The Lingering Beauty of Elliott Smith

One of the last videos taken of Elliott Smith shows him at the Fonda Theatre, in Los Angeles. He’s sitting in a metal stacking chair, wearing faded dark pants and a T-shirt that says “I 💔 METAL.” He’s slumped over his guitar, and his hair is falling in his face, like it always did. His voice is weak and drowsy, like he might be on something, or coming off it. About forty-five minutes in, after he finishes up “Pretty (Ugly Before),” someone shouts from the audience, and Smith doesn’t quite catch the words. “Get a what?” he asks. “A backbone?” He tousles his hair as the comment starts to sink in. “Get a backbone?” he repeats. “What the fuck? I could tell you a dream I had last night, otherwise I can’t be more fuckin’ for real.”