As we all know by now, heaven and hell do not exist, God is a figment of our collective imagination, and all religion is horseshit. When you die you become a ghost, simple as that. Your primary objective as a ghost? To haunt people. While there is undoubtedly a learning curve, most notably portrayed in such prophetic films as Ghost and Ghost Dad, a majority of all ghosts are able to get the hang of it after 6-8 months. But in the curious case of indie rock darling Elliott Smith, 22 years of ghostdom has produced scant results.
In his mortal form, Elliott quickly established himself as a talented singer-songwriter with a knack for sensitive, heartfelt lyrics and melodies that at times could evoke the Beatles or the Kinks. But in the afterlife, Elliott has proven to be hella weak at haunting people.
“That sensitive guy shit does not fly out here,” an anonymous spirit whispered to me in an abandoned burn ward. “Most of these singer-songwriter types struggle at first, but eventually get the hang of it. Like that dude from Sparklehorse has all these dank-ass chains now that he rattles. And Nick Drake is basically the Michael Jordan of haunting in our realm, he’s that good.”
Smit, on the other hand, has not acclimated to ghost life well at all. Being aloof and apathetic may have served as a boon for him in the ‘90s but these traits are anathema in ghost culture because ghosts are already invisible. Years of stage fright have seemingly manifested into what ghost psychologists refer to as crippling haunt-fright. Instead of joining his ghost colleagues in games of merriment and terrifying spooks, he just fingerpicks his ghost guitar all day, which is totally pointless because the strings are invisible and make no sound.
Indeed, over the past two decades, records indicate he has only been credited to a measly 1.5 haunts — a dog that he didn’t mean to scare and the bass player for Built To Spill who he kinda thought was a dick. Sadly, the Silverlake home where he stabbed himself in the chest, most ghosts’ bread and butter, remains unhaunted and reportedly houses a perfectly content Vietnamese family.
His anti-social behavior and disengagement in the ghost community has led critics to wonder if he could possibly be at risk of ghostbusting himself. The question weighs heavy on my heart but for now the truth remains — we ain’t afraid of no ghost named Elliott Smith.