Farewell Angelina for The Music Faucet

This cover of Bob Dylan's classic song was recorded live at WFMU in East Orange New Jersey on Saturday Nov. 10th 1991 on Nick Hill's "Live at the Music Faucet" show.

Dave's autograph

"Speaking of in-store HMV concerts in Montreal in the 90s, I was lucky to have wandered into the Saint-Catherine store one day and catch this amazing talent. It was weekday lunch hour, so just a smattering of people, and we were all treated to an amazing half hour of music. Needless to say, I bought 'Grace' on the spot, and the man obliged with some wise words and a doodle."-IG user @quietrotation ❤

JC Dobbs autograph

Courtesy of Gina Brower on FB

Jeff and the esoteric

A few things Jeff had and wrote I just found interesting ☺♏🌞♒🌛♌R

Now Magazine

Jeff Buckley

Eccentric stylist's gospel truth

"Punk rock was great in its time, but now its corpse is stinking up my life." Sensuous singer battles ghosts, greed and grunge

Music by Tim Perlic, 27 Oct, 1994

Submitted by Steven

  The moment Jeff Buckley opens his mouth and lets loose one of his dazzling, liquid, falsettos, you know singing is his destiny. The rumpled, chronically bed-haired kid was born to be on the stage just as surely as Wayne Gretzky belongs on the ice.
  The confidence with which Buckley swings lyrically on his eclectic debut album Grace—from a delicate Van Morrison-style stream of-soulfulness to a Robert Plant strut—makes it seem as if he just fell from the sky and landed on his feet walking, talking and wringing the neck of a Fender Telecaster in the context of his own fully formed artistic vision.
  "I approach everything I do as an experiment," assures Buckley from a stop in Asbury Park, New Jersey, en route to his Trinity-St. Paul's Centre gig Friday (October 28),
  "There is a side of me that demands specific detail and a certain flavour—the wishes of a foolish child who wants something he has never heard before and will do anything to get it.
  "At some point, you have to call upon your Charles Bronson instincts to get yourself through, it's that sort of bravado where you think 'What the hell, this'll work, I'm doin' it!'
  "I'm trying to overcome all those horrible music trends of the past while searching for a new life in music. Punk rock was great in its time but now its corpse is stinking up my life."
  Of course, there were a lot of bridges for Buckley to cross on the way to sculpting Grace with Nirvana mix-master Andy Wallace at the fabulous Bearsville Studios, deep in the fiery autumn forests of Woodstock.

New York

  Between the nights in suburban California bars unlearning the florid fret technique he picked up at Los Angeles' infamous Musicians Institute, taking odd jobs in hotels and hawking khaki at Banana Republic, it was a long and circuitous route that led Buckley to find his place leading two-hour hymnals at the always crammed Sin-é in New York's East Village.

Living ordeal

  Some of those bridges, like the one that stretched between Buckley and the father he never really knew—psychedelic folk troubadour Tim Buckley, who died in 1975 of an accidental heroin overdose—had to be burned behind him.

  It happened one night in 91, during a Tim Buckley tribute concert organized by genre kingpin Hal Willner, as the young Buckley
stood on the stage of Brooklyn's St. Ann's Church and began to sing a song his mother once played for him.
  As if publicly moving through a dimension occupied by his father weren't enough of a mind-warping ordeal, midway into Once I Was. Buckley snapped a string but continued on, pushing out the last few lines a cappella.
  "I got to do something there that I never had a chance to do before—I said goodbye. That was the only reason I did it. I fell that, out of everything that's in a stale of turmoil about that relationship, maybe I could put some small thing to rest.
  "There, on the stage. I was emotionally stripped down—stripped of my ego. But I think I came through it alright, although I didn't sing as well as I can now. I could sing well enough, it was just a bit hard for me to get out the words without choking up.
  "But I have no regrets about that performance because I got to meet a lot of beautiful people including Willner, Gary Lucas, Robert Quine and Richard Hell—who did the best thing of all at the tribute. Johnny Thunders had died the week before, so Hell did Chinese Rocks by the Heartbreakers. Nobody could fucking stand him doing that at a tribute for Tim Buckley, but I thought it was great."

  After interning as the vocal muse in Gods and Monsters—an ongoing New York scene collaborative project run by magical Beefheart guitarist Gary Lucas—and then backing the Commitments at premiere parties, Buckley decided to get out of the "gigmaster loop" and commit to a full-on band of his own.
  "If you're a musician and you're not careful you can become a gig-master," he warns. "You rot in your apartment until you get hired for a gig and then you go back and wait for the next gig. The danger is that you only work for other people and never get out anything of your own.

