October, 1994
By Stan Cuesta
Submitted by Ana
Translated by me
Nature or culture? Innate or acquired? Bullshit! You missed the father (Tim, 1947-1975), do not miss the son (Jeff, 1967-...), natural child of New York and Led Zeppelin.
On the plane that brings me to Atlanta to meet Jeff Buckley, I re-listen to his album, "Grace". Not only do I maintain all the good that I said last month, but I insist: what a disc! Produced by Andy Wallace, who has to his credit, among others, Soul Asylum and Nirvana (the controversial mix of "Smells Like Teen Spirit"), a hellish change from the first 4 track EP of Jeff recorded live and solo in an Irish bar. The trajectory of the son of the mythical Tim Buckley (who died of an overdose in 1975) is astonishing. He was born in 1967, while his parents separated. He met his father only one time, at the age of eight, without speaking to him. Finally, his mother and he were not invited to the funeral. There is the "legacy". If there is a transmission of a gift, it is therefore purely genetic. It is understood that any reference to the father is rather unwelcome, even forbidden. Because obviously, journalists, amazed by this voice, so close to the "other", had a little too much tendency to insist on it. Even the public, as during a solo performance of Jeff, where a spectator screamed in the silence following an impressive piece: "Great! You have exactly the voice of your father!" It can annoy. Unfortunately, all this is complicated and we can not AVOID the question. In fact, even though he was raised by his stepfather (He worked as a mechanic in his garage, listening to Led Zeppelin blasting from stereos, I grew up with this music) in Southern California, his first major stage appearance took place in New York in April 91 during a "Tribute To Tim Buckley" where he surrendered without being announced, stunned the assembly by repeating "I Never Asked To Be Your Mountain." The physical, vocal resemblance, must have thrilled those who had known the father. And this song, precisely, where he mentions his wife and his son..."Flying fish /Tells me about my child / Wrapped bitter stories and sorrow / He just asks for a smile / He never asked to be his mountain / he never asked to fly / Through his eyes his love comes back / tells him not to cry / She says: "Your rascal father has run away / With a dancer he calls a Queen / With his stolen cards, he plays / And laughs, but never wins "/ My sweet love, will you come back / And will you love me little? / Please take my hand / I have gone too long / Now I have come back to stay / Please do not leave me / Again like this / Please, come back home." Troubling...Not easy to be the abandoned son of a legend and escape the ghost. A Jeff song, "Dream Brother", talks about his best friend he loves so much that he would have wanted him to be his older brother..."He's a musician, constantly on the road, people, drugs...I worry a lot about him, a lot of things have been screwed up in his life...I would not want his kids to be...like me." At this point of the interview, I will not have the courage to put pressure, I will change the subject. There will stop the evocation of the father.
Limousines
This first public appearance he decided in any case to settle in New York. Previously, in California, he had done a lot of odd jobs (in a hotel for three years, clothing salesman, electrician, ect), while playing music since the age of thirteen, also earning a living as a sessionman guitarist, chorister or recording and producing demos for others, "buddies who made demos, who spun me 60 dollars here and there." In New York, he meets Gary Lucas, former guitarist of Captain Beefheart, with whom he forms an ephemeral group, Gods & Monsters. They co-write two songs, "Mojo Pin" (opening of all his concerts and CDs to date), and "Grace", which gives its name to the album. Then again "more bands, more money, I started playing solo, for artistic and economic reasons...I played for tips, sometimes a percentage on the inputs. And I continued, gig after gig..." Old school style, on the job, boarding, alone in front of a few late drunkards shouting incongruous requests. Formative. And the word spreads, there is this guy, all alone with his Telecaster and an incredible voice that occurs at Fez, at Sin-e, which mixes all styles, unheard of. And then, it's the son of...And for the first time in the history of these cafes, limousines come to park just ahead. The little guy brings down the executive managers of the majors in a smoky pub on the Lower East Side! As in the good old days, when Jac Holzman went to the other side to sign the Doors at the Whiskey A Gogo exit, or...Tim Buckley! And not just anyone, we see men like Clive Davis himself, big boss of Arista: rejected. Or the people from Sony, who take the piece. Jeff just asks that he be allowed to tour as he wants, and record records as he wants. The fairy tale.
