Elliott Smith's legacy is best spoken by his records. For all the emphasis placed on his unhappy backstory and the distressing nature of his death, Smith left behind a body of work that defies and exceeds any stereotyping. Sadness may be the easiest emotional current to pick up on in his songs, but Smith's expressive range was as wide as it was subtle; his music could be angry, funny, hopeful, and despondent, often at the same time. New Moon collects two CDs' worth of material recorded around the same time as 1995's Elliott Smith and its 1997 follow-up Either/Or, and unlike typical posthumous releases (not to mention second ones), is a genuinely worthy addition to a stunningly consistent catalog.

Part of what makes both Either/Or and 1998's XO so essential is Smith's avoidance of "classic album" compartmentalization; you don 't get "the sad song," followed by "the experimental song," followed by "the upbeat song." Smith didn't record specifically towards any album, he just recorded-- more or less constantly. At their inception, the songs compiled for New Moon were no less significant than those that wound up making the cut for Elliott Smith and Either/Or, and for the most part they're no less developed.

Smith's signature style is more musical than it is aesthetic; from the lo-fi folk of Roman Candle through the muscular chamber-pop of Figure 8, Smith's songwriting tics remain completely recognizable. New Moon is overflowing with characteristic melodic turns and unexpected chord changes, yet still covers a good deal of ground stylistically. The chugging acoustic guitar of "Big Decision" conjures Johnny Cash, while "New Monkey" subtly nods to a similarly titled Beatles song. Each song seems fully realized in its own right; for a 2xCD posthumous compilation, it's unbelievably refreshing to not pick up even the slightest whiff of exploitative barrel-scraping.

Like much of Smith's material from this era, New Moon is by and large quiet, acoustic, and emotionally complicated. It's easy to see why Smith's music earned him a reputation as a "sad sack," but such dismissals don't really hold up to any scrutiny. When asked whether he considered himself a "lo-fi" artist, Smith once responded that he simply didn't want the recording process to be "a drag." Smith's interest in the the expressive potential of recording comes through loud and clear on New Moon; even when the subject or tone of a song is depressing, it still carries an unmistakable note of joy.

Which is certainly not to say that New Moon finds him sounding "happy." Many of the songs here are almost unbearably melancholy, but their weight is the product of expert craft, not wanton self-indulgence. The coda of "Talking to Mary", in which Smith repeatedly intones "One day she'll go/ I told you so," would not be nearly as powerful without the subtle tension and movement in Smith's guitar part. "All Cleaned Out", which hints at the musical and lyrical concerns that Smith took up with XO, is made all the more affecting by a second vocal line that injects well-placed harmonies into an already memorable melody. Every musical decision on New Moon feels both intuitive and considered; never obtrusive or distracting, but thoroughly rewarding when examined in depth.

Nowhere is this clearer than on an early version of the career-making "Miss Misery". This is the fourth, and earliest, version of this song that I've heard, and it speaks to the incredible care and refinement that went into Smith's recordings. The melodic backbone of the song is definitely present on this version, as are formative fragments of the lyrics, harmonies, and arrangements. It's fascinating to hear this track in such an early stage, but downright humbling to connect the dots to the song it eventually became. Smith had an uncanny and arguably unmatched talent for developing his music to suit his ever-evolving arrangement and production techniques, and every intermediate version of "Miss Misery" makes perfect sense the way it's performed and recorded.

Phrases like "rare talent" are thrown around all the time these days, but this compilation makes painfully clear just how unique and valuable this music is. Smith's visionary qualities were not terribly flashy or transgressive, and his great musical gifts were not those of innovation. Instead, he steadily and quietly wrote, honed, and recorded a body of beautifully executed, deeply moving records not quite like any others. Consider him the patron saint of hobbyists, a talented and dedicated craftsman with a tireless love of the creative process.