Tuesday night sketches

So last night I stopped by and saw Ólöf Arnalds, recently seen/heard on this blog when Stu hosted (there's been a lot of press for Brian Wilson's latest project, but whenever I hear about it, I get Ólöf's really lovely version stuck in my head). Credit to her, she packed the house--quite an achievement for a relatively unknown artist on a Tuesday night. Credit also to Stu who pretty much single-handedly organized the show, and got a shout out to boot.

After I got home, Amy asked me with some genuine concern, "What's wrong? Are you depressed?" I said, "What in the world do you mean, I'm fine!" She said, "Why so much Elliott Smith on the blog this week then?" This is a strange thing about liking Elliott Smith's music, and I don't think Amy's concern was unusual at all. His tunes are so majestic, his technique is really masterful, yet he sounded pretty miserable on almost every song he did. I mean, if you can be accused of being depressed just for listening to him, I can only imagine what it must have been like to be him, where everyone just assumes you're a miserable bastard. I tried to pull interesting bits out of these interviews, but the tone of so many of them were oppressive: "Why are you so sad?" "When are you going to start writing happy songs?" "Does being depressed help you write?" "Is the new album going to be as lonely sounding as the last one?" Over and over.