Lullabies
The sequel is the EP recorded a year ago, then the album, finished early 94 at Bearsville Woodstock. With a group. Complete strangers to the battalion, Mick Grondhal on bass (He had never played in a group before. That's perfect. Groovy!), Matt Johnson on drums, plus Michael Tighe, last to come, on second guitar. These guys saw him playing solo, and came to offer their services because they LOVED WHAT HE DID! This is the only way to proceed. I do not care if a guy is 17 and can not play. Hey, punk? Not far, not far... The album barely finished, what else? A tour through the States, a date a day. BEFORE THE ALBUM IS OUT? Yes. It's like that at the Buckley's. And August 6th, it's Atlanta. I landed. Customs: "Are you on vacation?" "Um yes." "For 2 days?" "Yeah." "Your job?" (I hesitate) "Musician (never say one is a journalist, it annoys them)..." "What instrument?" "Uh...everything, finally, I'm a singer, finally songwriter..." Oh yes, and you sing what? " "Lullabies." Which quickly ends the discussion. Arrival at the hotel, everywhere white (ugly, fat, fools) and black (beautiful, big, radiant) that never mix. At the reception, a white employee in front of which the whites stand in line, and a black employee with, in front of him, the blacks. And I, of course, the misplaced that everyone looks at in the corner. I get in touch with the photographer, Philippe Mogane, who has been living in the US for twenty years, and in Atlanta for several years. Nothing beats a good guide, equipped with a big black Ford. Some beers and news of the country (the street of Nantes), we tell our lives. And we listen to the CD of Jeff Buckley thoroughly in the car while traveling Atlanta at night, my God, I had never listened so hard, suddenly, I rediscover stuff. Philippe seems to like that, he will say the next day "It's great music for having sex." Saturday, I escape, alone, on foot (a feat, given the size of the city). Atlanta underground. In addition, the weather is nice. Some places make you feel at home on the other side of the world...
Muezzin
In the evening, it's the concert in a club in the same neighbourhood, The Point, the kind of perfect place you die not to have in France (we're Gibus or Zenith, in between, what do we do?). Cool, two bars, professional lighting and sound, a good atmosphere, good bands. Philippe gives me the 45 rpm of the Stooges "I Got A Right," which he produced on his label, Siamese Records, in the 70s, and tells me that he often sees his friends, the Fleshtones, setting the place on fire. Rock 'n' roll. At midnight, the band shows up on stage (as they cross the room, the dressing rooms are beyond the bar!), you look like nothing, you disappear. Jeff sings a kind of a cappella muezzin song that will last a few minutes: brave. The audience gets a little angry and boom, it's the beginning of "Mojo Pin" that comes out. This guy's got something in his gut, you can feel it. He's the star, but he's not playing it, he's magnetizing. The group is discreet but perfect. The pieces stretch, with many breaks, variations in intensity. The voice is magnificent, his guitar playing impressive. The album scrolls through, plus a few new ones, people discover, and yet, it's a success. With his eyes closed, Jeff Buckley lets his voice fly away on amazing improvisations. As a reminder, a hallucinated, long and violent version of Alex Chilton's "Kanga-roo," from the Big Star period. And here we are, walking back through the room, relaxing in the dressing rooms, having a little chat. Mogane is out of control, he has taken his pictures, he flirts with everything that moves. Bad luck, he comes across the only two lesbians in the club. The important thing is to participate.
