Rockin'on October 1994

“I'm Jeff Buckley. Tell people stories and invite them on a dramatic journey, I want to do a thing like that.” A strong, beautiful, and overwhelming presence. Gospel after mourning, the first interview with Jeff Buckley.

Interview: Hiroaki Tanaka 

Interpretation & photos: William Hames

Translation by Tutu Fugimoto

Submitted by Ananula

  It's as if he jumped out of the screen of New Cinema in the 70’s. Intelligent and neat features with a wild appearance. Crude. Delicate. Silent. Sobbing. Milky coffee and stubble. A sooty sofa and a guitar that is always in good maintenance. Many emotions and landscapes flash back when I look at his snapshots. I fell in love with this man at a glance.

  Jeff Buckley, who was introduced in “character & disk review” in last month’s issue. He is the brightest 27-year-old singer-songwriter in East Village, NYC right now. The EP “LIVE AT SIN-E” was released earlier this year as his record debut (not released in Japan). I tend to think, in these days, "This is what it is," even before I listen to the music just because it’s by the singer-songwriter who plays alone. For me it's like, that along with his appearance, it was a greeting card or like the gospel. It meant the emergence of unmistakable "talent."

  The album "Grace" that finally released shakes our sensory nerves from the first sound. And by the time the vocal (an amazing range of voice that captures all the fluctuations of his emotions) arrives, listeners are invited to a completely different height. And it's absolutely beautiful. Not to mention “Grace” or “Eternal Life” which is full of sublimeness as the title suggests, even "Mojo Pin" which is sung like a dreamer's babbling, dizziness and fascination, everything that passes through this person's body shows universal grace. Cover songs such as "Lilac Wine" (Elkie Brooks) and "Hallelujah" (Leonard Cohen) also ring as originally written for this person, just like the blues that oozes from his insides. And his guitar-playing that has become more free with the band, sounds super-skilled! I'm on the verge of prostration for him.

  I went to see Jeff Buckley on a U.S. tour out from coffee houses in the East Village. The place is “La Luna” in Portland, Oregon. The first thing that surprised me was the smallness of its capacity. The cafe is only about the size of a school audiovisual room with a few tables and sofas. His shows are always sold out in NYC, but is he simply not well known in the West Coast?

  I was sitting on the sofa watching him who had already started rehearsals. Well, I was confused that I had met him so easily, moreover, the instrumental surf music was full-volume and loud in the bar behind, so I felt somewhat uneasy. Jeff is playing drums along with Ventures and Dick Dale music from the bar even after the band left. Kind of... a weird guy.

  His manager calls Jeff to bring me in. He’s smaller than I thought. I’m about 170 cm (5.6 ft) or so, and he looks smaller than me. He shook my hand with an apologetic face but I heard that he was actually very nervous because he thought he had to bow to Japanese people at this time. The interview was held at a nearby taco restaurant.

It seems that quite a few record companies talked about contracts, but you were very cautious about that, weren’t you?

Yeah. I guess six companies were talking about contracts at the same time. But it's very intuitive to find out more than to choose. Because it's like finding a compatible woman, huh? Columbia was the best fit in the end. It’s a very big girl though (lol).

I heard you have much distrust of the music industry.

Right. I don’t trust it. I grew up in California. I’ve seen a lot of people who have lifted up to fame and quickly thrown away the very next week. So I can't help being cynical. Anyway, I can't trust someone who can say "You're amazing" even though he's never seen your show before.

For example, "Musician" magazine featured 6 pages of yours. You only released one live EP at that point, and I thought it was an exceptional treatment.

That was too early, and too long. It made me a little disappointed. It was like over-complimenting and a bit romantic perspective. Now I only have myself, friends and the music. So there is no room for the past to intervene.

I think that "romantic perspective" must be related to the story of your birth. Do you have any resistance to interviews that suggest your father's presence? But I dare say that it's an unavoidable fact that you're Tim Buckley's son, right?

