Jeff Buckley

I've been geeking out on Jeff Buckley tonight. Hard. It's such a tragic story. But let's not dwell on that. His music lives on. I was recently in Amoeba Records in San Francisco, and the "Buckley, Jeff" section took up at least three rows. I think Lou Reed got two. For a man who only released one studio album, this is quite a feet.

Do you have Grace? Live At Sin-e? No? What the hell is wrong with you? Get them. Both. Now. I could go on and on, but I'll try to keep it brief.

Grace. Released in 1994, it was his only studio album. The true power of every song rings through loud and clear. You can just feel Buckley putting every once of himself into every note on the record. Never have I heard a record convey the true passion of an artist better than this one. It even translates through his amazing band on the album. Every snare hit, every bass line: you feel it deep inside of you. It is truly amazing.

This is the first record I listened to when I finally set up my turn table in Minneapolis. It was late one weekend night and I had somewhere to be. The volume was up and it caught me off guard, but it sucked me in right away. I sat on my couch in awe. Engulfed truly in sonic Grace. I think I listened to the first side twice before I flipped the record over. I was late to wherever I was going, but needless to say, it was worth it. That night I wanted to go out and make some serious memories. Make some real connections.

Live at Sin-e. The one you need here is the legacy edition. It was originally released in 93 as an ep, but an extended version was released later with two discs. It was recorded at a tiny club in the East Village called Sin-e in 1993. It is interesting to hear some early versions of songs that would eventually end up on Grace, but what really shines here are his many covers. He plays everything from Bob Dylan to Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, Van Morrison to traditional African hymns, and ever so famously, Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah. Once again, the sense of raw emotion is clearly audible throughout.

He recreates some of his favorite artists material, a brave thing to do, especially as a young artist. He transforms Cohen's original spoken word verses and gospel-sung choruses into a beautifully sad ballad conjuring biblical allusions and personal strife. I have very very vivid memories of hearing this song for the first time.

He trades Dylan's "so it goes tone" in If You See Her, Say Hello for one that recalls a man battling his acceptance of a lost love. You know he means he is over it, but it still hurts him. It hurts that she is gone, and it hurts that he is kind of ok with that. But what hurts the most is the fact that he can not fully let go of the idea of her and what they had. He keeps some of it with him at all times, even though he knows it tears him up inside. He holds onto some foolish hope for the future. It's not to say that Dylan doesn't say this- if nothing else, through his lyrics- but through Buckley's delivery, he brings new sadness to the subject.

One of my favorite covers on the record however, Buckley does not stray far from the original. The song is called Calling You. Originally featured in a film called Baghdad Cafe, it does one of my favorite things a song can do. It puts you in place you've never seen, but a place you have been before. The subject matter is very specific, but the theme is universal. As a listener, you feel as though you are on that hot dry road. You can taste the sand in your teeth. You know what the people in the song are going through, because you have experienced it yourself. Once again, this is further heightened by Buckley's powerful delivery.

I provided a few examples of the covers. Listen to the originals too. A good cover can not exist without a solid base to build upon. But really, do yourself a favor and get these albums. Listen to Grace as loud as you can, and listen to Sin-e in bed, by yourself. So much for keeping it brief.