Piaf
Sunday afternoon, Ritz Carlon, for the interview, Jeff did not sleep, he is exhausted by the tour. He did not change, green shirt...Three-day beard. In this luxurious-kitsch decor, amazing. This guy is very beautiful, but he does everything not to show it. For photos, it's "deal with it". Not the kind to nervously restyle. "He's a punk" confirms Mogane (who knows it). When I arrive for the interview, he is lying on the sofa, his eyes closed...I tell him that his album is record of the month in Rock & Folk, he looks dismayed! "Thank you...I guess." With an air of saying "my poor old man, you do not know what to invent, you other journalists". I mention Edith Piaf, which surprisingly "I do not know the end", was on his first EP. I have both versions, French and American, the Carnegie Hall concert is on the big box of 10 cd's...I understand this music. Although it can be very fine, it comes from someone who has lived, from the street. She was so powerfully tragic. In fact, it does not surprise me that you like that too, you have her style...(Gasp, I look like Edith Piaf?) Side musical influences, we can say that the range of Jeff is...open . From Led Zeppelin to Nusrat Fateh Ali Kahn, via Charlie Mingus, Van Morrison (he covers "Young Lovers Do", from "Astral Weeks"), Benjamin Britten (a Christmas carol, on the album)! Hard to stick a label, after all that. Favorite songwriters? "Nick Cave...James Brown Raymond Asso...My God, there are so many! All that has soul (soul), actually...Nina Simone (he does a sublime version of" Lilac Wine ")". And besides this version of Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah" does he know John Cale's? "Well, I actually play John Cale's version, that's where I got it, from this album," I'm Your Fan", that I had listened to at a friend's house. Leonard's is the original, but he does not sing all the verses, the way John interprets it is so...simple." The guy is COOL. We speak guitars. "I like playing solo and electric, and with the electric, you can go from Sex Pistols to...Joe Pass." A good summary, finally. "I learned to play on my own, then I took a few classes with a very hip jazz guy, it enriched my knowledge on the harmonic level, chord position, but I only kept the main one, my own chords, my own open-tunings, to have some tones that we do not get with a standard tuning. New or thirteenths, without it sounds like jazz wankers. And as he has the perfect ear (the muzak drains from the radio, he tells me, that's in F minor), he detuned-tuned his guitar at the speed of sound, between the pieces, not like Keith Richards who has a guitar by tuning. Or Chris Cornell from Soundgarden, who has all these guitars, one by one, it's amazing...That and the jaguars, the rhinestones...He toured with them, he likes them, but we do not feel any envy for all this decorum. By the way, who are today's guys does he feels close to? "Let's say I like Stereolab, Red House Painters, la la la (he looks for), come on baby! Uh...Pavement, Jesus Lizard, Melvins." Ah well, the readers were afraid of having to buy the dictionary of jazz...And this fascination for Led Zep? In "Grace", the strings make me think of "Kashmir". "Maybe because it's the only time you've heard real strings on heavy rock..." (He hums the "indianizing" passage) These are sections of brass and strings arranged by John Paul Jones. I thought about Motown, but you can not fight, huh?" These imprints of oriental scales, he seems to like that: "I love that, the Indian muzak, or Oum Kalsoum with the Great Egyptian Orchestra behind it." On stage, however, the formation is more collected. You do not miss it, a keyboard? "If I found the right person, it would be perfect. I play a little piano, too, oh, I'd like to make you listen to these improvisations we made with the band, we had just been jamming, and we had this sort of ... liberating epiphany of all that shit. I was playing like Phil Glass under angel dust trying to be Sun Ra or whatever, that was great! I imagine." So precisely, with all this flow, different projects? "Yes, of course, but the band still has a huge amount of maneuvers, we are constantly evolving, apart from writing songs, I'd like...It'll probably never happen, but someone asked me to to play Lollapalooza, if it happened, to make it really Lollapaloozesque, I dreamed about it, I would like a big band that would make people believe that they are under a bad acid, a sort of cabaret, where I would sing twenty-minute songs that nobody knows, and others thirty seconds, covers, you see?"
Angie
A bohemian, a real one. We said goodbye, let's meet in Paris on September 22nd, for a concert at the Erotika. Philippe and I are drained, we have a few drinks with his girlfriend, Angie Bowie (sorry, Jerome), who lives in Atlanta (what a funny idea! There is Elton John too, but we do not invite him). We are having a good time. Angie prepares a record, she will come to Europe in September. In fact, we're totally drunk. The sun sets. Back in the hotel, I listen, in a semi-coma, an interview of Jeff on 99X, THE trendy radio of the city. A listener calls to say that he sounds like Robert Plant, but better recorded...To answer him Jeff plays live a piece on his acoustic Gibson which he spoke to me a quarter of an hour ago ("A reissue of the model by Robert Johnson With a guitar like that, you always want to play, it's like an extension of yourself "). The interviewer tells him that Sony puts a label on him, that he is perhaps "the next big thing", at least the company seems to wish it. Answer: "Oh yeah, well, they may have a big surprise on awakening!" I fall asleep happy.
