THE ROAD TO ELLIOTT

A quarter-century on from Figure 8, Elliott Smith's final studio record before his untimely passing, we shine a spotlight on one of America’s most enigmatic artists. The songwriter was taken too soon but left behind a compelling body of work. Felix Rowe joins two of his closest collaborators, Rob Schnapf and Larry Crane, to explore his output.

- Felix Rowe

On 23 March 1998, Elliott Smith commanded the biggest stage of his career, performing his Oscar-nominated song, Miss Misery, from the film Good Will Hunting, at the 70th Academy Awards. Dressed in a crisp white Prada suit, and backed by the house orchestra, it was a long way from the dive bars of Portland, Oregon, that he was accustomed to. In a few short years, he had risen from co-frontman of local heroes, Heatmiser, a muscular, vocal-shredding post-hardcore outfit, to intimate acoustic troubadour mingling among the A-listers — a story almost worthy of the Hollywood treatment itself.

Ultimately, the night would be remembered for a sinking ship. Titanic scooped 11 of its 14 nominations, with the ubiquitous My Heart Will Go On steaming through all in its wake in the Best Original Song category. Smith’s hushed, spindly lullaby, delivered in a whisper to intricately plucked acoustic guitar, couldn't be further from the unsubtle bombast of Celine Dion. Nevertheless, for a brief moment, Portland’s best-kept secret was thrust into the global spotlight, and seemingly everyone wanted a piece.

For many, such recognition would mark a career highlight. While undoubtedly a significant validation, Smith — indifferent to the vapid nature of fame — viewed it as a bemusing yet surreal curio. “It’s a dream come true,” he acknowledged to press at the time. “It’s just not my dream.”