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Thursday, December 27, 2018

Ultimate Understanding

The Irish Times, January 20, 1995
By Kevin Courtney

  It's a wet Saturday afternoon, and bright new music star Jeff Buckley has just touched down in Dublin to start the second leg of his tour, only right now he doesn't look so shiny and stellar. Huddled in a corner of the Tivoli Theatre, where he's playing later tonight, smoking Marlboros and snuffling with a cold, the son of Tim Buckley looks knackered, drained of all energy, sapped by the rock'n'roll circus.   He's already done two interviews, one soundcheck, and he's got more interviews after this one-a pretty busy first day in Europe for Sony's golden boy, and a million miles away from when all he'd have to do was just strap on his guitar and play.
  Now he's got a band, an entourage, and a schedule as tight as an E string. When he finds out that tonight's gig will be his only concert in Ireland, and that he's due to be whisked over to London in the early hours of Sunday morning, he reacts with tired resignation: "This is the only Irish date? Drag. I thought we were going to do more dates in Ireland. I love Ireland, especially Dublin."
  Does all this music biz baggage get to you? "I don't really fit into the rock'n'roll circus. The music we play is enough of a circus. I'd rather we all be alone in the room and just forget about what rock'n'roll's supposed to be. It's so confining, very unromantic. In the future, when we have more time, we'll take a van out, me and the guys, and go to places where nobody knows."
  But wherever the 27 year old Buckley goes, the "Next Big Thing" tag follows close behind, and plaudits are piling up around him like firewood around Joan Of Arc. What if, despite all his efforts to remain unaffected, Jeff Buckley finds himself thrust into the role of demigod?
   "I don't want that to happen because I'm far from being a consummate artist. I mean, this is just my first album, and the work is very new and it's just, em, beginning. I'm certainly not worthy of demigod status. There's absolutely no danger of that."
  But while not every artist wants to be Jesus Christ or John Lennon, doesn't everybody want to be liked and accepted?
  "I do too. It just depends on what you hold as important. I don't know any artist who doesn't do what they want to do, and doesn't do what they hear and feel. Aphex Twin can only do what he does, and Suede and the Grifters and Patti Smith, they're just doing what they do, even The Archies. It's an honest statement."
  Not everybody has taken to Jeff Buckley's singular style of music; for every laudatory line, there's also a twisted maze of misunderstanding and misinterpretation. Could this be because Buckley's songs are too intense, too close to the bone for some people to swallow without choking?
  "Those people wouldn't tell you that, though," he asserts. "They'd just tell you it was a load of shite. They'd just want to kill me. Some people just completely hate me on sight. I remember hearing an account of (one critic) getting drunk in a bar and just saying I was a complete fake. I've never even met the man. He doesn't really know me at all. I'm certainly not a fake, and I'll certainly outlive him, I'm sure."
  "It hurts when I'm insulted, and it makes me angry, but it's just the nature of music. Nobody can like everything and not everybody needs a certain kind of music. It's a huge world, and I don't seek to dominate the world."
  If he did want to rule the world, though, he couldn't have picked a bigger record label, the giant multinational Sony corporation, which owns Columbia Records.
  "I really got on to the label because of the chemistry of the people I knew I'd be working with. With them I was very comfortable, and to this day I still am, and I think we'll do good work, because I'm terribly, terribly paranoid of the music business."
  Did you feel you were entrusting your soul to them, that you might have to compromise on your vision? "No. I felt that because I was entrusting my soul to them, that I'd have to over communicate what my soul was, for them to gain an understanding."
  Buckley has been saddled with a "loner" image, partly because of his James Dean good looks, partly because he made his name as a solo artist, and partly because he's still seen as the orphaned offspring of Tim. Yet he's always had a family and he's always had friends, although solitude is something he values very highly.
  "I gain a lot from solitude, and I need it. Everybody does, you know. We need space from each other, and we need each other. I need the relationship. If I played solo for years and years and years I'd probably go crazy, completely insane. And it would be very sterile."
  The media tend to focus on the famous father, but the Jeff Buckley we hear is very much the product of his mother's influence.
  "I'm actually the son of Mary Gulbert," he says, pronouncing the French sounding surname softly. "My mother was born in the Panama Canal zone, and came to America when she was five, with her family, my grandmother and grandfather; and that was the family I knew. My uncle's name is George Gulbert, and he sang - he was actually the first person I ever knew who was in a band. Everybody sang; everybody loved music. It was just all around. My stepfather is a car mechanic, but he was always an inveterate record buyer, and to this day I still have the bug, and my place is filled with records."
  Perhaps it was Buckley's eclectic collection which started him off doing covers of other people's songs, but by the time he moved to New York, he was interpreting a range of songs in his own unique style. How does he choose which songs to cover?
  "The songs just choose me. There are some songs that I just like to make live, that are not necessarily mine. There was a part in my life, there was a time during the solo shows when I was a bit of a human jukebox, but of my own tastes.
  Put a coin in the jukebox and, along with the covers of Leonard Cohen and Benjamin Britten, you'd have also gotten Van Morrison. Was he a big influence?
  "No, he wasn't ever. I love and admire his work, but he wasn't, like, one of my seminal heroes. Basically the reason I did "The Way Young Lovers Do" was because Michael (Tighe, Buckley's guitarist) had a dream that he and I were singing it. And so I sang it for him. And I just got the song, and I fell in love with the album, Astral Weeks, and I absolutely played it out, played it out of my system. But you know, six years would go by and I would go right back to it as heavy as ever. It's just the way I am, I'm very copious with an album, I'll stay there and obsess on it."
  Buckley tackles his own obsessions through his original songs, seven of which feature on the debut album, Grace. Listening to them, you're immediately struck by their unconventiality, their defiance of set structures and sequence. It's certainly not your straight 12 bar rock'n'roll.
  "It's just my taste. I mean, take something like "Last Goodbye". It's a song that doesn't halve anything really repeating, it's just all one thing, and that's good. 'Coz you know, everybody's heard the standard forms over and over and over again, and people make them work, and sometimes they just buzz by you like flies and you don't notice them. I prefer to go from my deepest eccentricities and provide a different slant on this whole thing. And the thing about songs is, songs can hang around for a long time, and you may hate them and totally despise them, but somewhere down the line you may need them. They just fly into your life and have meaning somehow."
  People have said he's deep and mature for one so young. Doesn't that imply that anyone under 30 is frivolous?
  "I am frivolous. Terribly childish. Bob Dylan was deep. Rimbaud was deep. Joni Mitchell was deep. Just because somebody, is younger doesn't mean they're stupid. That's a known fact. Because there's still a mind there. The trend I've seen is that people are more audacious when they're younger, and their ideas are better. I don't plan to have that be the case with me. I admire a whole career, like Picasso or Billie Holiday or like Leonard Cohen. To this day he can still deliver a song and it's all you hear. You're completely captured. Or Iggy Pop. The man, like, rocks over every band I've seen. He just rocks his ass off.
  "I dig maturity. I don't like complacency in anyone. Neil Young is still doing it. And he's done lots of things that failed in the public eye. But it'sall necessary. You need to have ups and downs, it's a human thing. You follow what music demands of you, and through it you can get it's gifts."
  Right now, Jeff Buckley's music demands that he share the stage with bandmates Michael Tighe, Mick Grondahl and Matt Johnson. Is it difficult to weave the delicate fabric of his music in this potentially fractious band situation?
  "No, not at all. The emotion of the song dictates the arrangement, it dictates the sound and the texture and the colours that you use, and it's not hard to do with Michael, Mick and Matty. I'm completely a part of them and they're a part of me. It's just that was there from the beginning."
  So where will the music take Jeff Buckley in the future? He has no big career masterplan, but does he have any ultimate artistic goals?
  "What I really want is to have a life where I learn more about my poetry, learn more about myself as much as possible. I wanna get as deep into it as I can, 'coz that's how more work, is possible and more understanding is possible.
  How much more understanding? "Ultimate understanding."

