In late January, 1995, while on tour of Japan, Jeff played live and acoustic at Azabu Studios in Tokyo. Enjoy!
Last Goodbye
So Real
Lover, You Should've Come Over
Monday, April 9, 2018
Sunday, April 8, 2018
"Thief Without The Take"
Another collaboration...this time one of two he did with friend Inger Lorre:
Saturday, April 7, 2018
Chicago Review 2
Chicago Reader, May 11, 1995
by Peter Margasak
Jeff Buckley's ascent to stardom has been bolstered by substantial MTV airplay of his latest single, "Last Goodbye," and this sold-out gig at Metro caps his carefully orchestrated rise. His first Chicago appearances were the intimate solo coffeehouse shows de rigueur for breaking new acts in today's industry. When he debuted his band a few months later, he played HotHouse and Green Mill, using high-visibility jazz venues to lend his distinctive rock music a rarefied air. After the release of his striking debut album, Grace (Columbia), he and his coddled image returned last fall for a pair of highly anticipated Green Mill shows. Unfortunately, the opening gig of this sold-out two-night stand found him thoroughly soused, a condition for which he annoyingly spent most of the evening apologizing. Possessed of extraordinary vocal abilities that range from the freedom-hugging extremes of his late father, the weirdo folk-rocker Tim Buckley, to the overwrought emotionalism of Robert Plant to cool-whisper cabaret crooning, he sings with the reckless abandon of a child running across a white carpet with a glass of tomato juice: sometimes it spills, sometimes it doesn't. While limited in ability, his band plays with stunning intuition and tightness, stopping on a dime to delicately limn Buckley's impulsive moves. After lots of practice at this rock-concert thing, Buckley's proving to be well suited for and deserving of the spotlight. When he maintains a grip on his wildly fluttering muse he can connect with rare power and honesty, and if he curbs some youthful excesses he'll be a major artist. Soul Coughing, the quasi-hip-hop, artsy-fartsy New York quartet fronted by the interminably dopey M. Doughty, open. Saturday, 7 PM, Metro, 3730 N. Clark; 549-0203.
by Peter Margasak
Jeff Buckley's ascent to stardom has been bolstered by substantial MTV airplay of his latest single, "Last Goodbye," and this sold-out gig at Metro caps his carefully orchestrated rise. His first Chicago appearances were the intimate solo coffeehouse shows de rigueur for breaking new acts in today's industry. When he debuted his band a few months later, he played HotHouse and Green Mill, using high-visibility jazz venues to lend his distinctive rock music a rarefied air. After the release of his striking debut album, Grace (Columbia), he and his coddled image returned last fall for a pair of highly anticipated Green Mill shows. Unfortunately, the opening gig of this sold-out two-night stand found him thoroughly soused, a condition for which he annoyingly spent most of the evening apologizing. Possessed of extraordinary vocal abilities that range from the freedom-hugging extremes of his late father, the weirdo folk-rocker Tim Buckley, to the overwrought emotionalism of Robert Plant to cool-whisper cabaret crooning, he sings with the reckless abandon of a child running across a white carpet with a glass of tomato juice: sometimes it spills, sometimes it doesn't. While limited in ability, his band plays with stunning intuition and tightness, stopping on a dime to delicately limn Buckley's impulsive moves. After lots of practice at this rock-concert thing, Buckley's proving to be well suited for and deserving of the spotlight. When he maintains a grip on his wildly fluttering muse he can connect with rare power and honesty, and if he curbs some youthful excesses he'll be a major artist. Soul Coughing, the quasi-hip-hop, artsy-fartsy New York quartet fronted by the interminably dopey M. Doughty, open. Saturday, 7 PM, Metro, 3730 N. Clark; 549-0203.
Thursday, April 5, 2018
Wednesday, April 4, 2018
State of Grace
Tutto, February, 1995
By Stefano Bianchi
Submitted by Niella
Translated by me
Visionary and "cursed", just like his father Tim. With Grace, Jeff has gained a prominent place among young rock poets. For an interview we went to Dublin and we attended his concert.
Scott Jeffrey Buckley, 27 years old, and born and raised in Southern California. In 1990 he moved to New York. The following year he performed at St. Anne's Church in Brooklyn in a tribute to his father Tim Buckley. As for his recordings, he made his debut in '93 with Live At Sin-e, a mini-cd with songs recorded live in the New York East Village.
He goes up on stage a few minutes before one in the morning. A bare stage, illuminated at least that of the Tivoli of Dublin, a local that prefers underground subsidies a few steps from the historic center.