Grunge death

  "Then one day you end up in running shoes, sweat pants and a Zildjian T-shirt, listening to Nirvana on headphones while practising your Cobain chops for a new grunge band gig. That would be worse than death for me.

  "So I got out of the loop by putting myself in a situation where only musicians who came to my shows and saw me for what I was would approach me."

  As eccentric as Buckley can be alone on stage—sliding from Edith Piaf torch songs into lurching thrash overtures as easily as summoning up spot-on impressions of Chris Cornell or Buckley's idol, Sufi devotional singer Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan—it's surprising that he was able to find three musicians who could keep pace, much less want to.

  But Buckley lucked out by going with friends of friends—guitarist Michael Tighe. drummer Matt Johnson and bassist Micky Grondahl.

  "Micky and I sat down at my place," he says. "It was late in the evening so we had to play quietly. But you could hear his bass playing style was very elegant, strong and melodic. Not literal—more dada-like.
'Together we went to play with Matt, who was recommended to me by another friend, and every guitar idea I put out they would just natually close in on as the music happened. We composed the song Dream Brother that very first day.
  "We did a few shows as a trio until I got my friend Michael, who'd never been in a band before, to play guitar with us. It's taken a year, but now we're a band and growing constantly. The sound is more orchestral, yet the whole approach is still as immediate and wild as a fucking garage rock band.
  "I know the next album will be a very different kind of work—even more direct than Grace, but bigger in scope. If people were confounded by the range of the first album, they'll probably run to it as a safe haven in light of what's to come.
  "I can see it now—'The amazing, beautiful disaster pastiche of Grace is totally lost in Buckley's newest work.' We haven't started recording it yet and already I'm bored with the reviews."

Effusive acclaim

  For all the money that Sony sank into making Buckley's Grace album, and for all the effusive critical acclaim it has received since coming out two months ago, it hasn't exactly been tearing up the charts.
  In fact, Grace hasn't yet registered on Billboard's Top 200. The album's obvious diversity and longish songs would never make it a radio staple even for adventurous stations. Maybe it's time to reevaluate the low-profile marketing strategy, at least where videos are concerned.
  "There are no rules anymore." counters Buckley. "Pearl Jam has proven that you can sell millions of albums without doing a single video. I've done some research and I've seen video treatments of my songs, and directors can contrive to make an artist seem like anything at all.
  "In spite of the music I've made, they could easily position me as the next Boyz I I Men or New Kids on the Block. Most of the treatments involve scenarios set 'in and around the streets of New York' and about seven out of 10 call for 'an ethereal young woman.' Not a lot has changed since the early Duran Duran videos.
  "I'd like lo make videos that would encourage people to experience live shows instead of sitting at home getting sucked into their television. TV is a pretend world and videos are fiction. Music, for me at least, is not about fiction.
  "But there is a revolution going on here and I can't ignore it. I wanted to but I can't. Still, my main focus will always be things that you go to see, feel and taste."
  Talking with Buckley over the last few months, it's apparent that superstardom was never part of his plan. One step followed the next without any real plans beyond finding a place to sleep after the next gig. And for the time being, at least, that's fine by Buckley.
  "I'm 27 years old. My youth is almost gone and I have no idea how the rest of my life is going to turn out. Anything could happen. Who knows. I might fall in love with a drug addict tomorrow and spend the rest of my life holding her up.
  "So I'm not making any rash decisions about the future. I don't need to take over the world—I don't even need a car."

Ryuko-tsushin, February, 1995

Interviewer unlisted

Translation by Tutu Fujimoto

“Be moved by music” —— Jeff Buckley's voice evokes such a primordial feeling.  This beautiful young man, who says "As long as I open my heart, music flows naturally into the blood vessels,” is the greatest newcomer of 1994 across all the genres, a rare singer, songwriter and guitar player raised by the East Village, NYC. Before his coming to Japan for the first time at the end of January, an interview with Jeff, who dislikes interviews, was done.

  “ 'Because I might die tomorrow, so...I’ll take it.’ The reason I decided on the contract was kind of like that (lol).”