Sunday, December 23, 2018

The Lost Jeff Buckley Interview

February, 1994
By Jay Sosnick
Submitted by Angela from the book L'impressione di Essere Eterno (The Impression of Being Eternal)
Translated by me

Did everything happen faster than you thought?

Faster, but not early enough.

Columbia has a great tradition of folk songwriters: Dylan, Leonard Cohen. Does it make sense that you stay with them?

I do not know exactly what they see in me or why they want me to represent a genre. For me the Sex Pistols are folk. All these labels that record companies and the media create do not belong to me. When someone talks about singer-songwriters, they immediately think of James Taylor, any guy with an acoustic guitar, people like Marc Cohn. But there are also singers who write songs, so fuck it. Jimi Hendrix was a singer-songwriter.

Was it a problem for you to switch from taking care of only the creative aspect to the work you have to do for the label?

No, because it's all creative. All art is made 75% for problem solving. The attention, the photos...are annoying because I come from a place where you only think you're shit, when you're not. I wonder every day if I release too many interviews. I do not think we need to make a lot of fuss.

Is it different to be in front of a camera than to be the center of attention of an audience?

No, because I'm up there and there is all this energy directed towards me that I give back to them. So it's the same thing. We are beings made of energy. Seperate life in these terms. I always understand when someone lies, they haven't grown up or are full of fear. The biggest fear that people have is that everyone knows that they are full of fear. People can not completely hide themselves, but they spend their lives trying to do it.

What's the weirdest thing about being the center of attention? Are you embarrassed at times?

The real discomfort comes from noticing how people allow you to carry this light on their behalf, they refuse to do it themselves. But it's a transitional phase, maybe one day I won't feel the way I do today while doing the same things I do now. Maybe that's just the kid hiding inside me who doesn't want to be rejected, I guess. The only downside is that I spend so much time being photographed, interviewed, meeting people, that I don't have much left to compose. I want to improve as an artist, and I have so little time. I feel like I'll never have a steady girlfriend, that I'll never have a home. I am constantly on safari.