By Stan Cuesta
Submitted by Ana
Translated by me
Nature or culture? Innate or acquired? Bullshit! You missed the father (Tim, 1947-1975), do not miss the son (Jeff, 1967-...), natural child of New York and Led Zeppelin.
On the plane that brings me to Atlanta to meet Jeff Buckley, I re-listen to his album, "Grace". Not only do I maintain all the good that I said last month, but I insist: what a disc! Produced by Andy Wallace, who has to his credit, among others, Soul Asylum and Nirvana (the controversial mix of "Smells Like Teen Spirit"), a hellish change from the first 4 track EP of Jeff recorded live and solo in an Irish bar. The trajectory of the son of the mythical Tim Buckley (who died of an overdose in 1975) is astonishing. He was born in 1967, while his parents separated. He met his father only one time, at the age of eight, without speaking to him. Finally, his mother and he were not invited to the funeral. There is the "legacy". If there is a transmission of a gift, it is therefore purely genetic. It is understood that any reference to the father is rather unwelcome, even forbidden. Because obviously, journalists, amazed by this voice, so close to the "other", had a little too much tendency to insist on it. Even the public, as during a solo performance of Jeff, where a spectator screamed in the silence following an impressive piece: "Great! You have exactly the voice of your father!" It can annoy. Unfortunately, all this is complicated and we can not AVOID the question. In fact, even though he was raised by his stepfather (He worked as a mechanic in his garage, listening to Led Zeppelin blasting from stereos, I grew up with this music) in Southern California, his first major stage appearance took place in New York in April 91 during a "Tribute To Tim Buckley" where he surrendered without being announced, stunned the assembly by repeating "I Never Asked To Be Your Mountain." The physical, vocal resemblance, must have thrilled those who had known the father. And this song, precisely, where he mentions his wife and his son..."Flying fish /Tells me about my child / Wrapped bitter stories and sorrow / He just asks for a smile / He never asked to be his mountain / he never asked to fly / Through his eyes his love comes back / tells him not to cry / She says: "Your rascal father has run away / With a dancer he calls a Queen / With his stolen cards, he plays / And laughs, but never wins "/ My sweet love, will you come back / And will you love me little? / Please take my hand / I have gone too long / Now I have come back to stay / Please do not leave me / Again like this / Please, come back home." Troubling...Not easy to be the abandoned son of a legend and escape the ghost. A Jeff song, "Dream Brother", talks about his best friend he loves so much that he would have wanted him to be his older brother..."He's a musician, constantly on the road, people, drugs...I worry a lot about him, a lot of things have been screwed up in his life...I would not want his kids to be...like me." At this point of the interview, I will not have the courage to put pressure, I will change the subject. There will stop the evocation of the father.
Limousines
This first public appearance he decided in any case to settle in New York. Previously, in California, he had done a lot of odd jobs (in a hotel for three years, clothing salesman, electrician, ect), while playing music since the age of thirteen, also earning a living as a sessionman guitarist, chorister or recording and producing demos for others, "buddies who made demos, who spun me 60 dollars here and there." In New York, he meets Gary Lucas, former guitarist of Captain Beefheart, with whom he forms an ephemeral group, Gods & Monsters. They co-write two songs, "Mojo Pin" (opening of all his concerts and CDs to date), and "Grace", which gives its name to the album. Then again "more bands, more money, I started playing solo, for artistic and economic reasons...I played for tips, sometimes a percentage on the inputs. And I continued, gig after gig..." Old school style, on the job, boarding, alone in front of a few late drunkards shouting incongruous requests. Formative. And the word spreads, there is this guy, all alone with his Telecaster and an incredible voice that occurs at Fez, at Sin-e, which mixes all styles, unheard of. And then, it's the son of...And for the first time in the history of these cafes, limousines come to park just ahead. The little guy brings down the executive managers of the majors in a smoky pub on the Lower East Side! As in the good old days, when Jac Holzman went to the other side to sign the Doors at the Whiskey A Gogo exit, or...Tim Buckley! And not just anyone, we see men like Clive Davis himself, big boss of Arista: rejected. Or the people from Sony, who take the piece. Jeff just asks that he be allowed to tour as he wants, and record records as he wants. The fairy tale.
