The Class of '94

Spin, February, 1994
By David Shirley
Submitted by Niella

  Sprawled on the floor of a mid-Manhattan recording studio, Jeff Buckley is showing off the newest addition to his instrumental repertoire: an antique harmonium. An elegant contraption of hand pumps, varnished wood, and ivory keys, the instument was purchased as a tax write-off, to offset the advance from his 1992 signing to Columbia Records. But Buckley has grown attatched to his new toy: "I first saw one of these on Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood when I was a kid," he laughs, his fingers dancing across the keys, "and I knew I had to have one someday."
  Buckley usually plays the electric guitar, accompanying himself as a solo vocalist in the small, dingy lower-Manhattan clubs and coffeehouses where he's been a mainstay since 1992. There's something disarmingly innocent about Buckley in performance. With his cherubic face, head full of curls, and shy, apologetic manner, he's the closest thing the East Village has to an alternative heartthrob. Buckley's real draw, however, is his voice, a pure, multi-octaved tenor that cn glide from the anguished hysteria of a scat-singing Robert Plant to the lilting, serpentine moans of qawwali sensation Nusrat Fateh Ali Kahn-in one effortless motion.
  The son of the late folk singer Tim Buckley (with whom he claims to share little more than a famous last name), Jeff was raised by his mother, a classically trained pianist and cellist, and his step-father, an auto mechanic who turned him on to Led Zeppelin. For years, he avoided singing in public, performing instead as a guitarist in a series of fusion and reggae bands. "I used to lie to people and tell them I had nodes on my throat to avoid singing," he now confesses. In 1991, he recovered his voice and moved to New York, playibg in the avant-rock band Gods and Monsters with former Captain Beefheart guitarist Gary Lucas, before setting out on his own in 1992.
  Even if Buckley's debut studio recording, due in early '94 and featuring both a bassist and a drummer, hits big, he plans to continue playing alone. He traces his passion for solo performing back to his heroes, blues singers Robert Johnson and Son House, and their rowdy "barrel house" shows during the early days of country blues. "It was just the singer, his voice, the guitar, and this tiny shack," Buckley sighs, "and people dipping their cups in a big barrel of whiskey. If you sucked, nobody danced. So I decided to perform in very small, inescapably intimate pkaaces-to see if I could make big magic in a really small place."

Sarah's Autograph

Courtesy of IG user friendly_time_traveler from the Trinity Church show ❤ "I did not line up to meet JB after his show, I was too shy, however my friends that I went with wanted to say hello, they had seen him a few nights before in Montreal. There was a couch in the back of the room that JB was hanging out in so I went there to sit and wait for my friends to do what they wanted. This is the freaky part because shortly after I sat down JB got up from where he was and walked from the other end of the room towards me😀 I was confused by this but next thing I knew he was standing in front of me introducing himself...such an amazing gesture on his behalf! Obviously, once my friends saw this they bolted over and we huddled and chatted. He asked us what we were doing after but being from out of town we had to catch our Go bus back home...I’ll never forget his kindness and was quite devastated when he passed away."

4/20/97

Marbletea's Autograph

Courtesy of IG user marbletea

"He was touring Grace and came to the venue I worked at in Atlanta. As they were setting up for soundcheck, I came down to ask if he or the band needed anything. He was very nice and personable, and asked me if there were any record stores in the neighborhood. I told him there were actually two really great ones. He said he was on a PIL kick and asked if anyone could go pick up any and all CDs by them that the stores had. I told him I could do it, and then half-jokingly, staring at the bin of vinyl he had there said '...if you give me one of those records and sign it for me haha!' 'Deal,' he said and reached into his pocket to pull out a wad of cash. I sauntered off and came back a little while later with a few CDs and his change. He was sincerely grateful, and grabbed an album to sign for me. This is what he wrote: 'My sweet Knight, thanks for the PIL run and for not stealing my money. See you again soon. Love, Jeff Buckley.' I never saw him again, but will always remember his generous spirit!"