What do you think about the interviews?

I think they are very dangerous. I make the mistake of talking to these people as if they were my friends, as if they were able to understand everything I say. But then there is the transcription, the revision, where the shit is cut, or maybe added something I did not want to say. You must speak very clearly and defined. If I were not afraid of being misinterpreted, things would be easier. I am rather shy about this aspect. I'm more for concerts. The live experience is essential for me if not, I'd die.

What is your biggest fear about success?

What will fly away, what will be taken away from me. But fear is an indication of exit, fear is only a door that leads you to both transformation and enlightenment...or perhaps just a tragic illusion.

Have you ever been aggressive in order to stand out?

No not at all. The only thing I do aggressively is express myself, even when I'm passive; it's still penetration. It's part of the movement. I am only interested in glorifying the energy of music for what it is. Exalting myself in it, learning its gifts, unhinging it. I get it wrong a lot of times, you know? But I'm not competitive. If I were, I'd be way ahead of where I am now. Even David Bowie would ask me for a job.

Did you have to work a lot on music, or is it something that simply came?

I've never made the conscious decision to play or sing. It was like a toy, another parent. It was my best friend, because I was almost always alone.

And now? What is the priority now?

Having the freedom to go where I want. Not to control the music, but dance with it, instead of making it dance with me. It is like growing, becoming mature and not burning like a piece of wood, like Jesus.

What do you mean?

The crucifixion is a monument to what people really want to believe, which is the unhealthy idea that suffering is the ultimate expression of this life. Don't dance, don't make love, but sacrifice. This view is quite insane. But without us, this God that people talk about wouldn't be able to dance, laugh, cry or whatever. I am therefore aware that we have a direct, daily relationship with the creator. I mean, when we become disinterested by acting like drunken children, we have war in the Gulf. But there's no point in getting pissed off at Him to make your life better.

What is the biggest challenge you have to face?

Being a person and bringing this to different levels, to the point that everything I get from music is completely altered.  I want to find different ways to show joy, sadness, discover all that I have to offer. And to do this you need discipline, time to develop ideas, to create different sounds.

And a nut that does not make the guitar seem out of tune.

No, I like that too, it's still a possibility. The possibility is music.

Saturday, December 22, 2018

Voice of an angel in a hard and dirty realm

Prince Patrick Hotel review
The Age, September 4, 1995
By Dugald Jellie
Submitted by Sai

A CONFESSION. I first heard Jeff Buckley only several months ago, early on a Sunday morning on the car radio. The Triple J announcer, Francis Leach, I think, was talking about an evangelical New York singer by the name of Buckley. The song was Hallelujah.
  I heard there was a sacred chord/That David played and it pleased the Lord/but you don't really care for music do you?
  On Saturday night at the Prince Patrick Hotel, Jeff Buckley, and his music, were alive. From the moment he started crying-his voice transformed into the sounds of a sitar as if to tell the audience: "if you want me to, this is what I can do"-everyone knew that tonight, in the bowels of a pub somewhere in Colingwood, they were in for something special.
  Buckley, squeezed into a pink top with the words "take that, love you" across his chest, mesmerized the audience for an hour-and-a-half with his visceral voice, playing the hymnal tunes from his debut album Grace.
  At times, with songs such as Lover, You Should've Come Over and Last Goodbye, his body writhing and contorting to each lyric, it was as though rock music was merging with the ecclesiastical.
  Was it that the lone spotlight shining down on the singer, guitar slashed across shoulder a halo?
   But between moments of haunting elegance, Buckley's voice and music also divulged, as with So Real, a hard and dirty realm, immersed in anguish.
  When I first heard Buckley's voice on the radio I didn't know it came from the son of the venerated late-1960s Los Angeles fringe folk singer, Tim Buckley; that the song he was playing, Hallelujah, was penned by the post Leonard Cohen.
  And it's not a cry that you hear at night/It's not somebody who's seen the light/It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah.
  I didn't know that Jeff Buckley only met his father once, aged eight, before he died of a heroin overdose. Or that he grew up singing with his mother, a classically trained pianist and cellist, in the car, bundled around southern California.
  All I knew was that his was an exquisite voice. It was as though an angel was singing for us.
  The highlight of the show was a mournful solo rendition of Morrissey's I Know It's Over, perhaps the saddest song ever penned. The audience, many of whom had queued for tickets (which sold out in two hours) for this small venue tour, were breathless.
  The only lowlight was the background clinking of drinks being served, and the sing-along vocals of over-exuberant fans.
  When it was all over, the audience exhausted, my companion turned and asked: "Did I just die and go to heaven?" Such was the mood of the room.

Sunday, December 2, 2018

Dream Brother at Howlin' Wolf

Live at the Howlin' Wolf in one of my favorite cities, New Orleans, LA on December 2, 1994. ☺


Original location today, still doing live music ❤️ (website)

Current venue (907 S. Peters, website)