dB Magazine, #99, August 16-29, 1995
By Murray Engleheart
"It looks like ultra industrial Vancouver during a hard rain," soft spoken Jeff Buckley commented poetically of his surroundings in Japan before deciding to put the line to music. "Vancouverrrr, during a hard rainnnn" he crooned. The thought of putting out a ten CD bootleg boxed set with that one single line with a colour book - nothing too elaborate-tore through my mind for a brief moment. After all this man whose heart murmur inducing album, Grace has established him as the heartbreak genius of the year.
Long departed semi-legendary America rock critic, the insight filled Lillian Roxon once said of Jeff's entirely legendary father, Tim Buckley, who died in 1975 at the tender age of 28 after a fateful flip with an incorrect heroin dosage that "There's no name yet for the places he and his voice can go."
Jeff Buckley is working the same side of that unmarked street as his old man, the place Van Morrison's Astral Weeks or even Dylan's Blonde on Blonde hails from where there's no area code, postcard or major landscape that could serve as a meeting place.
"Stream of consciousness is all I have really," he explained "I really don't know what I'm doing."
That involuntary mindset aside, young Jeff has been known to thrash away to The Smashing Pumpkins' Siamese Dream album and wants to come to Australia to see where The Birthday Party used to "stomp around."
But ask him if he believes in reincarnation and you have to wait for a few seconds before you get a response.
"WHY? What are you doing this weekend?" came the initial cryptic reply. "I have no preconceptions whatsoever about the void and about the end. I have not. Except that I feel there is none, really no end. I learnt long ago not to attach it to either myth or truths or mystic truths or special books written by people on earth from a long time ago. Not that I don't listen to it but I don't hold it as the ultimate truth because I haven't gotten there yet."
The strength of his work has allowed Jeff unlike someone like Julian Lennon to step clearly and decisively away from the far from inconsiderable shadow of his father's greatness. Acclaim has registered worldwide ("It's not something I expected or thought was owed me.") but it seemed to all come together as one when he palyed in London last year and all "the tastemakers" as he put it came out of the woodwork. His appearance at The Reading Festival was from all reports stunning which is hardly suprising though it was his first slot playing upstairs at The Garage when he jammed with Chrissy Hynde and what's left of The Pretenders that really sticks in his mind.
"I was a Pretender for 45 minutes! A very precious happening," he said perhaps unintentionally punning on the title of The Pretenders' tune Precious. "An awesome woman"
Like most artists whose work touches souls and hearts that were previously thought to be made of stone, gifts and good luck charms shower the stage when Buckley plays. There's probably been the odd bunch of roses placed respectfully on the stage as well, the sort of behaviour that Leonard Cohen-a version of his "Hallelujah" appears on Grace with the addition of a couple of verses-could probably identify with. But none of it distracts Buckley or detracts from the performance.
"I've had white businessmen together with their bimbos at a table in front of me when I was playing cafes and one of them was trying to impress the others and was howling like a wolf throughout most of the set. He was there for a good time. He was in the part of the neighborhood where weekenders come in and then they go back to their houses on Long Island or the houses in New Jersey and beat their wives."
"There's been riots outside, there's been fire engines going by. There's been a couple of mentally ill homeless people that happen into the cafe at night sometimes because they live on thestreet and the cafes are on the street. They're fine so long as you talk to them for real and if they want to talk you just let them talk and you talk to them and maybe even sing. The thing is not to resist it just to go with it. But if it's something really hurtful the f--k 'em! Might as well go ballistic and be offensive!"
Grace sounds anything but offensive, the amp buzz of "Eternal Life" aside. Instead it's probably one of the most romantic recordings in every sense of the term of recent years. Someone that pens such music must surely I figure have a devoted love interest somewhere so I asked what his girl thinks of the album and received several seconds of silence for the intrusion. Then just as I thought I was about to get the brush off...
"My private life is sort of shattered and re-attaching itself." he said carefully. "But the girl I used to live with loves the album."
Though he carries no marking Jeff Buckley sounds like one of the few people on the planet who should have a single heart and a woman's name tattooed on his shoulder. No full sleeves of work or anything like that just some compace indelible memories...
"I've been thinking about it for years," he said. "But it would have to be the right thing and I would have to have gone through something so transformational that it'll never go back. I have other things...on me," he laughed quietly. "But a tattoo has something to do with art and somebody else drawing on you and usually I don't really dig the art. Some things are really great but in New York it's illegal so the persons are hard to find but people get them all the time. You just go to Brooklyn or you just go to some secret guy's place. I just never felt the need so far, but I'm open to it."
It seems he's open to a lot of things. Like other prolific artists Buckley has used the spoken word arena as a spillway for some of his work. He has only done two shows or so but found the experience enjoyable and would like to do more.
"If I were a better writer I'd definitely do it all the time."