Dublin in black, so that the night suits Jeff Buckley, the number one artist in 1994 for critics all over the world. Grace, his first work, has triggered comparisons with Tim Buckley, his father, an emblematic figure between folk and psychedelic of the 60s, struck down by an overdose in the summer of '75, at the age of 28. But he, Jeff, doesn't want to talk about his father; he does not want to be treated as a son of art.
An hour and a quarter of a concert; electric guitar with shoulder strap, accompanied by bassist Mick Grondahl, drummer Matt Johnson and guitarist Michael Tighe. To rattle off tracks like Dream Brother, So Real, Last Goodbye, Lilac Wine, Mojo Pin, Grace, Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen, giving life to a musical game in black and white made of whispers and screams, pain and redemption, clinging body and spirit to pieces that decoil in the seemingly quiet driven by almost imperceptible sounds, and then exposed in the apocalyptic fury of the distorted guitars. Jeff Buckley has talent or a thrilling voice that ranges from warm timbres to falsetto, up to a demonic scream. Listening to him feels like reliving the emotions of Jim Morrison, Nick Cave and Nirvana.
We interviewed him before the performance, asking him how he came down from the compositional point of view in the reality that surrounds him: "Above all, I'm stimulated by feelings. What I wrote is what my brain perceives, and it doesn't necessarily have to be closely linked to reality."
Grace, a scrapbook of musical quotes that revive the 60s and 70s, and for Jeff, "a sarcophagus in which to put what I listened to and listened to: Ray Charles, Billie Holliday, The Birthday Party - the song Mojo Pin, for example, can remind some things of Nina Simone. However, the album has not been conceived by modulating each song on influences or retention points; I predict that the listener can judge it as "my", completely personal record."
He doesn't see himself as a songwriter in the most traditional sense, but a part of a band: "I think the band you rely on is an essential part of the creative and compositional process. Kurt Cobain was the 'focus' of his band, but he would not have existed as a singer-songwriter without Nirvana."
One of the characteristics of Grace is religiosity, which highlights in some tracks..."I agree, but it is completely random. In my case, the Church has not monopolized the meaning of my words. Grace is a love song with strong connections to death, while Corpus Christi Carol is dedicated to Roy, an old friend of mine who gives me a cassette with this song by the English composer Benjamin Britten. I liked it so much that I wanted to read it in my own way. Finally, Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah not for the meaning of religious purity that anyone can see, but for more earthly reasons: pain, sex, orgasm and the cruelty of everyday life. I believe in people, not in heaven. Without people God would not exist, he would not make sense."
But you, have you found your own personal paradise? "It depends on the peace that I discover inside myself: and once found, how or how much I can live with it. Anyway, it's paradise enough to be what the soul asks of me. Music is often my heaven, and when I perform in concert it's there, at my fingertips."
By Stefano Bianchi
Submitted by Niella
Translated by me
Visionary and "cursed", just like his father Tim. With Grace, Jeff has gained a prominent place among young rock poets. For an interview we went to Dublin and we attended his concert.
Scott Jeffrey Buckley, 27 years old, and born and raised in Southern California. In 1990 he moved to New York. The following year he performed at St. Anne's Church in Brooklyn in a tribute to his father Tim Buckley. As for his recordings, he made his debut in '93 with Live At Sin-e, a mini-cd with songs recorded live in the New York East Village.
He goes up on stage a few minutes before one in the morning. A bare stage, illuminated at least that of the Tivoli of Dublin, a local that prefers underground subsidies a few steps from the historic center.
Dublin in black, so that the night suits Jeff Buckley, the number one artist in 1994 for critics all over the world. Grace, his first work, has triggered comparisons with Tim Buckley, his father, an emblematic figure between folk and psychedelic of the 60s, struck down by an overdose in the summer of '75, at the age of 28. But he, Jeff, doesn't want to talk about his father; he does not want to be treated as a son of art.
An hour and a quarter of a concert; electric guitar with shoulder strap, accompanied by bassist Mick Grondahl, drummer Matt Johnson and guitarist Michael Tighe. To rattle off tracks like Dream Brother, So Real, Last Goodbye, Lilac Wine, Mojo Pin, Grace, Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen, giving life to a musical game in black and white made of whispers and screams, pain and redemption, clinging body and spirit to pieces that decoil in the seemingly quiet driven by almost imperceptible sounds, and then exposed in the apocalyptic fury of the distorted guitars. Jeff Buckley has talent or a thrilling voice that ranges from warm timbres to falsetto, up to a demonic scream. Listening to him feels like reliving the emotions of Jim Morrison, Nick Cave and Nirvana.