Knust Interview

September 13, 1994

Written and submitted by Frauke Feilbach 

Translated by me 

A wooden table.  Sandalwood incense sticks in front of him on the table spread a pleasant scent.  We order red wine, Marlboros are on the table.  I introduce myself with a simple "hi." He smiles at me, and starts talking as soon as I say the word Clinton. "There's something about Clinton that I think is great: first of all, he's the first president I've ever chosen. He invented himself, and he has his wife. I have the feeling, I can almost see it, because I was raised by women, because he was also raised by his mother. I guess his father wasn't there, I don't know. For some blessed reason, he listens to what his wife says. Without his wife, he'd be some kind of political 'good guy', fucking around in the area. It would've been like that. He may be self-sufficient, but he listens to his wife. You can tell by his language."

What a questionable role for a woman.

Oh, no. It's the best one ever played. But the role of a woman must be strange, because the world is strange. Until the revolution comes, the role of a woman is like this. But it changes. If a woman can become Prime Minister of Pakistan, that is mercurial, but she is there, a beautiful woman.

So you'd say a man is nothing without a strong woman.

No, nothing. A man can not be a real man without a woman. To be a real man, you must have a wife (lowers his voice). Without it, you're nothing.

And us women? What are we without men?

Hmm, without a man? Well, then no women would be born. But I'm not talking about a cool macho right now. He can hold his hand over a flame, but he can't raise a child. Just because he burns his ass off and says, 'hey, look at me, I'm a strong guy,' that doesn't mean that he can raise a child, protect it, ask questions and know how to make mistakes. Men are always taught to keep themselves under control. Beautiful little boys are like that. It begins at school. Take a girl who made a mistake. She says, 'okay, I made a mistake and I admit it.' Say the same thing to a boy who denies it or tries to get out of it. I love this.  There's such a clear cut, such a separation.

I see that, too, but I'm raising a son alone and I'm afraid of making mistakes.

Oh, like my ma. It is, but not about the men and the women.  It's about male energy, something you carry inside you, what you have.

What do you think about your female energy?

Without it I'm nothing, without it I'm shit...

But you have it in you.

Yeah, but it's not mine. It flies around. And without my male energy...Look, sometimes I feel that there is a woman inside me who gets angry when there is no strong man. Like when you're in love and the guy is for some reason formless, unstable, sitting around idly all the time. You love him, but you get all mad at him. And that's how I feel sometimes. I once had this dream of a wonderful woman. She was like a gazelle. She was a girl. With big red hair, naked. She laughed at me from the top of a tree. I was in the woods, and she ran ahead of me, was much more powerful than me, and I became jealous. I realized she was running to my cabin where I lived alone, and while she was jumping in front of me like a gazelle with this amazingly white skin, I ran to my house in a flash and wanted to lock it up so as not to let her in. 'No, you can't come in here,' I screamed. Then she went crazy and trashed it all up. Finally she was lying next to me in bed and we slept through exhaustion. We didn't even have sex. When I'm split, I feel that way, the fight between man and woman. Without each other, they're just junk.

When did you have the last dream you can remember?

Oh, it was a profane dream: I put something in the mail that didn't arrive. The real last dream? Mmm, I saw something so cruel, demonic, infernal I can't tell you. I saw the dark side of my existence.

How did you deal with it?

It was on TV. I was sitting there in my dream watching TV, how do I deal with it (shrugs)?

Do such dreams have anything to do with your songs?

They have everything to do with my life!

Are your songs your life?

Songs reflect my life. My life is my life. Songs are like children who accompany me. Not even that. More like a hall of mirrors. What's a song? That's what the whole music business has been trying to figure out for ages, what the fuck is a song? I don't even know what I'm doing. It's weird and funny, but the music business is the weirdest of all, the strangest. Still far below the carnival business.

How about you?  Did you feel an inner compulsion to be a part of the business?  Did you become a musician with a vocation?  Did you go through some kind of initiation?