Lullabies
The sequel is the EP recorded a year ago, then the album, finished early 94 at Bearsville Woodstock. With a group. Complete strangers to the battalion, Mick Grondhal on bass (He had never played in a group before. That's perfect. Groovy!), Matt Johnson on drums, plus Michael Tighe, last to come, on second guitar. These guys saw him playing solo, and came to offer their services because they LOVED WHAT HE DID! This is the only way to proceed. I do not care if a guy is 17 and can not play. Hey, punk? Not far, not far... The album barely finished, what else? A tour through the States, a date a day. BEFORE THE ALBUM IS OUT? Yes. It's like that at the Buckley's. And August 6th, it's Atlanta. I landed. Customs: "Are you on vacation?" "Um yes." "For 2 days?" "Yeah." "Your job?" (I hesitate) "Musician (never say one is a journalist, it annoys them)..." "What instrument?" "Uh...everything, finally, I'm a singer, finally songwriter..." Oh yes, and you sing what? " "Lullabies." Which quickly ends the discussion. Arrival at the hotel, everywhere white (ugly, fat, fools) and black (beautiful, big, radiant) that never mix. At the reception, a white employee in front of which the whites stand in line, and a black employee with, in front of him, the blacks. And I, of course, the misplaced that everyone looks at in the corner. I get in touch with the photographer, Philippe Mogane, who has been living in the US for twenty years, and in Atlanta for several years. Nothing beats a good guide, equipped with a big black Ford. Some beers and news of the country (the street of Nantes), we tell our lives. And we listen to the CD of Jeff Buckley thoroughly in the car while traveling Atlanta at night, my God, I had never listened so hard, suddenly, I rediscover stuff. Philippe seems to like that, he will say the next day "It's great music for having sex." Saturday, I escape, alone, on foot (a feat, given the size of the city). Atlanta underground. In addition, the weather is nice. Some places make you feel at home on the other side of the world...
Muezzin
In the evening, it's the concert in a club in the same neighbourhood, The Point, the kind of perfect place you die not to have in France (we're Gibus or Zenith, in between, what do we do?). Cool, two bars, professional lighting and sound, a good atmosphere, good bands. Philippe gives me the 45 rpm of the Stooges "I Got A Right," which he produced on his label, Siamese Records, in the 70s, and tells me that he often sees his friends, the Fleshtones, setting the place on fire. Rock 'n' roll. At midnight, the band shows up on stage (as they cross the room, the dressing rooms are beyond the bar!), you look like nothing, you disappear. Jeff sings a kind of a cappella muezzin song that will last a few minutes: brave. The audience gets a little angry and boom, it's the beginning of "Mojo Pin" that comes out. This guy's got something in his gut, you can feel it. He's the star, but he's not playing it, he's magnetizing. The group is discreet but perfect. The pieces stretch, with many breaks, variations in intensity. The voice is magnificent, his guitar playing impressive. The album scrolls through, plus a few new ones, people discover, and yet, it's a success. With his eyes closed, Jeff Buckley lets his voice fly away on amazing improvisations. As a reminder, a hallucinated, long and violent version of Alex Chilton's "Kanga-roo," from the Big Star period. And here we are, walking back through the room, relaxing in the dressing rooms, having a little chat. Mogane is out of control, he has taken his pictures, he flirts with everything that moves. Bad luck, he comes across the only two lesbians in the club. The important thing is to participate.
