Elliot Smith / XO by Molly Minturn Dreamworks Remember when we were all gathered around the amphitheater watching Good Will Hunting during orientation week? Well, as Matt Damon was riding along on the red line across the Charles River looking pretty and pensive on camera, there was a sad little voice singing in the background. That voice was one of the main reasons I found Good Will Hunting, with its completely unrealistic plot and Robin Williams' poor, poor attempt at a Boston accent, enjoyable. That voice was Elliott Smith. You've probably all heard Smith at one time or another. If you've never listened to the Good Will Hunting soundtrack, you may have seen him on TV, singing "Miss Misery" at the Oscars. He was up on stage standing in dim blue light, all alone with his guitar, looking slightly suicidal. Smith was fantastic; singing so earnestly that it felt like he was telling you a secret. He transcended all the cheesiness of the Academy Awards and made Celine Dion, with her chest-pounding and glittery Titanic necklace, look downright trashy. Most of Smith's songs on the Good Will Hunting soundtrack weren't written for the film. But it's impossible to imagine Minnie Driver sobbing in her room after Matt rejects her or Ben Affleck driving around South Boston in his rusty car without the strains of Smith's guitar in the background. Somehow Smith captured the whole feeling of the movie in his music without even trying. He completes Good Will Hunting just as Simon and Garfunkel completed The Graduate. Smith's new album basically contains that same melancholy feeling that I loved so dearly in his previous work. My favorite Smith songs are the ones where the music and lyrics mesh together perfectly to create a certain feeling that Smith isn't even necessarily writing about. In "Pitseleh," Smith quietly sings, "I got a joke I been dying to tell you / I'm not what's missing in your life right now / I could never be the puzzle pieces," while the guitar lopes gently downward. The whole song makes me feel like I'm watching rain pelt against my window or driving down a rural road in October. Then I'll wonder, hey, how did Elliott know my favorite road? That's the genius of Elliott Smith. When you listen to Smith's songs, you feel like you have some sort of personal connection to him, some shared experience or inside joke. Not all of the songs on XO are quite so soft and moody. The first track, "Sweet Adeline," starts off slowly, just like the old Elliot. Then halfway through drums start crashing, and Smith sounds slightly angst-filled. There's even a little bit of guitar feedback at the end. When I first listened to it, for one moment I wondered where his restraint had run off to. But I soon came to appreciate the song and now find my self nodding my head to the beat whenever the chorus begins. The only song I dislike is "Amity," the ninth song on this fourteen-track disk, where Elliott just sounds too whiny and you can't really hear his fun lyrics ("happy in New York City, Amity walking like a lucky charm / I'm a neon sign, I stay open all the time") over the crashing guitars. The focus of the song is Smith repeating "Amity Amity Amity" about nine times. Yikes. Smith tries out different themes in this albums. Two songs about failed love are written in the constrictive theme of a waltz (and are appropriately titled "Waltz #1" and "Waltz #2"). The result is haunting. Both songs sound beautifully old-fashioned. "Baby Britain" has its origins in 1960s rock, sounding quite similar to the Beatles, while "Bled White" has smooth guitar and steady bass, reminiscent of Smashing Pumpkins's "1979." The last song on the album, "I Didn't Understand," returns to the shy Elliott Smith style from the past. Smith sings with a group of friends, completely a capella: "You once talked to me about love and you painted pictures of a never-never land / and I couldn't have gone to that place / but I didn't understand. / I didn't understand." Ah, Elliott, you may claim not to understand, but somehow, you manage to make Matt Damon look smart, kick Celine Dion's butt, write achingly beautiful music, and fill my heart with joy. Thank you.

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