No. But initiation? I guess I had a lot, but not so obvious. I experienced many things with my mother when I was a child. I experienced it with myself, actually. Have I lived through an initiation to the music business, to life? Hm...It feels like I'm initiated to life on Earth. But everything always changes. When I soon turn 30, I will have a thirty year initiation to life on this earth.

I had a feeling you might have had some kind of spiritual experience, a first important one that initiated your work.

No, there's just something happening inside you and you have to do something about it, release it. But there came a point where I saw the music is a part of me. The feeling that everyone has when they're artists. I know many young people who make art and are afraid that everything they have achieved can be taken away from them.

And didn't you ever feel particularly gifted?

Oh, no (laughs). In California's school system, you're tricked in from morning till night because you're not gifted at all. No, not at all. There's nothing special about doing a song.

Then why are you so special?

Thanks, that's your opinion. My songs are always born and have to live, so here I am. I'm their ship, I'm their space.

They like to live in my house.

Yes, but sometimes they go away and never come back. Sometimes they turn out to be bombs (giggles). There's nothing you can do. I don't know. There is so much in a man that tells him that he is connected to the world. Sometimes you are already infected by speaking a new language that you have just discovered. You make so many discoveries. For example, if you discover some kind of eccentricity in yourself that makes you cheer. Or you make discoveries about other people you love. Or admired. You learn from them. Or when you have sex. Or if you have déjà vues, realize that you are connected to your dreams. Or flowers. I love flowers. It's an impressive plant, it serves no purpose except to be beautiful.

Which ones do you love?

The strong ones, the ones that give off a scent, like roses.

You also exude a scent in front of your seat.

Yeah, it's sandalwood. It reminds me of my home. I always buy it on St. Mark's Place. It's five dollars.

How do you feel on stage? Do you separate yourself mentally from the audience to express yourself?

No, no. What do you do when you communicate with people? A part is detached from them, a part is with them. Otherwise you wouldn't be able to talk to them. I never forget there are people standing in front of me, I just accept it and drop myself. Tonight, I'm going to perform like this, in this old shirt and jeans. Sometimes I dress up, though.

Why did you dye your hair black?

The old hair color made me sick, I wanted black hair with red in the roots. I used to have brown hair. You know, my hair is always an issue. My record label has my hair, but maybe I can get a handle on this and ask a woman for advice. Women are good for that, men aren't.

Do you think beauty and pain go together?

No, but sometimes pain is beautiful.

Many of your songs have both. I don't know what fascinates me more, the pain or the beauty.

(Long pause) Well, sometimes things come out of ecstatic joy. And the times when I feel joy-and that may be due to my chemistry-so even when I'm full of joy, there's always a voice in me that wants to say thank you.  I am so grateful. Thank you!

Is that why the album is called Grace?

One of the reasons. No, Grace is an important quality. I wrote the song Grace when I had just found out that someone loved me, someone I wanted. Suddenly I was no longer afraid of death, of all the snares and confusion of my life. I've been very abused. By people around me. Especially in LA. I had so many spears in my heart of considerable weight that I carried around with me. And suddenly I looked down and realized that the spears were still there because I hadn't torn them out. And then I did. Nothing mattered anymore. Not the hands that had brought them there, not the heart that had accepted them. I think grace means so much. A grace, for example. 'God is good, we thank God for this food.' Blablabla. But you're also saying grace about a body or a parade. Grace means a lot in people. The ability to look ahead, to maintain warmth, to preserve the part that nourishes life. Or grace as in dancers. You need grace to dance. Besides, I love the name for a woman. Or a man. Yes, I would call my son Grace (joking). My children would love me forever. Oh, I'd like to have kids, but now the time would be too uncertain for that. Not a secure existence if you always live in hotels. By the way, we're married on the Reeperbahn. At the Hotel Monopol. Sex for sale. The same old story. It was the same everywhere I lived, everything for men and boys. It doesn't matter how ugly you are or how stupid you think you are, you don't have to talk, don't give anything of yourself, you just fuck as much as you can and don't go to hell for it. Which I'm just saying is that should you ever go to hell at all.

