Jeff Buckley’s Grace is released. It would be the musician’s only studio album released during his lifetime.

When writing about JEFF BUCKLEY’s Grace, and its effect on the music world, it’s difficult to know where to begin and where to end. As a musician, JEFF BUCKLEY was truly one of a kind, at least in the sense that, perhaps the world had forgotten what a modern day troubadour was all about.

The music scene of the day was a turbulent and exciting one. Alternative radio itself had become one giant Battle of the Bands. Like a double shot of espresso straight from Seattle’s Starbucks, radio station playlists had received their wake-up call, but the reigns of King COBAIN and Emperor VEDDER and the counsel of the brothers GALLAGHER had already overstayed their welcome, thanks to some studio suits who had decided they knew the secret formula behind what was cool. Labels began to force-feed kids 90210 Gap grunge (see: Rossdale, Gavin) and Abercrombie Brit-pop, and the kids, to maybe no one’s surprise, wouldn’t bite (or buy).

Let’s not forget the Hip Hop scene, which may have been even more vital at the time, with the rise of Gangsta rap thanks to the likes of DR. DRE, THE WU TANG CLAN and SNOOP DOGG, who all made the boisterous (and in retrospect, partially accurate) claims that their ghetto New World Order was here to stay.

And in the middle of all this, was JEFF BUCKLEY, a sheer anomaly. He was a man who grew up worshipping BOB DYLAN, THE SMITHS and NINA SIMONE. It’s a true testament to JEFF BUCKLEY that after ten years, even among this ever constant climate of change, his music has not only survived, but thrived, perhaps even finding a wider audience than when he was alive.

While at times pretentious, Jeff Buckley possessed no poser routine; he was completely genuine, and that’s what made his attitude so refreshing. He wasn’t simply some rock cliché who tries so hard to break out of the cliché that he walks right smack into it, like RYAN ADAMS. He wasn’t like PEARL JAM’s VEDDER, who the media tried to sell as being on the verge of self-destruction (the next COBAIN, they may have secretly hoped), and who may have been guilty of courting that image more than slightly himself. BUCKLEY was far too under the radar to get such mainstream attention. The truth is, BUCKLEY had every opportunity to sell-out and bed the media whores. To be certain, BUCKLEY was calculated, however, winning mainstream appeal through these means would not fit into his equation. Afterall, this was the man that reputably turned down a modeling gig from Calvin Klein. The truth is, BUCKLEY was too “Bohemian Rhapsody” to ever be Banana Republic. He was hell-bent on handcrafting a musical legacy, even going to great lengths to hone his skills at wall-to-wall packed café performances, like his 60s idols had done, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he would seduce the rest of the world, on his terms.

JEFF BUCKLEY was wise enough, even in his early years, to know that it was all about his otherworldly talent. This level of talent was surreal. And for all of BUCKLEY’s detractors who said his voice was overly self-indulgent, which at times it was, when Grace was released, BUCKLEY was simultaneously at the top of his game and in essence, just cutting his teeth.

BUCKLEY had a blueprint that he seemed to be following, probably scribbled on the back of some faded notebook, that closely copied the same inner workings, cogs, gears, and motivations as a DYLAN, or even in some ways, a LENNON, but unlike them, BUCKLEY’s revolution was not political in its nature. For him, it was all about the music. BUCKLEY had no war to fight. And while the times may have needed changing, BUCKLEY’s music, at its best, wasn’t about marching through the trenches and seeking poetic justice. Grace was about reminding the world that there wasn’t black or white or even gray. The soul was transparent. The times were endless. Life was eternal.

June 4, 1997.

After being lost in the water for six days, JEFF BUCKLEY’s body is spotted by a passenger on a riverboat near the mouth of the Mississippi.

The Tributes: Everyone from DUNCAN SHEIK to COURTNEY LOVE has penned odes to JEFF BUCKLEY. This is proof-positive that BUCKLEY’s work and subsequent influence knew no boundaries. One of the most memorable tributes was CHRIS CORNELL’s “Wave Goodbye.” Apparently CORNELL and BUCKLEY had a deep admiration and shared a friendship. CORNELL also participated with Jeff’s mother, Mary Guibert, in assembling the posthumous release (Sketches for) My Sweetheart the Drunk.

After SOUNDGARDEN disbanded, CORNELL may have envisioned himself taking a similar career path as BUCKLEY. He released Euphoria Morning, which had a strong BUCKLEY vibe to it, and contained the BUCKLEY tribute “Wave Goodbye.” CORNELL’s solo debut was not met with commercial success, and while working on material for a follow-up, CORNELL took a U-turn and joined alongside RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE cast-offs to form supergroup AUDIOSLAVE. On “Wave Goodbye,” CORNELL sings, “Nobody ever lives forever so you give it one more try / To wave goodbye….”

PJ HARVEY also released “Memphis,” which was a B-side to the single “Good Fortune,” and is worth hunting down. HARVEY laments: “Die suddenly at a wonderful age/
Though were you ready, were you ready to go? /
When you still got so much to say /
Somehow I know you’re drowning slow /
Receiving just everything /
But oh /
What a way to go /
I know that /
You’re smiling.