What I know about my father is something I heard from someone. Because he broke up with my mom before I was born. If you want to know about my father, I'll give you the phone number of someone more familiar with him. Well, it’s nothing to do with me.

But it’s not good for our side (that tells your story to the public) not to touch your “bloodline” at all. 

That’s none of my business (lol). My stance on the matter is that if you try to get access to my music through another person, you will lose or waste something for sure. I am Jeff Buckley, that’s it. My life, my music, is very different from anyone else's. So I'm not thinking of attracting my father's fans or hippies in the same way at all.

Then why did you go out of your way to perform at Tim Buckley's tribute concert?

Uhhhhh! Every article I read about that is made into something romanticized. I'm in trouble.

But you've at least managed to reconcile your mixed feelings towards your father by appearing on the show, haven't you? Like it became a step for you to get refreshed and do your own musical activities.

I gave a quick performance instead of saying, "I want to go home early because I'm uncomfortable." In that sense, it's a step, isn't it?

Okay okay, I see. I heard you formed a band with Gary Lucas from former Captain Beefheart after that appearance.

It's a project called Gods & Monsters that lasted only a few months. We wrote almost 12 songs. "Mojo pin" and "Grace" were made with Gary then. I was the only one in that band who was directly inspired by the music after all. Then I thought I should do it solo. Well, we broke up amicably, but that's why I lost my means of making money. I booked every gig I can anyway. It was as if I’m hurting myself. So I think it was good that I was able to push myself to such a point by being alone. I've come to the conclusion that it's a waste of time and a boring life to spend on anything else.

Was the musical direction fixed when you were alone?

No, rather I was trying to let the music find me. And...I wanted to be a chanteuse. It's like a pub singer in French, you know, a singer in a cabaret or some bar like that. It's just a word for female singers, but men can be one too. I’m doing it pretty much. It's like going out close to an audience and telling a story, you know, something like a storyteller. Tell people stories and invite them on a dramatic journey, I want to do a thing like that. About roots, it would be old blues singers. Robert Johnson, Howlin' Wolf, John Lee Hooker, I've been listening to them over and over. I grew up in the lower middle class, so I can sympathize with them a lot. So I admit that I'm modeled on those people. But I just want to get the blues out of me, not just copy them.

Do you mean you grew up in an environment where you had to store blues in yourself?

Well, I'm not going to go into detail, but I can't empathize or sing without experiencing it. I can't sing a song, even a word, that I can't put my soul into.

The artists you've covered so far are Van Morrison, Leonard Cohen, Alex Chilton, they're connected on a certain line. It's kind of cult people or like that. Do you select those songs consciously?

It doesn't matter who's song it is. I did it because each moment in my life matched the song so well. For example, Leonard's "Hallelujah." One day, I was intoxicated with so much sadness, I was totally wasted after drinking whiskey and practicing this song. Right after that, I went into the gig as I was, and I was screaming like an animal. I'm singing that song with those experiences in mind. I have to be myself before the song exists.

I see. By the way, your improvisation seems to be very interesting. Compose songs suddenly, or sing on the spot inspired by the appearance of the audience who came to the gig.

Yeah, I do it often. Basically I make good use of the space. I'm the one who makes up the music, and so do the people who are in the same space, the events that are happening outside or in the news, or anything like that. It's important to exist there in the very moment. It's nonsense to have a boring joke or any meaningless conversation.

Then, please write a poem about how you feel about a weird interviewer who suddenly came from Japan.

I don’t think you’re such a weird, hmmm...I don’t know. If it's a special place like a live music club, something will come out, I guess. Then I think I'll do something when I play in Osaka. I'll do it specially for you.

Why Osaka? Does it have any special meaning?

Nah, I just thought Tokyo was too big (lol). It's hard to share moments in a big place, isn’t it?

I can’t make it to Osaka. I live in Tokyo.

Okay. I'll sing your name. And I'll recite you a poem.

No thank you, I would be embarrassed.

I’ll do it for real.

Okay, alright, Thank you. But I expected you to be a difficult and quiet person just by looking at your photos...

