Smith’s songs show emotional duality

Pain is only bad when it doesn’t lead to something beautiful. And when that beauty is manifested in tortured, cathartic music it becomes really hard to talk about.

Elliott Smith played at the Henry Fonda Theater Friday and Saturday night. His music was devastating, but only in the best of ways. As probably the greatest singer-songwriter of our generation, he lyrically and melodically expresses the human experience intensely, without losing the private, personal edge or crossing over to cliche. But when he tried to talk about his songs, his words weren’t up to the challenge.

Smith, who is known for his flighty stage antics, was gorgeously emotionally resonant during his songs, and nearly unintelligible during his stage banter.

Opening for Smith both nights was Rilo Kiley. Led by the wailing vocals of Jenny Lewis, this band played some serious pop. With bouncy hooks and a whole lot of infectious energy, Rilo Kiley far outdid its studio sound and provided a good contrast to Smith’s more subdued sets.

On Friday Smith played mostly new material. The new songs didn’t stray from Smith’s catalogue – amazing lyrics, killer acoustic guitar and soul-wrenching vocals. Basically, the show furthered the already rabid anticipation of a new Smith album, rumored to be a double-album summer release.

Friday’s crowd was terrible, however, shouting incessantly at Smith. People complained of his not standing up (he didn’t have a guitar strap and sat through his sets both nights) and was even so audacious as to yell comments about illicit substances, a terrible affront to a sensitive artist who has had a notoriously hard time staying sober. Friday’s show was amazing, but Smith often seemed flustered and nervous with his own presence on stage. He played a reasonably short set, followed by two lengthy encores.

This format was followed Saturday night as well, but instead of mostly new songs, Smith trotted out the hits, and a few live treats, including “The Enemy is You,” “Christian Brothers,” and surprisingly, a cover of Oasis’ “Supersonic” as well. But while it would be impossible to complain about hearing songs like “Miss Misery” and “Independence Day” there was an immediate freshness to the new songs Friday night that was in some ways more fulfilling to hear. All of the songs were powerful, but to get to hear new Elliott Smith lyrics live from his mouth was intense.

Saturday night Smith was more responsive and happy with the crowd. His mumbling sounded more like actual sentences, and the crowd was more respectful. He had trouble remembering some songs, but talked himself and the crowd through the lyrics and chords he was having trouble with, including an excellent version of the “Either/Or” album track “Alameda.”

Smith’s mumbling often referred to his songs as sad, but not really all sad – he said that sometimes sad songs can be happy. This was, of course, the least eloquent he was either night, but any observant audience member immediately knew what he was talking about. Smith’s songs and sound taps into brutally melancholy places, but the listener and the music emerge together from the dark places somewhere a little closer to the light – to human connection and understanding, which is what all the best songs are about anyway.