The Thieves: Some artists have taken to liberally paying homage to BUCKLEY through their vocal styles. On Kalifornication, ANTHONY KEIDIS of the RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS started reaching for a little higher ground with his notes (and hitting them). Others, like RADIOHEAD’s THOM YORKE, and COLDPLAY’s CHRIS MARTIN, seem to make it no secret that BUCKLEY’s is the voice they hear when they sing in the shower of their tour buses. Brit-popsters STARSAILOR pay tribute in name to JEFF’s father TIM BUCKLEY, and in voice to JEFF. Even recently, RYAN ADAMS has taken to channeling BUCKLEY with his album ROCK N ROLL. And then there’s the embarrassing marketing ploy known as OURS, a group that unabashedly rapes and pillages the style of BUCKLEY, right down to the lead singer’s appearance. They may be the greatest BUCKLEY tribute band you’re ever likely to hear, except it pains them so to admit it, as they actually try to be taken seriously. Imagine a Vegas-style ELVIS impersonator claiming to be the originator, some decades later. It’s that obvious, and doubly despicable.

The Times (Standing the test of): JEFF BUCKLEY’s Grace is still the musician’s crowning achievement. The intricate guitar intro and self prophetical lyrics on the album’s title track (“And I feel them drown my name / so easy to know / and forget with this kiss / but I’m not afraid to go / but it goes so slow”) give way to the FREDDIE MERCURY-falling-from-the-sky vocals.

The catchy “So Real” was a last minute substitution for “Forget Her,” and shows BUCKLEY at his loosest, and perhaps still painstakingly aware of his destiny, even in his playfulness (“I couldn’t awake from the nightmare that sucked me in and pulled me under….”).

BUCKLEY’s cover of LEONARD COHEN’s “Hallelujah” remains one of the most sensual musical moments ever put to tape. BUCKLEY’s voice ebbs and flows like wine being poured from a bottle and then back again. He sings: “And it’s not a cry that you hear at night / it’s not somebody who’s seen the light / it’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah / hallelujah / hallelujah….” And then at exactly the song’s six minute mark, a world of ivory winged angels and lustful devils converge when the singer just ever so slightly shifts the tone of his voice and reveals the heartache of a man serving a lifetime of solitary confinement in limbo.

Album closer “Dream Brother,” with its Middle Eastern undertones and ROBERT PLANT-like moaning suggests BUCKLEY belonged more to the school of LED ZEPPLIN than to that of NICK DRAKE. It appears BUCKLEY was a student of all genres, and he mastered many of them.

Ten Years Later: Jeff Buckley’s estate has been run by his mother, Mary Guibert. Her first action was to eliminate any possibility of her son’s legacy being corrupted. Initially she went after bootleggers. Merchants on Ebay would receive Cease and Desist letters immediately upon the announcement of JEFF BUCKLEY-related auctions. The unofficial live releases, which early on, were among the best available at any capacity (and some fans insist still are), quickly dried up at the mention of any legal action from the estate. Even tape-traders, who started “tape trees” free of cost to spread the music and vowed they made no profit by doing so, were threatened by legal action from the estate. The estate assured that this was all a matter of quality control, meant to help the fans, but many of them still cried foul. With the advent of online music subscription services in subsequent years, both legal and illegal, BUCKLEY’s admirers found another outlet by which to spread the music (and decrease the scarcity of some of BUCKLEY’s less distributed but equally essential bootlegged works).

Of course, this is all completely ironic considering the first release since BUCKLEY’s untimely passing was the rough mix for what would have been called My Sweetheart The Drunk. This would have been BUCKLEY’s sophomore studio effort, which had been scrapped since BUCKLEY himself had deemed the results unsatisfactory. It flies in the face of contradiction, as the theory that the estate is merely interested in BUCKLEY’s best interests doesn’t seem to hold up with its release.

Mystery White Boy, an album chronicling BUCKLEY’s live performances, was released in 2000. It pales in comparison, though, to the stellar 2001 import-only release of Live A L’ Olympia. 2002 saw the release of Songs to No One 1991-1992, with former CAPTAIN BEEFHART guitarist Gary Lucas. It showcases an early point in BUCKLEY’s career, which was significant, but is, admittedly, for diehard fans only. Most recently, along with the box set of re-released JEFF BUCKLEY singles, was the release of the expanded, “Legacy Edition” of Live at the Sin-E. It’s a monumental two-CD release from BUCKLEY’s pre-Grace days that gives a sneak peak into a burgeoning performer with so much talent he’s nearly jumping out of his skin. It was an exciting time, and Live at the Sin-E captures all of it, warts and all.

The Truth: Few can say for sure what the future held for JEFF BUCKLEY. (Sketches for) My Sweetheart the Drunk doesn’t serve as an accurate indicator, simply because BUCKLEY wasn’t pleased with the original results himself. Although listening to any of BUCKLEY’s work following Grace, you get the sense that the artist was discontent with staying in the same place for any length of time. Time doesn’t stand still, and BUCKLEY didn’t want to grow complacent; it was about constant growth, through constant exploration. For those of us that appreciate his music, BUCKLEY’s time here was a gift. Where he planned on roaming next, musically speaking, no one will ever know. It’s just something we’ll have to live with.

Read SQUIB CENTRAL, written by JOSHUA JABCUGA, published every Thursday, exclusively at www.moviepoopshoot.com.

In next week’s SQUIB CENTRAL: We make the ultimate JEFF BUCKLEY mix CD.

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