Few artists have left behind a body of work that’s as cherished and revered yet reflective of their creator’s poignantly troubled state of mind than Elliott Smith.

The full breadth of his recorded output, whether it was the scratchy home recordings of his breakout years through to his triumphant major label debut XO or the posthumous collection From A Basement On The Hill, was all intrinsically tied to exposing the very private but vulnerable elements of Smith’s own personality.

Which is why, 10 years after his tragic demise, there remains a somewhat unsatisfying closure to his passing – was it a tragic suicide or something more sinister?

Yesterday marked a decade since Smith’s untimely death, where he was found dead in his apartment with two stab wounds to the chest. While his struggles with depression, drug addiction, and alcoholism suggested a logical point to a tough existence, conflicting evidence at the scene of the influential songwriter’s death and the bizarre circumstances leading up to it have led to a perpetual question mark hovering around his passing over the years.

As music blogger Alan Cross details, there was indeed a suicide note found on the night of 21st October, 2003, where Smith’s girlfriend Jennifer Chiba – who had finished the latest of many painful rows with her 34-year-old partner – burst out of the bathroom she’d locked herself into to find Smith slumped in the doorway with a knife plunged in his chest.

Subsequent police reports say Chiba pulled out the knife while paramedics were called to the scene, albeit too late, with Smith later dying from his chest wounds in hospital. “10 years after his tragic demise, there remains a somewhat unsatisfying closure to Elliott Smith’s passing – was it a tragic suicide or something more sinister?”

The circumstances have led to some finger-pointing directed Chiba’s way, with music blog Rock NYCs views reflective of a number of wider conspiracy theories, that point out that Smith managing to plunge a blade “5-7 inches” deep into his chest, “was not an easy thing to do,” as well as said implement being confiscated by police as a blurring the lines between suicidal tool and murder weapon of the last person who saw Smith alive.

An in-depth retrospective from SPIN doesn’t so much dredge up ‘whoddunit?’ scenarios as it does explore the tragic circumstances of Smith’s demise by interviewing those who knew Smith best, including multi-instrumentalist turned acclaimed film composer Jon Brion, who played on XO, collaborator/producer/musician David McConnell, as well as Jennifer Chiba herself.

But even spurred on by such detailed accounts from Smith’s inner circle, the SPIN article – originally written in the year following the songwriter’s death but not published until the 10th anniversary of his passing – can’t offer much more than the dormant results of the investigation all those years ago: “And then, nothing. No new information. No arrests. ‘The case is still an open investigation,’ says LAPD Detective James King.”

The answer may as well be the same now, a decade later, no arrests have been made, no new substantial information has changed the outcome of Smith’s passing, where even a font of journalism like The Guardian labels the musician’s death a mystery, again citing the coroner’s report that indicated Smith was clean of drugs in his system, tossing up all sorts of questions and concerns.

While his mysterious death may be an ongoing fascination, it’s one that doesn’t detract from Elliot Smith’s powerful legacy (perhaps anymore than it does enhance it). The impact of his inspiration on a whole generation of artists may not be easily measured, but its certainly felt.

It’s easily demonstrated in the outpourings and testimonials sourced by Stereogum for their own 10th anniversary piece, gathering tributes from the likes of Band Of Horses, Here We Go Magic, Marissa Nadler, and more of the indie cognoscenti that were so enraptured by Smith’s legacy.

The same potent, poignant pull of his songcraft is as strong now as the day he committed it to tape, and as our Tone Deaf writer reflected in celebration of the 15th anniversary of XOthe body of work Smith left behind contains a “brilliance only serves to further highlight the striking talent that we tragically lost a decade ago.”

In his deathless tune ‘Waltz #2’, from the same album and arguably Smith’s most well-known song, the songwriter “sums up this devastating loss better than any of us can: “I’m never going to know you now, but I’m going to love you anyhow.”  

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