What love story is in the song 'Last Goodbye'?

I was 22, she was 37. No, I was 21. That just didn't go well.

I like the line 'kiss me, please kiss me' that comes so suddenly.

Yes, there are moments when you feel like a kiss is saying goodbye to you and not coming back. Love's a weird thing, like music. But love is greater than anything, because it connects two different things.

Isn't pure love passive?

No, it's very vulnerable, but not passive. It's as passive as the ocean. You can put your hand in the ocean, you can extract oil from the ocean, but the ocean will always win over you. And whoops, you're dead, but the ocean is still there. You can't destroy the ocean, it can destroy you. But love's not passive. It's permeable. Movable. You know what's so great about the ocean? It'll teach you how to take off and fly. You sit in the sea and feel the rhythm, learn about the rhythm of the waves. It'll teach you to get off the ground.

Do you dive?

No, I body-surf. Every time we're on tour somewhere where there's sea, or water, I need it. That's how I get the tension out of my shoulders and my back.

Does that make you feel free?

Yes, but you only feel free when you surrender to the ocean and its movements. But I have to tell you something about 'Last Goodbye': It says so much more about the special love story. It no longer refers to a specific person, a specific place. It comes from there, but it affects everyone who listens to the song.

I'm not so much fascinated by the words as I love the music. It's so painful and beautiful at the same time.

I see what you mean. Thanks a lot. Wonderful, if that's the way you feel.

I thought no musician could do that for me anymore. Like I've been looking forward to it all along. I thought 'what a genius this man is.'

Oh, thank you. Really, I'm not. I'm no genius. Every person has something ingenious.

How was the atmosphere during the recording of Grace?

It was like the birth of a baby coming a few inches out of your head every day, but it's in the world now. Very weird.

Are your band mates your soulmates?

They were before that, but I love them, I need them. Everything's focused on me, but it's also about them. That's why I chose themm we communicate wonderfully with each other. It's a good collaboration.

Why did you cover Corpus Christi by Britten?

A friend I love very much gave it to me, it's for him. Besides, I love the song.

Why did you cover a Leonard Cohen song?

Because I find myself in Hallelujah, not because of Cohen. (Orders another glass of red wine)

The guy (journalist Jörg Feyer), who just interviewed you, wrote today in a Hamburg newspaper that you sound like Robert Plant from a time machine...

Yeah, that's what every guy who interviewed me says. All of them. Before you, only two women interviewed me. They're studying my bio and checking everything. They don't ask anything else. One was in Amsterdam, like 39 or so, with glasses, very objective. Even during the interview she looked as if she was formulating her words in her head. And in Sweden, a girl did a radio interview with me. She asked me how I'd keep fit if I was a woman, how I'd keep myself young. Oh God, what a load of bullshit. All right, to Plant. When I was a kid, my stepfather played Led Zeppelin to me, but I'm not Robert Plant. I'm more like Nina Simone, I'm more like Judy Garland. Listen to me tonight, I'm getting more and more like Judy Garland. You know, people love conventions, they love their place by the fireplace with the same TV program, and the same woman, and the same old dog. Same old story. They may want to escape, but they just don't take responsibility for their lives. They don't want to take responsibility for their longing for freedom, they then transfer that to the artists. Such people don't think of themselves as artists and so they project their longing for it onto other people, onto us. They're putting us on a platform. But the fact for me is that two people who make love already make art. They do this thing that starts in nothingness and evolves into this beautiful dream and then ends, but they have to do it over and over again because it's always different. And that's art. I'm not Robert Plant's love child, I'm not the new Led Zeppelin. It's not me. I am me. And those interviews until you were just awful.

Do you think you have a certain purpose in life?