The scary bit is I think he was serious...
By Murray Engleheart
"It looks like ultra industrial Vancouver during a hard rain," soft spoken Jeff Buckley commented poetically of his surroundings in Japan before deciding to put the line to music. "Vancouverrrr, during a hard rainnnn" he crooned. The thought of putting out a ten CD bootleg boxed set with that one single line with a colour book - nothing too elaborate-tore through my mind for a brief moment. After all this man whose heart murmur inducing album, Grace has established him as the heartbreak genius of the year.
Long departed semi-legendary America rock critic, the insight filled Lillian Roxon once said of Jeff's entirely legendary father, Tim Buckley, who died in 1975 at the tender age of 28 after a fateful flip with an incorrect heroin dosage that "There's no name yet for the places he and his voice can go."
Jeff Buckley is working the same side of that unmarked street as his old man, the place Van Morrison's Astral Weeks or even Dylan's Blonde on Blonde hails from where there's no area code, postcard or major landscape that could serve as a meeting place.
"Stream of consciousness is all I have really," he explained "I really don't know what I'm doing."
That involuntary mindset aside, young Jeff has been known to thrash away to The Smashing Pumpkins' Siamese Dream album and wants to come to Australia to see where The Birthday Party used to "stomp around."
But ask him if he believes in reincarnation and you have to wait for a few seconds before you get a response.
"WHY? What are you doing this weekend?" came the initial cryptic reply. "I have no preconceptions whatsoever about the void and about the end. I have not. Except that I feel there is none, really no end. I learnt long ago not to attach it to either myth or truths or mystic truths or special books written by people on earth from a long time ago. Not that I don't listen to it but I don't hold it as the ultimate truth because I haven't gotten there yet."
The strength of his work has allowed Jeff unlike someone like Julian Lennon to step clearly and decisively away from the far from inconsiderable shadow of his father's greatness. Acclaim has registered worldwide ("It's not something I expected or thought was owed me.") but it seemed to all come together as one when he palyed in London last year and all "the tastemakers" as he put it came out of the woodwork. His appearance at The Reading Festival was from all reports stunning which is hardly suprising though it was his first slot playing upstairs at The Garage when he jammed with Chrissy Hynde and what's left of The Pretenders that really sticks in his mind.
"I was a Pretender for 45 minutes! A very precious happening," he said perhaps unintentionally punning on the title of The Pretenders' tune Precious. "An awesome woman"
Like most artists whose work touches souls and hearts that were previously thought to be made of stone, gifts and good luck charms shower the stage when Buckley plays. There's probably been the odd bunch of roses placed respectfully on the stage as well, the sort of behaviour that Leonard Cohen-a version of his "Hallelujah" appears on Grace with the addition of a couple of verses-could probably identify with. But none of it distracts Buckley or detracts from the performance.
"I've had white businessmen together with their bimbos at a table in front of me when I was playing cafes and one of them was trying to impress the others and was howling like a wolf throughout most of the set. He was there for a good time. He was in the part of the neighborhood where weekenders come in and then they go back to their houses on Long Island or the houses in New Jersey and beat their wives."
"There's been riots outside, there's been fire engines going by. There's been a couple of mentally ill homeless people that happen into the cafe at night sometimes because they live on thestreet and the cafes are on the street. They're fine so long as you talk to them for real and if they want to talk you just let them talk and you talk to them and maybe even sing. The thing is not to resist it just to go with it. But if it's something really hurtful the f--k 'em! Might as well go ballistic and be offensive!"
Grace sounds anything but offensive, the amp buzz of "Eternal Life" aside. Instead it's probably one of the most romantic recordings in every sense of the term of recent years. Someone that pens such music must surely I figure have a devoted love interest somewhere so I asked what his girl thinks of the album and received several seconds of silence for the intrusion. Then just as I thought I was about to get the brush off...
"My private life is sort of shattered and re-attaching itself." he said carefully. "But the girl I used to live with loves the album."
Though he carries no marking Jeff Buckley sounds like one of the few people on the planet who should have a single heart and a woman's name tattooed on his shoulder. No full sleeves of work or anything like that just some compace indelible memories...
"I've been thinking about it for years," he said. "But it would have to be the right thing and I would have to have gone through something so transformational that it'll never go back. I have other things...on me," he laughed quietly. "But a tattoo has something to do with art and somebody else drawing on you and usually I don't really dig the art. Some things are really great but in New York it's illegal so the persons are hard to find but people get them all the time. You just go to Brooklyn or you just go to some secret guy's place. I just never felt the need so far, but I'm open to it."
It seems he's open to a lot of things. Like other prolific artists Buckley has used the spoken word arena as a spillway for some of his work. He has only done two shows or so but found the experience enjoyable and would like to do more.
"If I were a better writer I'd definitely do it all the time."
The scary bit is I think he was serious...
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