We interviewed him before the performance, asking him how he came down from the compositional point of view in the reality that surrounds him: "Above all, I'm stimulated by feelings. What I wrote is what my brain perceives, and it doesn't necessarily have to be closely linked to reality."
Grace, a scrapbook of musical quotes that revive the 60s and 70s, and for Jeff, "a sarcophagus in which to put what I listened to and listened to: Ray Charles, Billie Holliday, The Birthday Party - the song Mojo Pin, for example, can remind some things of Nina Simone. However, the album has not been conceived by modulating each song on influences or retention points; I predict that the listener can judge it as "my", completely personal record."
He doesn't see himself as a songwriter in the most traditional sense, but a part of a band: "I think the band you rely on is an essential part of the creative and compositional process. Kurt Cobain was the 'focus' of his band, but he would not have existed as a singer-songwriter without Nirvana."
One of the characteristics of Grace is religiosity, which highlights in some tracks..."I agree, but it is completely random. In my case, the Church has not monopolized the meaning of my words. Grace is a love song with strong connections to death, while Corpus Christi Carol is dedicated to Roy, an old friend of mine who gives me a cassette with this song by the English composer Benjamin Britten. I liked it so much that I wanted to read it in my own way. Finally, Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah not for the meaning of religious purity that anyone can see, but for more earthly reasons: pain, sex, orgasm and the cruelty of everyday life. I believe in people, not in heaven. Without people God would not exist, he would not make sense."
But you, have you found your own personal paradise? "It depends on the peace that I discover inside myself: and once found, how or how much I can live with it. Anyway, it's paradise enough to be what the soul asks of me. Music is often my heaven, and when I perform in concert it's there, at my fingertips."
Sunday, April 1, 2018
MTV AMH Review
Soul Coughing/Jeff Buckley Rock the House
MTV News Staff, 5/6/95
Editor's Note: We found a pile of notes on the recent Jeff Buckley/Soul Coughing concert scribbled by our business manager, Steve McConnell. They were almost unintelligible, but after hours and hours of deciphering, we were able to piece together the following report.
Listen to Soul Coughing's debut album, Ruby Vroom, and you'd think the New York-based quartet were beat poets messing around with samples. See them in person however, and it is clear that they are from the New York white-boy school of rap (think low-keyed Beastie Boys). That was the most surprising thing about their terrific hour-long performance at the Great American Music Hall on Thursday night (May 4). "You all don't have to get up," said leader singer/rapper M. Doughty, as Soul Coughing took the stage. "I was kinda digging that campfire thing." He was directing his comments to the nearly 100 people sitting cross-legged on the floor of San Francisco's Great American Music Hall. Ruby Vroom has received some remarkable (and well deserved) reviews. The New Yorker called it "one of the best records of 1994"; Details noted that "this is some serious boho, Dada shit." Live, the group more than lived up to such praise. Soul Coughing is comprised of Sebastian Steinberg on upright bass; Yuval Gabay, drums; M'Ark De Gli Antoni, keyboards/samples; and Doughty on guitar and vocals. They emerged from the New York avant garde jazz scene (John Zorn gets a word of thanks in the album credits). Live, the group brought together elements of Morphine (the driving bass and narrative style), Digable Planets ( rap set to jazz samples) and the Beasties. But where Digable Planets come from the rap world and the Beasties arrived via punk, Soul Coughing bring a distinctive bohemian jazz sensibility to the mix. At the Music Hall, they performed nearly the entire album. Highlights included "Casiotone Nation," "Mr. Bitterness," "Down To This" and the amazing "Is Chicago, Is Not Chicago," which included the line "San Mateo is in the house." After performing that song, noting the enthusiastic response, Doughty said, "I guess San Mateo is in the house."
Headliner Jeff Buckley was in fine form, performing one of the most rocking sets of his current tour (at least according to a fan who saw the last four shows), stretching out many of the songs and improvising. Buckley played a taped-up red Rickenbacker six string guitar; his voice sounded even more beautiful and emotional than on his debut album, Grace. At one point someone from the audience yelled, "Shonen Knife?" "OK," replied Buckely, then played two minutes of a Shonen Knife song while the rest of the band smirked. Half way through the set Buckely played a loud and raucous version of the MC5's "Kick Out the Jams."
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