You had me at "Goodbye"

This is our last goodbye
I hate to feel the love between us die
But it's over
Just hear this and then I'll go
You gave me more to live for
More than you'll ever know

This is our last embrace
Must I dream and always see your face
Why can't we overcome this wall
Well, maybe it's just because I didn't know you at all

Kiss me, please kiss me
But kiss me out of desire, babe, and not consolation
You know it makes me so angry 'cause I know that in time
I'll only make you cry, this is our last goodbye

Did you say 'no, this can't happen to me,'
And did you rush to the phone to call
Was there a voice unkind in the back of your mind
Saying maybe you didn't know him at all
You didn't know him at all, oh, you didn't know

Well, the bells out in the church tower chime
Burning clues into this heart of mine
Thinking so hard of her soft eyes and the memories
Offer signs that it's over... it's over

-Jeff Buckley, Last Goodbye

We were coming up on winter break during my junior year at University Wisconsin-Platteville, but I still had the dreaded "Finals Week" to tackle. In a semester filled with enjoyable classes that fell under the umbrella of my graphic design/photography major such as Advertising Design, Art History, Product Photography, in addition to 2 other photography independent studies; I was also taking one of the last remaining "required-for-graduation" classes. In that particular semester, Macro-Economics was the bane of my existence. I was feverishly studying (cramming?) at our little house on Southwest Road for what would turn out to be the hardest exam ever taken. I'm pretty sure some of the study questions were in Cantonese. To say it was going to be "a difficult final exam" is merely putting it in terms that human beings can understand. As was my way of hitting the books, I needed background noise.

It was December 1, 1994, World Aids Day; and one of the cable movie channels was airing the Tom Hanks/Denzel Washington/Antonio Banderas film Philadelphia. Although I had seen it in the theater when it came out the year before, I decided to keep it on anyway because I didn't think it would distract me.

I was right about that, until this beautiful scene began, and just as I remembered being in the movie theater a year earlier, I was completely transfixed by it:

"La Mamma Morta" aria by Maria Callas, with passionate explanation by Tom Hanks' HIV+ character Andrew to Denzel Washington's character Joe, who played his lawyer.

The following commercial break was actually a 10-minute AIDS fundraising infomercial for the Beat AIDS! campaign, which I promptly donated to. A few weeks after my donation came a Beat AIDS! hat & T-shirt, along with 4 CDs by artists I never heard of. I no longer have the hat or shirt, nor do I even remember 3 of the CDs came in the package from that day, but the 4th CD has remained in my constant rotation and is always the answer to the "if you were stranded on a desert island, what ONE album would you bring?" question.

It was, and is, Jeff Buckley's Grace. It had only been released by Columbia Records a few months prior (August 1994), and at that time was still unknown to anyone who wasn't waiting in lines to overcrowd NYC's Lower East Side dive bars to hear him sing. The first time (and many times after) I listened to that CD I actually cried.

If I had Grace playing when we had gatherings at our house, people would literally stop in mid-conversation when they heard his initial lament on track 3, Last Goodbye.

"This is our Last Goodbye. I hate to feel the love between us die. But it's over. Just hear this and then I'll go: You gave me more to live for, more than you'll ever know. Well, this is our last embrace, must I dream and always see your face? Why can't we overcome this wall? Baby, maybe it's just because I didn't know you at all."

At the very end of the song, as the last 4 torturous and lingering notes on the piano were struck--inducing imagery of fingers that had once been interlaced, coming apart-- my friends demanded to know what song it was and who was singing it. Nobody in the vicinity was making a sound when "So Real" was playing, 2 tracks later. By the time "Lover, You Should've Come Over" (track 7) came on, they were as voice-matized as I had been the first time I heard Grace. You could hear the proverbial pin drop, just like you can in this concert footage.

I was friends with 2 of the DJs from our student-run campus radio station, WSUP (as in "W'sup, Wisconsin State University Platteville?"!), so one night I played it for them. By the following week it was on WSUP's heavy rotation list, (I had to ask WSUP buy their own damn copy so I could get mine back!) and it wasn't long before the only music store in town, Downtown Discs, was trying to stock the CD faster than it was selling. As the months went by I heard songs from Grace more often, not only on campus radio, but on regular commercial stations as well.

Listening to his CD at home was one thing, and having done that many, many times, I was an absolute goner when it came to his voice. When I moved to New York 2 years later, my first order of business was to find my way to one of his shows at the tiny spaces the Lower East Side is known for. The first time I saw him was at his Arlene's Grocery show, in February of 97.

Arlene's Grocery is a club on the Lower East Side of New York City, owned by former Sin-é owner, Shane Doyle. Parker Kindred debuted as Jeff's new drummer and made his only public performance with the band there on February 9th, 1997. Arlene's Grocery is also significant because a bootlegged recording exists of this show. Some of the songs that are featured on Sketches, such as "Witches' Rave" and "The Sky is a Landfill," were performed at this show.

I thought I knew what to expect during his show, but I was not prepared for the emotional intensity of it. Seeing him perform was in a way, life-changing. He just had that kind of effect on everyone. If you're lucky, you have a friend that makes you feel, no matter what is going on around you, that you're the only other person in the room with them; that, for your time spent together, it is if the sun shines only on you and you bask in their glow. That is how Jeff Buckley was; in all ways unabashedly cracking open and baring his soul in public to share with packed crowds of strangers, yet to each person it felt like a completely natural, and totally intimate, one-on-one exchange. To this day when I listen to his music, it still feels like he wrote and sang every song not only to me, but FOR me.

Lover, You Should've Come Over:

So I'll wait for you, and I'll burn. Will I ever see your sweet return? Oh, will I ever learn? Lover you should have come over because it's not too late...

