ELLIOTT SMITH DIED, one day before I turned 10. Six years ago, yesterday.

He was a pivotal figure in the music industry: Debuting with the alternative rock band Heatmiser, he became the voice of a generation of post-grunge youths who had become disenfranchised with the mainstream, the original indie kid.

He recorded his first solo album, "Roman Candle" in 1994, which, though it did not necessarily create commercial success, brought him into the limelight not only for his musical talent but his innovative songwriting techniques.

An eponymous album came out next, which he himself described as "personally, it couldn't be more dark." His first music video as a solo act was recorded, a second to follow within months. Both songs dealt with depression and drug abuse.

In the following years, he released three more studio albums: "Either/Or," "Figure 8," and my personal favorite, "XO."

All three were deeply introspective albums, relying heavily on his philosophical readings and studies, and he became well known for his lo-fi recording, often in his bathroom, and distinctive "spiderweb-thin" vocals.

And then, well, he died. He was found in his home with two stab wounds in his chest, ostensibly self-inflicted, though the coroner's report was inconclusive.

Of course, he's not the first songwriter to kill himself. That's essentially the ironic, bitter, indie-rocker motto, right? Pain is beauty? But I would have thought Elliott would have been the last person to buy into that. He even said so; he called it "deaf and dumb and done." I was 10, and I thought he meant it. But now, I guess not.

Elliott was my hero. I wanted to be him when I grew up … not a rock star, but a something better. I can't even describe it, but his death had a profound effect on my life. Not that day, maybe not that year. But the more I've matured, the more I appreciate his music, and the more I miss him.

Days like this, with the rain outside and a cold breeze blowing through the window, I remember the first time I heard my favorite song, "Waltz #2." I remember the distinctive three-beat drum line, something I'd never heard before on a rock album. I remember the resonance of his words: "Here it is, the revenge to the tune, you're no good. You're no good, you're no good, you're no good. Can't you tell that it's well understood?" It was pain, sure, but it was perfect. I'd never heard anything like it.

I still haven't, even today. It was and is entirely unique.

Elliott Smith was a musical legend, he was my idol. I can't sum it up in my words any better than that, so I'll give it a try with his:

There was nothing she could do until after
When his body'd been buried below
Way back in the day,
Oh my, nothing else could've been done …
What I used to be will pass away and then you'll see
That all I want now is happiness for you and me."