Some days, life is not easy. On those days, I usually, listen to early
Metallica or Guns n’ Roses and stare at the ceiling. But one day, I chose a change of tune. As I was gearing up for a bike ride one sunny
afternoon I intended to head bang to Ace
of Spades (Motorhead), but an old favorite called my name from my CD
shelf.
As I descended the driveway, the opening
song on Jeff Buckley’s Grace swept
over me with the feeling of its namesake.
I coasted at an easy pace and as I rounded each curve, the shimmering,
melancholy guitar would ring. The ebb
and flow of the dreamy arrangement was perfectly in tune with dips and curves
of the pavement. Then, as I peddled up a
steep hill with the determination of an infant climbing a flight of stairs, the
unexpected, tense build-up of the song began.
To me, and many others, Jeff Buckley’s
music feels like an old friend. The
warmth and vulnerability is comforting, soothing to the listener. You feel the music relate to you like a
kindred soul. Many remember the very
moment that his music touched their life unlike anything they’d heard
before. My love for his music began one
winter evening beneath a brilliant sunset.
After learning of his death, I composed a poem about his 30 year old
soul’s untimely release from this world.
During Jeff Buckley’s short life, he
recorded only one album, but left a wealth of material behind. Buckley experimented with many genres of
music (rock, jazz, blues, and sounds seemingly from a different century.) Just a few of his notable songs are the
uplifting “Grace,” the loud and wild “Eternal Life,” and the
reach-out-and-grab-you feeling of “Woke Up in a Strange Place.” Buckley’s musical range also extended to
covers of Edith Piaf songs from the 1930s, and the haunting, yearning soul of
an old church bell that is “Corpus Christi Carol” Benjamin Britten.
Jeff will be remembered as a friend and
fellow musician to some. But to all, he
was beautifully gifted creature who manipulated the intangible mystery of sound
with brilliance.-Jocelyn