No, I have a task in life that is different and yet the same as that of any other person: I want to find strength and balance, anything to fathom my human existence. That's what it is.

Why did you call yourself Jeff Buckley? You could have figured out that everyone's talking to you about your father.

When I was a kid, my name was Scott Moorhead. When I was 12, I wanted to know what my real name was, so I chose Jeff. It was on my birth certificate, but my mama used to call me Scott, and my stepfather's name was Moorhead. So when I was 12, I chose my real name. I didn't know it was coming out now. My father never wrote me, never called me. I barely even knew him.

And the people who keep comparing you to him?

What people interpret is more their own projection. I've been myself for a long time. I've already won that fight. There are the others who haven't won the fight yet, if they don't stop comparing me to someone who's long dead. But I'm here. Those guys, for God's sake! They're like little boys handling music like it's baseball cards. They're like collectors, they don't make their own experiences, it's bad...Thanks for talking to me, it was very refreshing. 

© Frauke Feilbach

Raves

Rolling Stone, September, 1995.
Submitted by Sai

"Crappin' You Negative" Grifters (Shangri-La) Usually rock is result oriented with a lot of bombast, but these guys are natural. Just by standing still they destroy me in a really beautiful way.

Symphony No. 3 Henryk Góreki (Nonesuch) It's the saddest piece of music you'll ever hear. At different times for me, it either gives me ultimate hope or just makes me want to slash my wrists with a house cat.

Allen Ginsberg America's last exponent of ecstatic poetry.

Nina Simone I love her taste and her sorrow. But it's not just sorrow, there's a lot of irony. And when she sings upbeat tunes, she rocks.

"Rough Power" Iggy and the Stooges (bootleg tape) It's the version of Raw Power that they brought to the record executives, who ran screaming for David Bowie to remix it. The guitars are much ruder, and it's got weird backing vocals. I love it even though I know bootlegs are dastardly things.

Shudder to Think They're the anti-rock stars I've always hoped for.

"Opening Night" Directed by John Cassavetes He has a realism that's excruciating because it's all emotional, and Gena Rowlands is gorgeous and tough.

"Bitch!Dyke!Faghag!Whore!" Penny Arcade (P.S. 122, New York) The show was everything you ever wanted to know about censorship, feminism, counterculture and joy-without speaking about any of those things.

"The Gemini Suite" Jon Lord (Purple) Lord, who's from Deep Purple, was commissioned by the BBC to write this orchestral piece. It's Spinal Tap made real It's the worst piece of crap you'll ever hear, and I love it. 

Hot Dogs The clean, New York variety. You've got your crappy hot dog, fragile bun, watery sauerkraut, ketchup and mustard, and it's only a dollar. It's like eating the whole city for a dollar.