I talk a lot, don't I? Wow! Tell everyone, “You should be very careful, especially girls, because he's such a dope! You’ll never know what’s going to happen! Wheww!”

  I waited for the show to start after this, waited, but the audience didn’t gather much. It was about 40 people in the end. Jeff brings out a candle from the table on the darkened stage and starts to string new strings from the light. After 10 minutes of tuning, the guys behind me who were chatting and laughing over coffee went on stage. The band members. This is the way it goes all the time. But when I get caught up in the whirlpool of excitement that comes right after this, I want to think even that was an exquisite presentation.

  Is this the same guy who said "Wow" or "Wheww" while devouring Mexican food? First of all, I was overwhelmed by his presence in holding the guitar and singing "Mojo Pin" standing still. Indeed, there might have been some people who had gathered to find the image of “somebody” on him that day. But that's quite a misconception. Who was standing there was Jeff Buckley, the overwhelmingly outnumbered individual. I can't help thinking that being in the same space with him is an incredible happening for me. The reason why he held my mind until the last “Kangaroo” is, not to mention the beauty of the songs and his rich and soulful voice in them, because of Jeff’s overwhelming presence. That’s it, no doubt. I'd love to say this, too. "Wow! This guy’s show is damn heavy and you must be captivated by its beauty that you've never seen before, Whewww!"

State of Grace

The List, August 26-September 8, 1994

JEFF BUCKLEY's new album proves that he is destined for greatness. Alastair Mabbott talks to the singer/songwriter who will play one night in Scotland.

  Whipped up a full nine floors by the wind, a small plastic bag drifts past Jeff Buckley's hotel room window. He takes this as a good omen-as if the auspices weren't already favorable enough. At 27, with movie-star looks and enough raw talent and vision to overcome the tribulations that inevitably face the son of a legend, things are already looking remarkably good for him.

  Already, he's been responsible for a head-turning live solo EP. Now comes one of the year's most essential albums, Grace, which features shrewdly-chosen covers of Leonard Cohen's 'Hallelujah", Elkie Brooks' "Lilac Wine" and Benjamin Britten's "Corpus Christi Carol". But it's Buckley's own songs that are the heart and soul of it. The opening track, "Mojo Pin", is an instant classic, delicately-picked verses shattered by thrashed climaxes of brittle, ascending chords. Hear 'So Real" once and you'll be singing it for the rest of the week. And tracks like "Eternal Life" and "Grace" show that contemporary American rock has bitten him as deely as jazz, blues, and everything else he's absorbed in his life.

  Jeff Buckley grew up as "rootless trailer-trash" in Southern California, moving from town to town with his mother and stepfather and feeling like a misfit everywhere he went. His natural father was the late, great Tim Buckley, but Jeff, with understandable tinges of bitterness, plays this down; he only met his father once, spending nine days with him, two months before Tim's untimely death. He prefers, instead, to credit his mother with his musical backround.

  Nevertheless, hearing Jeff Buckley in full voice inevitably brings on the sense of a family tradition being kept alive. And it's not just down to the fact that both were blessed with angelic vocal cords. It's also a shared eclecticism, a respect for jazz and a taste for improvisation, a passionate struggle the voice and merge with the infinite.

  His mother never gave him lessons, he says in his rambling but engaging way, never pointed him in any particular direction. "But we always sang. It was very important to us, music. Always. There was nothing we ever really talked about. We never really talked about our relationship to it, we just lived it."

  In his teens, he recorded his own songs at home and did session chores for friends ("for grocery money"), but between the ages of sixteen and twenty he stopped singing for anyone but himself and submerged himself in bands. "I was just depressed. My life had been pretty weird."

  "I had been obsessing about being alone, and I was in a band at the time and I was in a lot of pain, and just rotting away in Los Angeles-which is pretty easy to do-and I just didn't want to die anymore. I wanted to really learn, you know, that learning that you want to get for yourself, so I just obsessed about how to do it and I would write it down, write it down, how to do it..."

