British Vogue, February, 1995
Contributed by Sai
With a far-out charisma and his father's looks and voice, Jeff Buckley makes audiences swoon wherever he goes. Sam Taylor reports
The most repeated if not the most interesting fact about Jeff Buckley is that his natural father was Tim Buckley, the wayward but charismatic American folk-jazz star, famed for his wondrous voice. Tim was a wanderer though, and didn't stick around for his son's birth. They met only once, for nine days, when Jeff was eight years old. Two months later, Tim was dead.
Genetics are inescapable though, and Jeff has clearly inherited his father's eyebrows, cheekbones and vocal power. His debut album, Grace (released last summer) is a record of astonishing breadth and virtuosity, veering from pyrotechnic blues-rock to aching, contemplative folk-often in the same song. The album is packed with melodic twists and tempo changes, and and is distinguished by the unremitting intensity of Buckley's delivery: he sings like a manic-depressive, euphorically in love one minute, standing on the edge of an abyss the next.
"The album is an elegy, sort of a child's coffin," he explains. "It's full of past ghosts, exorcised in song." Buckley's speaking voice is nasal and delicate; his words are a mix of Californian shrink-speak and occasional weirdly colorful phrases. His life, he insists, is every bit as emotionally intense as his music suggests. "The content of my life doesn't make it into the songs, but I want my music to sound how I feel."
Buckley's early years were spent in Southern California, drifting from town to town with his "gypsy pot-head mother". He learnt guitar, and at 15 began playing bars in Anaheim. "Do you know where that is? It's Disneyland. It was hell. It was killing me. I think too much to live in LA."
Five years ago he finally moved to New York, a place he had always fantasized about as a spiritual homeland. It was there that he made a name for himself, playing dramatic, sometimes disastrous solo shows in East Village bars and cafés. Buckley's first record, the Live at Sin-é EP, gives some indication of his vast potential, but shows how infuriatingly erratic he was at thus point.
The huge leap in consistency between Sin-é and Grace, released just six months later, can only be attributed to the young band Buckley assembled-bassist Mick Grondahl, drummer Matt Johnson, and guitarist Michael Tighe-who provided the tearaway prodigy with the discipline he needed.
The group plays in this country next month, and is worth the inevitable hours of queuing. But be warned: their live shows are almost exhaustingly powerful, the only light relief coming from some unusual Comer versions. On Grace, Buckley covers Leonard Cohen, Benjamin Britten, and Elkie Brooks's "Lilac Wine", and he admits to having eclectic tastes. "Siouxsie and the Banshees, Led Zeppelin, Billie Holiday, Sex Pistols...I've been through some very strange phases. One year, I listened to nothing but Bob Dylan. I am very obsessive about music...but then, all love is obsessive."
Contributed by Sai
With a far-out charisma and his father's looks and voice, Jeff Buckley makes audiences swoon wherever he goes. Sam Taylor reports
The most repeated if not the most interesting fact about Jeff Buckley is that his natural father was Tim Buckley, the wayward but charismatic American folk-jazz star, famed for his wondrous voice. Tim was a wanderer though, and didn't stick around for his son's birth. They met only once, for nine days, when Jeff was eight years old. Two months later, Tim was dead.
Genetics are inescapable though, and Jeff has clearly inherited his father's eyebrows, cheekbones and vocal power. His debut album, Grace (released last summer) is a record of astonishing breadth and virtuosity, veering from pyrotechnic blues-rock to aching, contemplative folk-often in the same song. The album is packed with melodic twists and tempo changes, and and is distinguished by the unremitting intensity of Buckley's delivery: he sings like a manic-depressive, euphorically in love one minute, standing on the edge of an abyss the next.
"The album is an elegy, sort of a child's coffin," he explains. "It's full of past ghosts, exorcised in song." Buckley's speaking voice is nasal and delicate; his words are a mix of Californian shrink-speak and occasional weirdly colorful phrases. His life, he insists, is every bit as emotionally intense as his music suggests. "The content of my life doesn't make it into the songs, but I want my music to sound how I feel."
Buckley's early years were spent in Southern California, drifting from town to town with his "gypsy pot-head mother". He learnt guitar, and at 15 began playing bars in Anaheim. "Do you know where that is? It's Disneyland. It was hell. It was killing me. I think too much to live in LA."
Five years ago he finally moved to New York, a place he had always fantasized about as a spiritual homeland. It was there that he made a name for himself, playing dramatic, sometimes disastrous solo shows in East Village bars and cafés. Buckley's first record, the Live at Sin-é EP, gives some indication of his vast potential, but shows how infuriatingly erratic he was at thus point.
The huge leap in consistency between Sin-é and Grace, released just six months later, can only be attributed to the young band Buckley assembled-bassist Mick Grondahl, drummer Matt Johnson, and guitarist Michael Tighe-who provided the tearaway prodigy with the discipline he needed.
The group plays in this country next month, and is worth the inevitable hours of queuing. But be warned: their live shows are almost exhaustingly powerful, the only light relief coming from some unusual Comer versions. On Grace, Buckley covers Leonard Cohen, Benjamin Britten, and Elkie Brooks's "Lilac Wine", and he admits to having eclectic tastes. "Siouxsie and the Banshees, Led Zeppelin, Billie Holiday, Sex Pistols...I've been through some very strange phases. One year, I listened to nothing but Bob Dylan. I am very obsessive about music...but then, all love is obsessive."
No comments:
Post a Comment