Crossbeat, Jan. 95

By Goro Nakagawa
Submitted by Sai
Translated by Tutu Fujimoto

It was by a mini album called "Live at Sin-E” released in late 1993 that I made sure myself a rumor that Jeff Buckley's live show was amazing.  This small piece, just under 27 minutes long and containing only four songs, was recorded live for two days in August 1993 at Sin-E,  a cafe on St. Mark's Place, where Jeff is based in New York.  It is said that it was Colombia Records (or rather, A&R Man, Steve Berkowitz), who finally struck a deal because of a reputation for his great live performances, he came up with this live recording that he sang on a single guitar in order to relieve the pressure put on the artists to make their first album.  Then only four songs were selected from among the five and a half hours of total performances for two days, and they were released in the style of Jeff Buckley's unveiling.  It's only four songs, but it's not hard to learn about Jeff's charms and the greatness of his live show.  His representative original songs, “Mojo Pin” and “Eternal Life”, and two cover songs, Édith Piaf’s “Je Ne Connais Pas La Fin” and Van Morrison’s “The Way Young Lovers Do” are included in it.  Especially in the latter part of the cover song, which was played for more than 10 minutes, we were able to confirm the greatness of Jeff's performance as the song unfolded and swept freely along with the singer's own soul.  Jeff Buckley's "Live At Sin-E" was a small piece, a so called mini-album, but the worth of listening was just like an epic work.  About six months later, in the early summer of 1994, Jeff's solo debut album “Grace” advance cassette was delivered to a Japanese record company.  This time, it was with the band, recorded in a way that was inevitably close to live performances.  I was more and more overwhelmed by his freewheeling music when I listened to it.  And then finally in August, I was able to watch my long-awaited live show in New York.  I was finally able to see with my own eyes how amazing Jeff Buckley’s live show was.  On August 12th, I saw Jeff Buckley at a special gig called "The Best Of Sin-E" at Wetlands in Tribeca.  Jeff and the rest of Sin-E's regular artists, like Cattel Canek and Talking To The Animals, played in different locations that evening.  Jeff, who made his last appearance with three band members, has spent more than two hours for his tremendous show, either finishing the U.S. tour ahead of the release of the album or giving a warm thanks to Sin-E, where he made his name.  Almost all of the songs in debut album “Grace” have appeared, including cover songs such as "Hallelujah" and "Lilac Wine”.  On the second or third encore, Alex Chilton’s "Kangaroo" played for nearly half an hour on end.  (It had much more time and power than the performance of the 14 minutes contained in the mini CD “Peyote Radio Theater” which was released for demonstration.)  Anyway, once the performance starts, it's full of dangers and thrills and you don't know where he’s going depending on his mood.  Especially his changing vocals that followed by his sensitivity, moved me so violently that I could not stop shivering.  Jeff on the stage, who sang with a shouting of love, farewell, pain, and joy, looked strangely divine.  And almost three months later, in early November, I was able to see Jeff's live show in St. Louis, which resumed its U.S. tour after the release of the album.  My everyday actions are not good however, and I don't meet the deadline at all. However, I was so lucky to see my dreaming, Jeff’s show twice in short time.  Besides in St. Louis, I was able to interview him fully for an hour the day before his show.  Below is the part of the St. Louis's interview I did in room 305 of a hotel, like an old English house, called Cheshire Lodge in Clayton, which he talked especially about his live shows and the band among other things.  Incidentally, the stage of the Jeff Buckley band at Sheldon Ballroom in downtown St. Louis the next night wasn't nearly two and a half hours as it had been seen three months ago in New York, but about an hour .  But the performance of a band in which music is "alive" as if members, including Jeff, are trying to see how each other breathes...and his free-flying vocal...I've seen his show a number of times (although I've seen it only twice), and it's all nothing but fabulous.

In August, I saw your live show in Wetlands for the first time, and I got the impression that you are doing it very freely, whether it be playing or staging.  I'm sure your every live shows will change a lot from time to time, right?

Well, it would be great if it changed thoroughly.  But yeah, it’s certainly different every night.  There is a lot of room left for improvisation in the performance, so it becomes different every night.  I don't force myself to play the same performance, and the band members know that.

Do you decide the order of the songs in advance before going on stage?  Or something like “take it as it comes”?

Not like that.  There’s more rigorous side.  But I've never made a set list.  I know what song I should play next though.  When I'm playing the intro of the song, I can hear two songs that I'm going to do next from those that I haven't played yet.  And also what's the best way to finish the song that night.

Even if you play the same song, it will change a lot depending on the stage, right?

It may change a lot, but I don’t mean to aim for it.  If everyone in the band has a different idea, it will happen naturally.  In other words, even if it's the same song, all the members will feel different depending on the day.  It may appear in tempo or become another melody or improvisation.  Sometimes we throw guitars on the ground?  But we’re not trying to do that.  It's about enriching experience.  If we don't let go of the song somewhere, we'll never lose our groove.

You are playing in a band now. When you were playing solo, were you free to play?

