Australian Herald, July 13, 1995
By Nui Te Koha
Submitted by Brett
Jeff Buckley, son of the legendary Tim Buckley, was just another aimless teenager in California before realizing his musical talent in a small cafe in New York City.
A grimy trail of equipment cases, empty bottles and show business handshakes leads to the backstage area at the Boston Apollo.
Jeff Buckley bounds up the stairs to have an after-show beer with his band, peers into an empty ice bucket, then looks momentarily lost. He searches the room for other fun.
A joint bypasses Buckley and finds its way to Juliana Hatfield, who smiles at the gift and heads towards the main stage.
While Hatfield maintains the lop-sided grin through her opening song Universal Heartbeat, Buckley bounces around the room signing autographs and indulging in chit-chat.
He's been on the road for two and a half weeks, and each night injects passion into a faultless 45-minute set before Hatfield.
The bombastic Eternal Life deteriorates into a mess of feedback and cluttered ideas, before Buckley's lonesome wail resurfaces and he leads the band into the haunting Mojo. From there it's anything that'll test Buckley's amazing voice (The Last Goodbye, Grace); anything that'll bare the soul a little more (Lilac Wine, Lover...).
"I'm fighting for my life, to get it happening," Buckley sighs. "I'm feeling like an old man with nothing to say. I'm wanting some new life in my life."
A few days later, at home in New York City, Buckley flits about his apartment with the same lost expression. "This city is waiting to live without me," he mumbles, looking down on the traffic and people below.
Grace, Buckley's debut album from last year, is a mirror on his poetic soul. It is a quiet storm which weathers the universal themes of the search for happiness, love and detachment.
As it cuts between blues and rock flavors, Grace is fuelled by intense emotion, often confused and extreme, but never false.
"I wanted the songs to be alive," Buckley says. "I wanted them to carry across their own emotion somehow. It's also the first time I've had to deal with the process of making an album.
"It's like, 'If I let this choice go, it'll end up on this plastic disc to be there until the day I die.' That can be a real concern.
"I've had to learn how to let it go. Let mistakes be put on, be more relaxed with with the creation process. It's stressful to bear a child, but you just do the best you can."
Buckley smiles. "I think it's a great album considering the band had been together for only five weeks."
The songs on Grace all come from Buckley's teen years. He jumped into a van and road-tested the songs with his band in small venues on the American east coast. "It was the key to producing some great moments," Buckley says. "The more you depend on each other when you make music, the more powerful the experience and the overall emotion becomes.
"I've literally watched the the songs that I had written bloom into other wonderful forms."
Buckley lived what he describes as a "white trash" existence in California until his late teens. The son of seminal folk singer/songwriter Tim Buckley, Jeff never met his father.
The family name would've been a foot through the door, and there were record company offers from the age of 17, but Buckley says he never actively pursued a career in music.
His change of heart came when the moved to New York, and an important venue in that transition was Sin-E, a small Irish cafe in The Village, where Buckley's seminal EP Live at Sin-E was recorded.
"I was huddled there on Monday nights, and other cafes on different nights, just working my ass off for small pay, paying off my phone bill and rent as best I could," Buckley says.
"The offer to record came around one more time and I took it. I felt I could rise to the occasion."
Buckley equates New York City with the feel of his music.
"I consider New York City to be part of my soul," he says. "Los Angeles did nothing for me as an artist. The silliness and artifice of that city is something that blows into your house with the wind."
You never met or knew your father, I say to Buckley. What impression do you get of him through his music?
The question is met with unease. "That he was a man," Buckley says slowly, "who conducted his career like a man who was convinced he was going to die before 30.
"I think I still characterize some of that crazy show business world of Los Angeles. It becomes part of you.
"It's the dirty dream world you never asked for."
Eternal Life (Sony) is released on Monday. Jeff Buckley's shows in August and September are sold out.
By Nui Te Koha
Submitted by Brett
Jeff Buckley, son of the legendary Tim Buckley, was just another aimless teenager in California before realizing his musical talent in a small cafe in New York City.
A grimy trail of equipment cases, empty bottles and show business handshakes leads to the backstage area at the Boston Apollo.
Jeff Buckley bounds up the stairs to have an after-show beer with his band, peers into an empty ice bucket, then looks momentarily lost. He searches the room for other fun.
A joint bypasses Buckley and finds its way to Juliana Hatfield, who smiles at the gift and heads towards the main stage.
While Hatfield maintains the lop-sided grin through her opening song Universal Heartbeat, Buckley bounces around the room signing autographs and indulging in chit-chat.
He's been on the road for two and a half weeks, and each night injects passion into a faultless 45-minute set before Hatfield.
The bombastic Eternal Life deteriorates into a mess of feedback and cluttered ideas, before Buckley's lonesome wail resurfaces and he leads the band into the haunting Mojo. From there it's anything that'll test Buckley's amazing voice (The Last Goodbye, Grace); anything that'll bare the soul a little more (Lilac Wine, Lover...).
"I'm fighting for my life, to get it happening," Buckley sighs. "I'm feeling like an old man with nothing to say. I'm wanting some new life in my life."
A few days later, at home in New York City, Buckley flits about his apartment with the same lost expression. "This city is waiting to live without me," he mumbles, looking down on the traffic and people below.
Grace, Buckley's debut album from last year, is a mirror on his poetic soul. It is a quiet storm which weathers the universal themes of the search for happiness, love and detachment.
As it cuts between blues and rock flavors, Grace is fuelled by intense emotion, often confused and extreme, but never false.
"I wanted the songs to be alive," Buckley says. "I wanted them to carry across their own emotion somehow. It's also the first time I've had to deal with the process of making an album.
"It's like, 'If I let this choice go, it'll end up on this plastic disc to be there until the day I die.' That can be a real concern.
"I've had to learn how to let it go. Let mistakes be put on, be more relaxed with with the creation process. It's stressful to bear a child, but you just do the best you can."
Buckley smiles. "I think it's a great album considering the band had been together for only five weeks."
The songs on Grace all come from Buckley's teen years. He jumped into a van and road-tested the songs with his band in small venues on the American east coast. "It was the key to producing some great moments," Buckley says. "The more you depend on each other when you make music, the more powerful the experience and the overall emotion becomes.
"I've literally watched the the songs that I had written bloom into other wonderful forms."
Buckley lived what he describes as a "white trash" existence in California until his late teens. The son of seminal folk singer/songwriter Tim Buckley, Jeff never met his father.
The family name would've been a foot through the door, and there were record company offers from the age of 17, but Buckley says he never actively pursued a career in music.
His change of heart came when the moved to New York, and an important venue in that transition was Sin-E, a small Irish cafe in The Village, where Buckley's seminal EP Live at Sin-E was recorded.
"I was huddled there on Monday nights, and other cafes on different nights, just working my ass off for small pay, paying off my phone bill and rent as best I could," Buckley says.
"The offer to record came around one more time and I took it. I felt I could rise to the occasion."
Buckley equates New York City with the feel of his music.
"I consider New York City to be part of my soul," he says. "Los Angeles did nothing for me as an artist. The silliness and artifice of that city is something that blows into your house with the wind."
You never met or knew your father, I say to Buckley. What impression do you get of him through his music?
The question is met with unease. "That he was a man," Buckley says slowly, "who conducted his career like a man who was convinced he was going to die before 30.
"I think I still characterize some of that crazy show business world of Los Angeles. It becomes part of you.
"It's the dirty dream world you never asked for."
Eternal Life (Sony) is released on Monday. Jeff Buckley's shows in August and September are sold out.