  "What I was gonna do was hang out on Venice Beach, get a permit and just play and play and play and play and play...anything that anybody asked and anything I knew and anything that came into my head, even if the song turned out to be fourteen minutes."

  What he actually did, in 1991, was relocate to New York and front a band called Gods And Monsters with ex-Beefheart guitarist Gary Lucas and Bob Mould's old rhythm section. The collaboration didn't last long, and despite the excellence of the musicians involved Buckley seems not to look on it as a very significant episode. "It was important, because it showed me that everything else was a complete distraction. It was just an impetus to get me into this with all the more conviction."

  So he followed his initial instinct, setting about solo gigs in Greenwich Village and its environs, the same stomping ground that Bob Dylan, Joan Baez and Joni Mitchell had cut their teeth on.

  "I started out with a lot-a lot-of old-time Delta blues; precisely to get it out of my system, because there's a propensity for white people to do old-time blues and it sounds like complete shit. Just sounds fake. That was one thing, but the real reason was to find myself in the songs. Because the whole thing about the blues, and the reason it's so beautiful, is that it comes from a very disturbing part of American history-I don't know any part of American history that isn't disturbing-just that you speak exactly about where you are and what has happened to you. And you make it very simple and you make it groove. The poetry in the blues is very biting, ha! I just got a taste for the metaphors and the sights and the visions that you see."

  One of those gigs, at a hip Irish cafe-bar in New York in August last year, was the basis for the Live at Sin-é EP. A disappointment by his standards, but a stormer by most other people's, Sin-é was the sound one young man with a Telecaster makes when he's standing in the corner of a bar blowing minds, playing anything from his own material to songs by US hardcore band Bad Brains to Judy Garland to Cocteau Twins.

  Did his audiences get off on all these different things being thrown at them? Didn't they get restless?

  "No, not at all, because it would depend on what would come before and what would come after, 'cause it was all about the show. The shows are like dreaming, and dreams will grab anything they can to show you the movie."

  What about your dreams Jeff? Do they inspire many of these songs?

  "Of course," he says. "Sure. But...mostly, my dreams help my life.

Jeff Buckley plays La Belle Angele, Edinburgh on Tue 30.

T-Bone's Autograh

Seen in T-Bone's Records and Cafe in Hattiesburg, Mississippi...I love it, very typical Jeff 😁❤

Courtesy of Arianna Williams on FB

Tower Records NYC

Another new priceless gem: the show done on December 16, 1994 at Tower Records NYC...short, as it was a signing, but I'm grateful to have it nonetheless...enjoy!

Setlist:

1. Dream Brother

2. Grace

3. So Real

4. Last Goodbye

5. What Will You Say

6. Mojo Pin (tape flip)

7. Lover, You Should've Come Over

Torhout Review

Impressive Jeff Buckley

Studio Brussel presenter Chantal Pattyn appeared punctually and opened the second stage of Torhout/Werchter with a glowing smile. It was Jeff Buckley's honor to be the first to fill in the meaning of this side stage: show the talent that's not yet ripe for the big stage. It is indeed doubtful whether Buckley's music works on a larger scale. But that the man has talent, that much is certain. He came on and started with something that resembled an Arab's voice with that of Bono accompanied by heavy chopping guitars. Not only the voice of this beautiful, young singer turned out to be surprisingly varied, the song structures were also, if you can still call it songs. Within one and the same song Buckley manages to go very soft and very hard and to do this very convincingly. Buckley wants to tell something through his music. With his eyes closed he brought that message. His companions were only performers in this, the script in which Buckley uses his text. Downright impressive was what Buckley did with Kick Out the Jams of the long forgotten MC5. The audience that had discovered the stage in the meantime knew: there's something going on here and, rightly so, nestled on this part of the meadow.

Eric's autographs

Courtesy of Eric Calderone on FB

"Boom" 😂

BK's autographs

"The first time I met him we were both having a Guinness before his show. I asked him to sign Sine, which just came out. He asked me if I ever dreamt music. I said sometimes. And he wrote this."-BK Kerns via FB

"He signed this another time"