That's why I formed a band.  It's like a Japanese ink painting.  It is very delicate and the ink always oozes out because it is drawn on very thin paper.  It’s going to make one picture by blotting the lines like that.  Even with music, I sometimes think it would be better to do it like that.  Making a set list may be a good thing sometimes in terms of that you can see the whole picture.  But as far as I am concerned, I hope that doing things freely will produce a different kind of force.

About the member of your band, are they coming together naturally?  Or you recruited them?

A good question.  “Grace” was to be recorded in September 1993.  Was that it?  Yeah, that was it.  Before that, I was still playing solo, but I wanted to organize my own band.  I was hoping I could find a cool member to suit for that.  And then I made it.  I was very lucky.  At first, Mickey.  Bass player, Mick Grondahl.  And Matt was next.  Somebody recommended him to me, and on the first night I met him, we made music together, and made a song called "Dream Brother”.  The band is a good match, and the fit has always been there from the start.  So, I went on as a trio for quite a while.  Then my friend and guitarist, Michael Tighe joined last. Because I wanted a fourth member.  I tried with all sorts of guys, and Michael was the best for us.  And I'd known him for a few years.  The band was formed that way.  It was so natural.  And yet it must have been an exceedingly hurried event for them, as they might have been carried away by a whirlwind, I guess.  Because I set up the trio three weeks before we went into Woodstock and started recording.  So first of all, what I did was I rented a context, which is an extremely cheap rehearsal studio on the Lower East Side, and we all shut ourselves up there and made music together.  Then I booked as many small gigs as I could and tried to do live shows.  And then we went to Woodstock together.  We can say that we are still developing.  There is a great power in the band to go farther ahead.

Did you want to create a different sound from the live show compared to the recording?

I didn’t mean that.  If the sound of the album is different from the live one, it is a result of natural evolution and change.  But at the recording, it raised new problems about the volume of the instruments.  For example, about the volume of the amp, if you want to record with a beautiful sound, you have to drop it.  To do it that way, the noise will disappear.  But live concerts, as I always say, are more direct and closer to the truth.  If you watch a live show, you can get a better idea of what kind of music they’re playing and how much more accurate it is.  You can change the tempo as you like when you play live.  And also you don’t need to think about recording time.  I know that would happen without bothering to think of what I want to play differently from the album.  I think other people's albums are not very different to their live concerts.  It’s not too difficult to do.  Ray Charles is exactly the same as the album.

But in a way, your music seems to be the most contradictory to the act of recording.  The most attractive thing about your music is that it doesn't become fixed in one form.

That's right.  Suppose we started playing and someone did something unusual and special.  But I wouldn’t ever say, like, 'What on earth are you doing? You're gonna blow it up!'.  Never.  Of course as long as we play in a band, there are rules.  But there is a rule just about how to play it, and not much about what each person does.  We should listen carefully to other members’ sounds and be aware of them.  And I'm going to express exactly what I feel.  In order to do so, we must always have our heart open, and we must being ready to be able to accept everything.  That's how you get into people's minds deeply.  But it's important to be aware of it.  Well, depending on my mood, things are often staggering and shrunken.

In a 15-minute little documentary video called "Grace" made by Colombia for promotion, you emphasized, "Processes are important”.  Could you elaborate a little bit more on what you mean?

Oh, that one.  I think the question was something like, "What kind of result do you expect when you make something?”.  And so I told him to fool your expectations always.  When you're making things just for the sake of what the results will be, you have to make things harder by fooling them.  The results are spontaneously produced in the process.  So you should take care of each and every little thing you usually do.  I think artists know all about it.  But it's hard to keep that in mind because there are deadlines, things don't go well by the deadlines, or you’re inclined to something else.  All the songs that I wrote, when I thought of how strange they all started, then went straight on and on as the way they are.  That's exactly how it was when it was written.  Men often say, "I'll make this song a lot more rocky" or something like that.  But they can’t do that.  Women can do it better than men.  I agree with PJ Harvey who said that women place importance on the process.  Women are more involved with this earth and the process.  I’ve been doing my best though.