There is a moment, six minutes 45 seconds into Jeff Buckley’s live recording of the song “What Will You Say”, that leaves splinters in my blood. The melodic tension that’s been simmering in the verse and chorus escalates into a jagged instrumental break, with Buckley jouncing his guitar strings till they squeal and blur. And then, as if punching through a door to strangle you, the song reaches a crisis point: “Father, do you hear me?” Buckley screams. “Do you know me? / Did you even care? / What will you say / when you take my place? // Well, it’s so funny now, / I just don’t feel like I’m a man / What will you say?” These last four words he sings in an octave so high that ordinary vocal cords would snap under the strain. The purity of the note he hits seems as impossible today as it did the first time I encountered it. Against the context of Jeff’s childhood (he barely knew his father, the cult folk singer Tim Buckley, from whom he inherited an extraordinary vocal range), these few seconds of his music resonate with agony and beauty, as only great art can.
I never had the chance to see him perform this song or any other. He drowned in Wolf River Harbor, Memphis, in 1997, a year before I’d even heard his name, when a friend gave me his album, Grace, and said: “Thank me later.” I was 17 then, writing heartfelt songs of my own, and struggling (as my friend intuited) with the aftermath of my parents’ separation. After Grace, I did not so much wish to be Buckley as I hoped to wander in his shadow and have some fleck of his talent fall on me. He had a matchless gift that remains an inspiration and a medicine. When I feel estranged, it’s the sureness of his voice in “What Will You Say” that I return to.
• Benjamin Wood’s second novel, The Ecliptic, is published by Scribner.
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He inherited his father's extraordinary vocal range but not his melodic and literary gifts. In his short life Tim Buckley turned out nine albums and scores of brilliant, memorable songs in a wide variety of styles. Jeff Buckley produced a single studio album, and his early death cut short a life of sadly unfulfilled promise rather than one of magisterial achievement such as his father's.
He inherited his father's extraordinary vocal range but not his melodic or literary gifts. In his short life, Tim Buckley recorded nine albums and scores of brilliant, memorable songs in a wide variety of styles. Jeff Buckley produced a single studio album, and his early death cut short a life of sadly unfulfilled promise rather than one of magisterial achievement comparable with his father's.
Thank you!
Tim Buckley "the cult folk singer indeed".
The fact is that Jeff is to Tim what Julian is to John.
When i listen to him sing "Last Goodbye"he pours every fibre of his soul into it.
You perspire just hearing it..fantastic.
Jeff Buckley was such an amazing singer. I miss his great voice. Hallelujah always gives me goosebumps. If anyone's interested, I dedicated a post to his album Grace: http://crashandridemusic.com/2015/01/20/jeff-buckley-grace/
When the list of musicians who died too young is trotted out Jeff isn't usually on it but he might just have been the most talented of them all.
Live at Sin-é is fantastic.
Saw him twice in Paris. First time was in a small club and start was delayed to midnight. I never regretted waiting. Went back to see him at the bataclan. He was an amazing singer, with a huge presence. I remember he sang a song by Edith Piaf. The atmosphere was incredible. I remember the shock on hearing of his passing. One of the only public person for whom I really felt a loss.
So glad u mentioned that part of that song, as most people refer to last goodbye which (although fantastic) is not his best. Although I love him, i can't help thinking of that Doug Stanhope 'maybe I'm out of shit' sketch...still, absolutely adore him for getting me thru my first and second years at uni!
I saw Tim play. He was engrossed, engrossing. He felt - the feeling I got - very alone up there. He was making sounds. Lots of sounds. You hear some of the sounds on Lorca. Sounds. He was living on into the sounds. An - this will sound corny - inter-galactic flight. Sounds. A most interesting caterwauling with a superb vocal instrument. There was nothing laid back about it. It was at time desparate. At times disparate. You know about flamenco singing - ?? - well, there is a zesting of passion, squeezed through the tubes .. and it goes whadley-whadley ... woooo ... Tim was out there, way out there .. a firmament where sound is made/ no .. not where sound is made, where sound is being born.
His music is an incredible gift to us all. I'm grateful for it.
Extraordinary singer.
It's so heartening and special to read something that sums up exactly how I feel about a piece of music- I know the version he speaks of very well! I agree with every bloody word of this piece.
I was introduced to the sublime Grace by my girlfriend at the time in the spring of 1997. It was unlike anything I'd heard at that point and I fell in love with the sweeping, soaring vocals, melodic guitars and heartbreaking lyrics. For years afterwards I was evangelical to the point of annoying to everyone I knew about Jeff Buckley.
Tastes come and go, my music library has evolved, but quality will endure, and I still have Grace on my iPod. Lover, You Should Have Come Over is one of my all-time favourite songs.
The way I feel now, is that Jeff Buckley was an unfulfilled talent - the material he recorded and the demos that he left behind are almost, but not quite, great, and are really only a tantalising glimpse of what might have been yet to come. Fate intervened, and we will never know, and the world is a poorer place for that.
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