In 1997, he moved to Memphis to begin work on his follow-up, My Sweetheart The Drunk. His band would be flying to Memphis so they could hit the studio and record it. I'll leave the rest of this part of his story to Wikipedia :

On May 29, 1997, as the band's plane touched down on the runway to join him in his Memphis studio, Buckley went swimming in Wolf River Harbor, a tributary of the Mississippi River, while wearing steel-toed boots, all of his clothing, and singing along to a radio playing Led Zeppelin's "Whole Lotta Love". A roadie of Buckley's band, Keith Foti, remained ashore. After moving the radio and a guitar out of reach of the wake from a passing tugboat, Foti looked up to see that Buckley was gone. Despite a determined rescue effort that night, Buckley remained missing, and the search was called off the following day due to heavy rain. One week later his body was spotted by a tourist on a riverboat marina and was brought ashore.
The biography Dream Brother, written about him and his father, the singer Tim Buckley, reveals that the night before his death Buckley reportedly admitted to several loved ones that he suffered from bipolar disorder. The autopsy confirmed that Buckley had taken no illegal drugs before his swim and a drug overdose was ruled out as the cause of death. He was 30 years old.
A recent statement from the Buckley estate insists:
Jeff Buckley's death was not "mysterious," related to drugs, alcohol, or suicide. We have a police report, a medical examiner's report, and an eye witness to prove that it was an accidental drowning, and that Mr. Buckley was in a good frame of mind prior to the accident.
After Buckley's death, a collection of demo recordings and a full length album he had been reworking for his second album were released as Sketches for My Sweetheart the Drunk - the compilation being overseen by Chris Cornell. Three other albums composed of live recordings have also been released, along with a live DVD of a performance in Chicago. A previously unreleased 1992 recording of "I Shall Be Released", sung by Buckley over the phone on live radio, was released on the album For New Orleans.
Director Brian Jun has announced plans to make a film biography of Buckley, in cooperation with his mother. It is to be called Mystery White Boy, and is scheduled for release in 2008. As of yet, no one has been cast in the role of Buckley.

For the past 13 years, I have been transfixed by Jeff Buckley & his music--just as I was during that scene in the movie Philadelphia.

Ultimately, what specifically did he want us to get from his music? In an interview clip from his Live in Chicago DVD, Jeff answered in the way only he could; with that signature open-hearted charm, humble sincerity and absolute directness that he was not only known for but that still comes through to anyone who puts on one of his CDs. He looked directly at the camera and softly said, "What do I want you to get from my music? Whatever you like... whatever you like".

This past Tuesday marked the 10-year anniversary of his death. An entire decade, gone... but he lives on through that beautiful music he left behind. I encourage you to give him a listen, if you haven't already.

It's never over, my kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder
It's never over, all my riches for her smiles when I slept so soft against her
It's never over, all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter
It's never over, she's the tear that hangs inside my soul forever

Well I feel too young to hold on
And I'm much too old to break free and run
Too deaf, dumb, and blind to see the damage I've done
Sweet lover, you should've come over
It's not too late.

-Jeff Buckley, Lover, You Should've Come Over

My JB Discography commentary
I have every JB CD they've ever released, including most of the international imports and as many bootlegs as I've been able to get my hands on, but I'll just give you the short list.

1) Grace: Last Goodbye brought us together, but my favorites are So Real and Lover You Should Have Come Over.

I must have played this entire cd a gazillion times over the years, and it never, ever gets old. It's on The Rolling Stone Greatest Albums of ALL TIME list for a reason.

2) Sketches for My Sweetheart the Drunk: Released posthumously, this 22-track, double CD set is much grittier than Grace, as many of the songs were still rough cuts and demos.

If there is an album that you break the Kleenex out for, this is it; for the music found within but mostly because this is the last music he ever recorded. Stunningly beautiful stand-outs include: (Disc 1) Everybody Here Wants You, New Year's Prayer, You and I. (Disc 2) I Knew We Could Be So Happy, Baby, Satisfied Mind, and the song perfectly suited to the unfinished, rough sound of Disc 2, the one that always puts a devilish grin on my face, Your Flesh is so Nice.

3) Mystery White Boy, Live: This compilation of his 95-96 post-Grace tour was released in 2000 by his mother, Mary Guibert, after years of begging from fans.

His guitar-laden send-up of Nina Simone's That's all I ask is the stand-out track (available on the Aussie import) out of the songs not previously on any of his other CDs.

4) Live at Sin-é: Recorded live over 2 days at the East Village cafe Sin-é and released in 1993 as a 4-track EP, this one was re-released as a "Legacy Edition" double-cd set in 2003.

You'll either really love this or you won't. I enjoy the randomness of some of the songs and many-varied artists he covers (Bob Dylan! Van Morrison! Led Zeppelin! Nusrat Fateh Ali Kahn! Nina Simone! etc). The tone of the entire set, when listened to at one sitting, makes it seem as if you're sitting in his living room as he plays songs for his very-best friends-- you being one of them.

The last song of this 2-CD set and of that evening, was his 9+ minute version of Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah. It is, how you say...? Well, it's just excruciatingly great. It is pure, clean, white, weightless, puffy-clouded heaven, and will envelope you in an undeniable warmth. This is the song that will have you fighting the urge to crawl through your speakers, just to get closer and closer--never stopping until you're close enough to be enveloped by--that beautiful voice.


If you can't track me down, you might just find me here at my desk, trying to get inside my Mac's 4" round Harmon Kardon speakers in a sad attempt to get closer to that voice. Must...get...closer...


Amazon album links:
Grace (original version)
Grace (LEGACY Edition)
Sketches for My Sweetheart the Drunk
Live at Sin-é
Mystery White Boy: Live '95-'96

various sources: JB lyrics, JB Wikipedia entry, JB official web site