Autumn’s onset marks the beginning of Jeff Buckley season, an era that spans from the first leafy crunch underfoot until the part of March where everyone decides spring has sprung. The winter months annually call for a seasonally appropriate soundtrack, and Jeff Buckley’s music is actually legally required to be on every iteration of a “fall vibes” playlist.
Jeff Buckley was an American singer-songwriter best known for his gut-wrenching prose and melodic vocals. The son of American folk singer Tim Buckley, Jeff made waves in the East Village music scene in 1990s New York City. Known for his harrowing lyricism and haunting rhythms, Buckley quickly gained popularity after the release of his 4-song EP “Live at Sin-é” in 1993. He went on to release the iconic full-band album “Grace” in 1994, and embarked on a number of international tours in the years following.
In early 1997, Jeff Buckley and his band recorded a number of tracks intermittently in New York City and Memphis, Tennessee. At the end of March, he began a series of regularly scheduled solo shows at a bar called Barrister in Memphis, where he performed a collection of four-track EPs each week. Ever the eclectic artist, Buckley’s solo EPs contained a hodgepodge of revised versions of his songs, covers and new material.
Buckley was awaiting his band’s arrival in Memphis to begin rehearsals for “Sketches for My Sweetheart, The Drunk” when he tragically drowned while swimming in the Wolf River on May 29, 1997. He was 30 years old.
“Grace” is the only full-length studio album released in Buckley’s lifetime. Devastatingly resonant and soul-crushingly honest, “Grace” tells the story of a tortured romantic. Regret, grief and passion are embedded in the album’s foundation. Buckley shreds on the heartstrings, power chords reverberating straight into the soul. Buckley’s lyricism is the star of the show, however. Perhaps one of his most famous lines of all time comes at the chorus of hit song “Lover, You Should’ve Come Over:” “It’s never over / she’s the tear that hangs inside my soul forever” is a visceral, wounding testimony to missing someone. As the beat builds, Buckley’s mournful moans sweep us into the sea of his mind. Listening to “Grace” feels like being pulled into a riptide, but each time your head breaches the surface, a gulp of fresh air graces your lips. It’s tragic and beautiful, sad, yet hopeful. Grace is a sensual and sonically consistent album, a near perfect work that alone cements Buckley’s legacy as one of the best songwriters of his generation.
“Sketches for My Sweetheart, The Drunk” is Jeff Buckley’s posthumous second studio album, released one year after his death in May 1998. Producer Tom Verlaine, best known for his vocals in the band Television, included tracks from private recording sessions and many of the songs from Buckley’s various Memphis EPs on the album. “Sketches” is an extensive, two-disc collection of his various projects, many only in progress at the time of his death and none meant to be heard by wide audiences. A sharp turn away from the soft serenity of “Grace,” “Sketches for My Sweetheart, The Drunk” is bristling and confrontational. It’s erratic and inconsistent, but its imperfections only add to the overall ambiance of the collection. It reflects the true chaos of Jeff Buckley’s mind, one that seemed too profound and self-aware for its own good. “Sketches for My Sweetheart, The Drunk” lifts the curtain behind the obscure musician, allowing us a glimpse into his artistic process.
Jeff Buckley was not an instant success, despite his famous father and proximity to members of the 90’s New York scene (like Patti Smith). In its opening week, Grace only sold 2,000 copies and it reached platinum status as recently as 2016. Buckley was wary of the commercialization of his music, and frequently clashed with Columbia Records management over the sacredness of his art. Despite this, they poured a decent amount of money into his “Grace” project and sent him on multiple international tours, which Buckley ceded to. Buckley admired the free spirit of Nirvana’s Kurt Cobain and the ambition of his own father, Tim, who’d died of a drug overdose at age 28. Although the two barely knew each other, Jeff was conscious not to repeat his father’s fate. He often poked fun at the cynicism of the tortured artist trope onstage in long monologues, many of which are captured on “Live At Sin-e.”
I believe Jeff Buckley is one of the most prolific songwriters to ever exist. There is something in his melancholic wail that feels familiar, and it brings me comfort in the darker, colder months. I often find myself enamored by the futile and devastating exercise of wondering what he’d be doing right now, had he not gone swimming on that fateful May night. Would he headline Coachella? Would he endorse a political candidate, or start doing Capital One commercials? It’s hard to even imagine Jeff Buckley’s existence in today’s world because so much of what he believed about the sanctity of music is ignored today. I imagine he’d balk at streaming platforms like Spotify or music statistics apps like AirBuds, insisting that music is a private and personal endeavor that belongs solely to the individual. He definitely wouldn’t be on TikTok. Jeff Buckley and his music seems to be frozen in time, protected from the nuances of today’s complex and unforgiving world. In this way, albums like “Grace” and “Sketches for My Sweetheart, The Drunk” serve as a time capsule. When we listen, we are transported back to the 90s. We can close our eyes and feel Buckley in front of us; he is alive in his song, and we are free from whatever nonsense is happening in our day to day lives. His music is timeless, and when we listen, we can transcend time, too.
Jeff Buckley’s music gives voice to the yearners and lovers of the world. Through a melody tinged with sorrow, Buckley expresses the raw, human desire to be loved. His tragic death only enhances his sound; his soft drawl is haunting, and each note is a reminder of a brilliant musician gone too soon.