This past Tuesday, the world of music lost another great. He may not be as well known as the indomitable Man in Black, Johnny Cash, or even punk rock grandfather Joe Strummer, who have both passed within these previous months. The man of whom I speak was a personal idol, so I'll try my best to eulogize him and try to ease these feelings of gloom and sorrow.

Steven Paul Smith, better known as Elliott Smith, was found dead in his Los Angeles home with a single self-inflicted stab wound at the age of 34. This news came as shock to me, because I have been anticipating his upcoming album and not his demise. Unfortunately, suicide tends to surface in rock 'n' roll fairly often. Many immediately think back to the death of Kurt Cobain. While Smith may not have gotten the attention and idolization of Cobain and Nirvana, he remains just as important to the music community.

Smith is best known for his work on the soundtrack for the movie Good Will Hunting. His mellow acoustic songs that often deal with misery and suffering were an appropriate musical backdrop to a movie that deals largely with overcoming pains of child abuse. His song Miss Misery received a good deal of attention, leading to an Academy Award nomination in 1998. His track Needle in the Hay was featured in The Royal Tenenbaums when the character Ritchie Tenenbaum graphically slashes up his wrists with a razor blade. This already touching scene is eerily heightened when Smith's guitar and voice sigh a tune that feels as though the song was written for the scene alone, even though it had been written seven years prior. His music just had a way of timelessly depicting emotions of disappointment, heartbreak and helplessness. Who would have thought that this suicide scene would chillingly resemble Smith's own passing?

Smith sang with a sweet whisper and gently finger-picked his acoustic guitar to immaculate harmonies laced with sadness and beauty. His songs covered subjects such as addiction, coping with painful pasts, falling in love and optimism amongst misery. Smith first broke into the music scene with his Portland band Heatmiser, releasing three albums before disbanding. While not working with the band, he started recording solo material for independent labels. By the time his self-titled second album was released, fans and critics alike were hailing him as an independent rock genius.

His stature as an indie rocker remained with him even after he signed to the major label DreamWorks. His two-album stint with the label saw him produce arguably his best album, the brilliant XO. After his release of Figure 8 in 2000, Smith fell out of the spotlight and kept largely to himself. He toured occasionally in New York and Los Angeles, but he spent most of his time writing and recording the yet to be released From a Basement on a Hill.

This condensed history of his musical career leaves us at the present, where the soulful and moving Smith is no longer with us. On the bright side, he was an artist who has left behind six full-length albums and countless singles filled with music that tugs the listener's heartstrings. Elliott Smith was indeed someone special whose life was far too short. I can still remember hearing him for the first time, five years ago in my friend Phil's basement. His songs of pain touched with a glimmer of hope instantly made me a fan. Smith's music has always been a remedy to my own life's pains whether it be heartbreak or loss.

This is a tribute to a man I admire. Whether you are a lifelong fan or are just hearing about him for the first time, I can only hope that you can share in the loss of a phenomenal musician. I'll end this column with a few lines from his song Oh Well, Okay. "Here's the silhouette, the face always turned away / the bleeding color gone to black, dying like a day / couldn't figure out what made you so unhappy / shook your head to say no, no, no / and stopped for a spell / and stayed that way."

Kelly Rooney is a senior in LAS. His columns appear alternate Tuesdays. He can be reached at opinions@dailyillini.com.