Piaf
Sunday afternoon, Ritz Carlon, for the interview, Jeff did not sleep, he is exhausted by the tour. He did not change, green shirt...Three-day beard. In this luxurious-kitsch decor, amazing. This guy is very beautiful, but he does everything not to show it. For photos, it's "deal with it". Not the kind to nervously restyle. "He's a punk" confirms Mogane (who knows it). When I arrive for the interview, he is lying on the sofa, his eyes closed...I tell him that his album is record of the month in Rock & Folk, he looks dismayed! "Thank you...I guess." With an air of saying "my poor old man, you do not know what to invent, you other journalists". I mention Edith Piaf, which surprisingly "I do not know the end", was on his first EP. I have both versions, French and American, the Carnegie Hall concert is on the big box of 10 cd's...I understand this music. Although it can be very fine, it comes from someone who has lived, from the street. She was so powerfully tragic. In fact, it does not surprise me that you like that too, you have her style...(Gasp, I look like Edith Piaf?) Side musical influences, we can say that the range of Jeff is...open . From Led Zeppelin to Nusrat Fateh Ali Kahn, via Charlie Mingus, Van Morrison (he covers "Young Lovers Do", from "Astral Weeks"), Benjamin Britten (a Christmas carol, on the album)! Hard to stick a label, after all that. Favorite songwriters? "Nick Cave...James Brown Raymond Asso...My God, there are so many! All that has soul (soul), actually...Nina Simone (he does a sublime version of" Lilac Wine ")". And besides this version of Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah" does he know John Cale's? "Well, I actually play John Cale's version, that's where I got it, from this album," I'm Your Fan", that I had listened to at a friend's house. Leonard's is the original, but he does not sing all the verses, the way John interprets it is so...simple." The guy is COOL. We speak guitars. "I like playing solo and electric, and with the electric, you can go from Sex Pistols to...Joe Pass." A good summary, finally. "I learned to play on my own, then I took a few classes with a very hip jazz guy, it enriched my knowledge on the harmonic level, chord position, but I only kept the main one, my own chords, my own open-tunings, to have some tones that we do not get with a standard tuning. New or thirteenths, without it sounds like jazz wankers. And as he has the perfect ear (the muzak drains from the radio, he tells me, that's in F minor), he detuned-tuned his guitar at the speed of sound, between the pieces, not like Keith Richards who has a guitar by tuning. Or Chris Cornell from Soundgarden, who has all these guitars, one by one, it's amazing...That and the jaguars, the rhinestones...He toured with them, he likes them, but we do not feel any envy for all this decorum. By the way, who are today's guys does he feels close to? "Let's say I like Stereolab, Red House Painters, la la la (he looks for), come on baby! Uh...Pavement, Jesus Lizard, Melvins." Ah well, the readers were afraid of having to buy the dictionary of jazz...And this fascination for Led Zep? In "Grace", the strings make me think of "Kashmir". "Maybe because it's the only time you've heard real strings on heavy rock..." (He hums the "indianizing" passage) These are sections of brass and strings arranged by John Paul Jones. I thought about Motown, but you can not fight, huh?" These imprints of oriental scales, he seems to like that: "I love that, the Indian muzak, or Oum Kalsoum with the Great Egyptian Orchestra behind it." On stage, however, the formation is more collected. You do not miss it, a keyboard? "If I found the right person, it would be perfect. I play a little piano, too, oh, I'd like to make you listen to these improvisations we made with the band, we had just been jamming, and we had this sort of ... liberating epiphany of all that shit. I was playing like Phil Glass under angel dust trying to be Sun Ra or whatever, that was great! I imagine." So precisely, with all this flow, different projects? "Yes, of course, but the band still has a huge amount of maneuvers, we are constantly evolving, apart from writing songs, I'd like...It'll probably never happen, but someone asked me to to play Lollapalooza, if it happened, to make it really Lollapaloozesque, I dreamed about it, I would like a big band that would make people believe that they are under a bad acid, a sort of cabaret, where I would sing twenty-minute songs that nobody knows, and others thirty seconds, covers, you see?"
Angie
A bohemian, a real one. We said goodbye, let's meet in Paris on September 22nd, for a concert at the Erotika. Philippe and I are drained, we have a few drinks with his girlfriend, Angie Bowie (sorry, Jerome), who lives in Atlanta (what a funny idea! There is Elton John too, but we do not invite him). We are having a good time. Angie prepares a record, she will come to Europe in September. In fact, we're totally drunk. The sun sets. Back in the hotel, I listen, in a semi-coma, an interview of Jeff on 99X, THE trendy radio of the city. A listener calls to say that he sounds like Robert Plant, but better recorded...To answer him Jeff plays live a piece on his acoustic Gibson which he spoke to me a quarter of an hour ago ("A reissue of the model by Robert Johnson With a guitar like that, you always want to play, it's like an extension of yourself "). The interviewer tells him that Sony puts a label on him, that he is perhaps "the next big thing", at least the company seems to wish it. Answer: "Oh yeah, well, they may have a big surprise on awakening!" I fall asleep happy.
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