  Jeff Buckley was not in any hurry to make his debut. He has no experience promoting himself. He says he didn’t realize it until the time he got interviewed.
  “Why? Because, first of all, I thought my music was nothing more than trash. Second, I couldn't trust the music industry. I've had many chances in the past, but I let it pass by.”
  He has been playing guitar since the age of five, and he does not remember "deciding to become" a musician. “But I was clearly aware of what kind of world I belonged to. I’ve been there—The night world, the bar, life beyond one place, music, and me continuing to sing...It's like I've lived my life confirming those things.”
  It was three years ago that Jeff, who grew up in various parts of California, came to New York City in search of a new world.
  “New York City is really a city of artists that intensely inspires us. They find a reason for existence in their own art. Whether it's theater or music, they express their arts in their most eccentric ways. Otherwise, they're ruined. I don’t mean that I choose to be a musician because I don’t  want to be a waiter at all. It’s because I'll go mad without music.”
  It was in 1991 that the world learned of Jeff's existence when he appeared in a tribute concert of Tim Buckley (Jeff’s real father, a popular cult singer-songwriter who died of drug addiction in 1975, divorced Jeff’s mother before he was born). But he had doubts that only the comparison with his father would be talked about, so he chose underground activities and continued his life in the East Village, playing the guitar in clubs and coffee houses.
  Even though he was his biological father, Jeff spent only 9 days with his father. It’s only natural that they have something in common as long as they are related by blood, however, it’s actually his mother who loves music, and his stepfather who gave him musical influences. How he has absorbed a wide range of music is obvious at a glance if you look at his favorite musicians. Edith Piaf, Led Zeppelin, James Brown, Joni Mitchell, The Beatles, The Smiths, Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, Billie Holiday, Leonard Cohen...Jeff, who covers their songs on both albums and live shows, calls himself the "worst hero worshipper."
  “Music was always playing in my house and I have no resistance to music constitutionally. I want to touch all the sounds that excite me and make me drunk. As long as I open my heart, music flows naturally into the blood vessels no matter what languages the songs are sung in. The music always drifts around us, and the moment it goes down, it flies away again, like a sparrow. Music is not an art form for me. I think it's a force of nature, like the ocean."
  Thereafter, Jeff's live performance reputation attracted interest in the music industry, and after a battle between record companies, he finally signed a contract in 1992. It was when he was 26 years old. “I felt confident in my direction and the time was ripe. And since I found someone I can trust in the record company,” he looks back at it. After releasing a live EP at the end of last year, he started recording with three local musicians in a band. His debut album "Grace" was released in August this year. "Grace," which is considered by many to be the best album of 1994, is a beautiful work with an overwhelming presence and personality.
  However, an image of a "genius artist" doesn't suit him. A charming young man who talks a lot and is as innocent as a child laughs, "I was surprised to see a pompous and unrealistic image about me go out of my control.” He seems to have a reality that can be felt from experience.
  “All my favorite artists get their fuel of creation by their everyday lives and their lifetime itself. It's not only autobiographical, but I can't sing what I haven't experienced. I'm just expressing what I can't shape inside of me.
  The way of expression is his voice (although it is true that he is also a unique songwriter). People forget to share Jeff’s emotions and even the need to understand his lyrics when they hear the "miracle voice" that, “I came to as I was looking for the best way to express myself.” In fact, he refused to include lyrics in the album (only English lyrics were allowed in the Japanese edition after negotiations). “I wanted you to just feel it without looking at the words. Find it in the dark and apply it to your experience, that’s enough. So-called song takes on a life of its own out of my control.”
   Jeff asks for his ideal image as a singer in the word "chanteuse”. It is a French noun meaning "female singer". "What I draw in the word 'chanteuse' is, for example, a person like Edith Piaf or Judy Garland who makes people feel comfortable just by singing. Nina Simone and Ray Charles are the same. I'm really attracted to that point. That's why I'm aiming to be the best chanteuse in my own way. It's like a drag queen to call myself Chanteuse, but that's also good. Sometimes we need ridiculous vanity (lol).”

