addition to Elliott
Smith, you offered us the space to experience the deep friendship
between Elliott Smith and Jon Brion. It seemed as if they felt, on some
level, that they were the only ones who understood each other. Jon had a
way of “being” with Elliott that seemed to put him at ease, or at least
make him feel significantly better. And Elliott had a way of sparking a
look of pure admiration and awe on Jon’s face when he’d sing “Say Yes”
with his eyes closed. This kind of experience can’t happen everywhere.
The moments that “happen” at Largo happen because you’ve created, and
consistently provide, the space and tone that are required for them to
“What if you’re unaware of the color around you, and you’re just walking through or leaning against the wall, and you don’t realize how electric it is? what if you are how everyone sees you and you don’t realize that the world is exploding in colors behind you?”
I think when you look at a photo of Elliott, where you wonder, “Why am I attracted to this person who doesn’t fit into my weird, stupid list of what is attractive to me?” you realize that none of it matters. It’s all about chemistry and electricity. It’s not perfection. Perfection is the problem.