BACKSTORY: 21-year-old surfer/songwriter who blends the sunshine and soul of Hawaii with the smog and grit of the British Isles
FROM: Kauai, Hawaii
YOU MIGHT KNOW HIM FROM: Last year’s five-song Aloha Soul EP, whose title is also the soundbite description of its sonics and style
NOW: Flipping between his bedroom in his parents’ home in Kauai and his flat in London, jumping back and forth between songwriting sessions on either side of the pond
Eli Smart is in a quandary about whether to order a cup of tea or an alcoholic beverage. “It’s the first time I’m old enough to drink on the mainland,” explains Smart, who grew up on the Hawaiian island of Kauai. But if present company isn’t having anything stronger than Earl Grey, Smart doesn’t feel that it’s appropriate to have that end-of-the-day beer. The songwriter’s easygoing and adaptable nature quickly becomes evident from this initial brief exchange.
Smart cuts a noticeable figure in the darkened interior of The Semi-Tropic, a bar/café in the Echo Park neighborhood of Los Angeles. His ruddy complexion is that of someone who’s used to fresh air and stiff ocean breezes (he looks a little like a surfer version of Vinnie Barbarino, John Travolta’s character in the late-’70s sitcom Welcome Back, Kotter). Smart is personable and self-aware. He has neither the rehearsed and predictable responses of a media-trained music vet, nor the dull and unquotable non-replies of a newbie.
When we meet it’s the week after his second EP, Aloha Soul, was released, which comes 18 months after his sun-kissed debut EP, Boonie Town, and four years after his first groove-laden debut single, “Come on, Come on, Come On.” Raised by musician parents on an avocado farm steps away from the Pacific Ocean, Smart was surrounded by music when he was growing up. He wasn’t pushed into lessons, but his parents showed him how to play guitar and how to put together a song. His family took over a ukulele store, which they expanded to carry records and provide a small performance space. “They’re naturally supportive of what I want to do,” says Smart. “But they didn’t have rules for how you have to approach your life, at any stage of my life.”
“I like starting stuff in Hawaii, finishing it in the UK, and having that drastic perspective shift. The two places are a beautiful foil to each other.”
When it came time for Smart to consider college, he discovered Liverpool Institute of Performing Arts, co-founded by Paul McCartney. According to Smart, hearing about the experiences of his father, who spent much of his early life in Europe, gave him the confidence to apply to LIPA. He was accepted, and once there, he connected with other musicians and started carving out his unique niche in music.
Smart makes his home in London, but his heart—and his music—is split between The Smoke and the smokeless shores of Kauai. “I like starting stuff in Hawaii, finishing it in the UK, and having that drastic perspective shift,” he says. “It does something weird to your creative brain, to the brain in general. The two places are a beautiful foil to each other. To have that when working on music has been a special tool. It keeps you fresh and shatters any idea of stability, of creative aesthetic.”
Until Aloha Soul, most of Smart’s songs were written and recorded in his bedroom in his parents’ home, entirely on his own. His prior recordings drew from the wide radius of what he grew up listening to: Milton Nascimento, Motown, jazz, rock and roll. They reflect Smart’s observations, with the odd love song thrown in. These tracks have an unfettered, unassuming personal air to them that makes the listener feel like they’re sitting in Smart’s bedroom, grooving along with him while he’s creating them.
Aloha Soul was written and recorded in that same bedroom, but with the addition of producer Gianluca Buccellati (Lana Del Rey, Arlo Parks). It retains Smart’s sandy-feet-and-surfboard vibe while leaning into the blue-eyed-soul side of his sonic palette and putting his natural falsetto to maximum use. Aloha Soul is the first time Smart had another person as part of the creation process, and it took some getting used to. “It was a trip and it was a learning curve,” Smart admits of working with Buccellati. “Our first couple of days, I was very precious about how I wanted it to sound. I wasn't giving Luca the chance to be much more than an engineer. We had to have a serious chat about what we wanted to do. Once we got through that and broke the ice, we were able to chill out and trust each other.”
“I’m realizing that when we’re in the getting-to-know-each-other stage [with a producer], it’s nice to be open. You’re going to limit yourself if you’re precious about something you’ve brought in.”
Smart has relaxed considerably since his time with Buccellati. He’s had numerous sessions in the UK and in the US. While he’s in Los Angeles, he’s scheduled to have a few days in the studio with various people, many of whom he’s never met before, but he’s fine with that now. “I’m realizing that when we’re in the getting-to-know-each-other stage, it’s nice to be open,” he says. “You’re going to limit yourself if you’re precious about something you’ve brought in. You don’t give the other person the chance to be who they are. After I started having more sessions, I kind of did ‘speed dating,’ met a bunch of people to try stuff. Now I’m in the ‘scale back stage’ and doing stuff with a little more intention with a select group of people with whom I have collaborative synergy.”
A week after this conversation, Buccellati joins Smart for his stripped-back performance at Downtown Hollywood’s Hotel Café. Clearly their island time resulted in a connection, because they’re at complete ease with each other. Prior to hitting the stage, it feels like Smart is everywhere in the venue at the same time. Confident and charming, he greets anyone he’s met before like they’re a sibling with whom he’s been reunited after a long absent spell. Smart has his father Kirk in tow, introducing him to everybody with pride. The elder Smart will be playing lap steel with his son this evening.
The program is a congested showcase event with each artist performing only three songs. It feels a lot like open mic night—that is, until Smart hits the stage. Suddenly the affair takes on the feel of a proper gig. In addition to his father and Buccellati, Smart’s childhood friend and bandmate Jordan Paul and, unexpectedly, Declan McKenna round out Smart’s makeshift band. Within minutes, the bundled-up crowd is transported from the chilly LA evening to the laid back destination beaches of Kauai. Smart is a natural performer, relaxed and friendly, like he’s playing for friends. He’s gracious to the audience, but also a consummate professional, bringing his all to the songs. By the end of the brief set, Smart has a houseful of confirmed fans. FL