The things that were confined in a "coffin" called "Grace"

  There’s a song called “Eternal Life” on the album. While there are many songs about private things, for Jeff, it's very straightforward and diplomatic...when I was about to say that, he said, "The song frankly shows the person I am," and began to go on to the next.
  “I have been fascinated by historical atrocities since I was a child. Anything, from Charles Manson to Nazis. What is it about peoples' dark side taking over? Why the fascination? And my own as well. I wanted to know the reason.
  I was thinking about Tipper Gore (Mrs. Gore, the second lady, who organized a protest movement pointing out the negative effects of music on young people. Content warning signs were introduced) while writing this song. She took advantage of the fears of mothers all over the country. Actions derived from fear always produce some form of violence or blasphemy. The blasphemy she commits against art leaves a scar deeper than any murder. "Eternal Life" is my cry for such a reality, racism, and religious atrocities. ‘There is no salvation for people who meddle in other people's lives for personal gain.’ That's the basic message.”
  Here he paused, and Jeff started to speak as if he had thought twice.
  “But this is also about me. In short, everyone should own their own darkside. Don't think others are better killers or thieves than you are. You should accept the part that you want to turn away. The more you reject it, the more you are swallowed up by the darkness, and it is an incomplete person...I'm saying it importantly, but I just hope this song is logical like that (lol).”
  And Jeff added, " ’Grace’ is a terrifyingly romantic and lovely album." What gives romanticism to his songs is the tenderness and generous praise he gives to women, I guess.
  “It's just the result of giving words to the passion in my heart. It's women who drive my life. I can't exist without women. How can I say..., I'm in trouble if the girls and boys inside me don't get along with each other. In the end, it's not a woman thing, it's a sign of my feminine side. I mean, it’s about me who can understand what I am. I have kind of a continuous stream of consciousness, and I can't think logically. That's a tendency that women tend to have. Maybe that’s why I can sympathize with them.”

A year after his record debut, a future that the success leads Jeff is...

  When I asked if there had been any changes in his life since he entered the music industry, he clearly replied, "No”. The strategy of minimizing advertising seems to have worked. He has been touring vigorously since his debut, but the venues are limited to very small clubs.
  “Even if there wasn’t record companies in the first place, I will continue to create music. I'm always used to a life on the road, and that way of life is an irreplaceable treasure to me. I definitely don't want to lose it. It's kind of addictive. I want to build myself slowly. I want time and space for thinking in order to have a real existence. I don't want to force myself into other people's lives. The reason people listen to music is not because they are forced by someone, but because they need it, like milk.”
  However, it is also true that Jeff has already begun his career as a star.
  “But the real rock stars are like Brett of Suede. It's a glamorous object of worship. For example, even if he and I were equally famous, everyone would tremble and say, ‘Oh my God’ in front of Brett, but they would be like, ‘Yo, what’s up’ to me, I swear (lol). I may be a bit of a rock star, but I can't handle the fame at all. I didn't choose music because I wanted to be famous, and if so (if he wanted to be famous), I'd assassinate the president from the beginning. The artists are famous so that their records sell well, and we can make ends meet and keep our lives. I admit that's a part of art. After all, it's mass art. It can't be done without an audience, and that's great. But it's also for myself that I create music. Music never leaves my side.”

  So, for Jeff, what does success as an artist mean?

  “Just keep looking for the answers day by day, and I want to be smart enough to be able to identify what's important to me. And make sure to earn enough to live on! I have a place to live, so it's not a lot of money. Because my staple food is Doritos and coffee (lol). Art is the top priority anyway. And to challenge how strong a human being can be...To have lots of courage and lots of scars. But I'm especially devoted to courage. And to find joy. To act cool (lol). To hang around for free and hit on girls a lot (lol).
  But why, now and in the future, I don't want to be famous at all? Because I don't want to lose contact with the outside world, I mean, the warmth of my daily life, definitely. Everyday life and people, I can’t live without these two. I'm sure I'll kill myself...Or I'll look for another job.”
  For example?
  “Well, what about garbage collectors? That is, a super groovy one (lol)...In the end, it's all a gesture of defiance. It’s a set up battle somewhere. Life is, on the one hand, it’s kind of like dancing, and on the other, it's a disgusting defiance to fight against enemies that interfere with our own happiness. I don't know how my music affects people, but I can say this: powerful and fearless music takes me to an unknown world.”
  Jeff picked up the "Rolling Stone" magazine nearby.  Jeff was included the feature article, which brings together young alternative artists responsible for American music. He glanced at its title “Future of Rock”, and let out, “It must be ‘Doom of Rock’.”
  While keeping contact with all kinds of music, Jeff does not belong anywhere. There is no place for this freewheeling poet even in the category of alternatives.
  “I still can't see what lurks in me,” he muttered. Jeff comes to Japan soon. Listening to his whispering, sighing, and trembling voice with our breaths held, let's wait and see the way his infinite possibilities are revealed.

T-Bird's Interview

Another case of "it somehow slipped through my fingers": an interview done with WHTG in Asbury Park, NJ on February 25, 1994 ahead of his show at T-Bird's Cafe.