Sometime late 1994, early 1995, I was hearing about a singer by the name of Jeff Buckley.
His debut album, “Grace”, came out in August of 1994 and the critics were raving.
I heard one of his singles, “Last Goodbye”, on the radio and I liked it but I wasn’t crazy about it.
Nevertheless, I opted in to a Columbia House offer to get a batch of CDs for next to nothing and I ordered “Grace” from that package.
One night, I was doing homework in my dormroom at Belmont University in Nashville, and I put the CD on to give it a once-through.
The volume was loud enough that I could hear each song but nothing that was too disruptive to break my concentration for my homework.
That was, until “Hallelujah” came on.
I stopped what I was doing, turned the volume up and started the song over.
I’ve been hooked on Jeff Buckley ever since. That’s been thirty years.
A few weeks after I was playing the disc on a near endless loop, I was on campus talking to a friend and I asked: “What did you do last night?“
“Oh man, I went to Exit/In and saw this amazing concert…this guy named Jeff Buckley.”
“Wait, Jeff played Nashville last night?“
“Yeah, man! He was incredible!“
And that was the closest I would ever get to seeing Buckley live myself.
Two years later, he would be gone.
He died in my home state.
This past weekend, my mother, my oldest son, Jackson, and I went to see the new documentary: “It’s Never Over, Jeff Buckley.”
I knew it would be an emotional scene, and it was. In ways I probably didn’t prepare myself for.
Jeff Buckley’s “Grace” was a lifeline album for me; one of three I consider my desert island albums.
“Hallelujah” was the song that reeled me in but every song on the album has been a temporary favorite at one point or another.
To be able to go back to it now, I have to be in the right frame of mind.
Because that album got me through some of the darkest and most vulnerable points of my life.
I have to be in a mental place where I can compartmentalize the past and just focus on the music and what it means to me now.
I’ve found, over the last thirty years, that if you’re someone I meet and you like Jeff Buckley, we’re probably going to agree on a lot.
Fact is, Jeff’s music isn’t for everyone. But for the people who embrace it, music probably means more to you than just: Oh, I like whatever is on the radio.
Recently, I heard testimony from a 13 year old and a 17 year old about how much they like him.
That resonates with me.
Watching the documentary, I was reminded of all the reasons I loved that music and also reminded of how, even if Jeff was still alive, he probably wouldn’t be the most popular star on the planet.
And, I have to assume, that’s the way he would have wanted it.
What was also remarkable to me, was that my neurodivergent son, who doesn’t know Jeff’s catalog, was lip-synching every single word to “Hallelujah” when it came up in the film.
Not because he loves Jeff’s rendition, but very likely because he first heard it through Rufus Wainwright’s cover of the song from the “Shrek” soundtrack.
And isn’t it fascinating that the one song that Jeff is probably universally known for wasn’t written by him either? Rather, it was a Leonard Cohen song with a John Cale interpretation.
And make no mistake, no disrespect to Cohen or Cale or Wainwright, but no one holds a candle to Jeff’s version.
There were parts of the documentary that brought me to tears, because I can’t know Jeff’s story without knowing what his music got me through.
Watching Jackson mouth the words to that song was the reminder I needed that music can touch people in ways we will never fully comprehend.
Jeff’s music, to me, will always feel deeply personal.
And when I connect with anyone on that level, especially someone who’s never delved into his music, it’s a gift to give: Here I want you to have this. And I want you to have a special experience with it.
For me, that experience came thirty years ago in my dorm room and the experience evolved over time.
The last time my wife and I slow danced together, it was to Jeff’s cover of Nina Simone’s “Lilac Wine.”
Trust me when I tell you, I couldn’t wait to share Jeff’s music with her when we started dating.
Over fifteen years later, he flavors the soundtrack to our marriage.
I’ve spoken ad nauseum about my love of music on this site.
There is nothing like the album “Grace.”
So, whether you see the documentary or not, I leave that up to you.
I won’t spoil any details.
But when you get the chance, dim the lights to the room you’re in, put on your headphones, or turn up your speakers, and start the album.
When you’ve finished it, shoot me message.
I want to know if you’re a different person than you were before you started it.
To finish this with words of one of his songs: “Lover, You Should’ve Come Over”
It’s never over
My kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder
It’s never over
All my riches for her smiles
When I’ve slept so soft against her
It’s never over
All my blood for the sweetness of her laughter
It’s never over
She is the tear that hangs inside my soul forever
(Photo credit Kevin Westerberg)
