#40: "Grace" - Jeff Buckley

The first time I ever threw up before playing a show was in 2005 at the 8th Annual Jeff Buckley tribute concert at Uncommon Ground in Chicago. A couple of years prior, my fiancé and I at the time went to this concert at the same venue only to realize that Jeff Buckley’s mother, Mary, was there. We sat down at her table and talked to her for a while, but mostly we just listened. I will say that I performed well at the tribute, but many others were even better. They seemed to be more confident on stage and embodied Jeff’s spirit. One of them even played the song “Grace” but I opted for a simpler demo he recorded. I wasn’t ready to try “Grace” yet although I eventually did, 15 years later.

It feels a little disingenuous to recall everything Jeff’s mom had said and a lot of it has strangely, sadly evaporated. Probably because it felt a bit unreal that my mind couldn’t process that the person who gave birth to a songwriting hero of mine was sitting inches away. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting a lot of musicians and filmmakers over the years, but most of them are alive and well. Jeff Buckley tragically passed away in a drowning accident outside of Memphis. He inspired so many musicians, befriended a lot of talent over the years and but he had a voice unlike any other (well except maybe his father).

Too many memories come to mind when thinking of the music of Jeff Buckley that could likely fill an entire book. Each song on the album Grace has meant a connection to something, someone, or it’s just the sheer fact that nearly every single one of them has made me cry over the years. In fact, “Grace” isn’t my favorite Jeff Buckley song so his name will reappear in the future for a song I consider to be a top ten favorite. (Oddly enough, the recorded version is still considered a demo off of Sketches from My Sweetheart the Drunk).

But let’s focus a bit, face facts, “Grace” is one of the greatest songs ever written. One of the best records ever made and Jeff is worshipped for a reason. I know taste is subjective so maybe people out there could listen to Jeff, shrug him off and move on but back in the mid-late 90s, I felt like I had discovered my own Elvis. A talent larger than life. Too bad that I discovered him too late.

When I tried doing a faithful cover, I was able to play the chords and even the higher fret ditty that is heard before the vocals kick in. But I still can’t play or figure out the intro. Human beings can’t play guitar like that or sing like that. However, there’s still something in me that often sees covering some songs as the ultimate challenge. I don’t think I will successfully play Chopin or Beethoven or Mozart in my lifetime but when I heard the song “Grace” for the first time, it felt like a spiritual experience. Music has and always will be my religion but as much as I love nearly every song on Jeff’s debut album, whether wild and loud, or quiet and plaintive, “Grace” is on another level.

Jeff Buckley is the son of Tim Buckley, whose discography is something I never entirely explored outside of a greatest hits compilation. It’s clear that the apple didn’t fall from the tree since they do have this transcendent range and vibrato that fit more in line with someone like Nina Simone. When I hear Jeff singing, “Lilac Wine,” the outside world ceases to exist. He was meant to play and cover that song. “Grace” is an original composition that goes through several different shifts. But when he belts that high note towards the end, I am not sure where a note like that even comes from. Janis Joplin? Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan? Robert Plant’s impression of an orgasm towards the end of “Whole Lotta Love?” They were likely all influences on Jeff. But how did he manage to make the exact kind of music I have always wanted (I have said similar things for another musician named Jeff, his last name is Tweedy).

My mom hated when I once said, “If I couldn’t play the guitar or piano or record music, then I wouldn’t want to be alive anymore.” I said this before coming across Jeff’s quote. The ability to convey emotion through song feels as essential to air, food, water for me. Being able to hear music is as important to me as having conversations with people (though I’m more of a listener). When I listened to Jeff Buckley’s music, it may have been the first time I wished I had an older brother. Or probably even more unrealistically and idealized, I wished Jeff Buckley was my older brother because I think we would’ve understood such profound sensitivity. Jeff wrote music for people who drive in their car and cry listening to a song like “Fake Plastic Trees.” He just exhibited such profound levels of vulnerability that I finally felt okay. There were a few musicians like that before Jeff, sure, but he somehow seemed to say through his voice to me, directly, “you are not alone. I’m crying too.”

Jeff once said, “Sensitivity isn’t about being wimpy. It’s about being so painfully aware that a flea landing on a dog is like a sonic boom.” He made male sensitivity seem cool, normal and less alienating. By the time I heard Grace, I was finally learning to accept myself more and growing as a musician having collaborated in a band. What’s funny is that a song like his cover of “Hallelujah” was not my first exposure, it was in fact getting a used copy of Sketches for my Sweetheart the Drunk at a record store I frequented. But we’ll get back to that at a later date. “Grace” feels like a summation of strengths.

This title track is an intensely passionate 5-minute love story that ebbs, flows and pulls you into the undertow with its cacophony of layered falsetto. Only to eventually find your way back to the mainland. It first appears as a kind of premonition. “There’s the moon asking to stay / But it’s my time coming / Oh, drink a bit of wine, my love / We both might go tomorrow.” A timeless, possibly doomed companionship presented with a shattered voice that makes you feel the worst. You get lost in the story and, once the bottom is reached, you think: “Am I not in the same situation?”

“Grace” deals with a man coming to terms with his own death, and the emotional struggle of the woman he is leaving behind. Not to mention wrestling with the fear of what’s to come. The man learns to face death without fear, while his love dreads the passing of time, viewing every moment as one step closer to an inevitable separation between body/spirit. At one point Buckley sings, “My fading voice sings of love, but she cries to the clicking of time.” We are all slaves to time coming to an end, but maybe we left an imprint on one person who was there with us, more than most.

Toward the end of the song, Buckley muses on the subject of death, singing, “I’m not afraid to go, but it goes so slow.” We know that death is inevitable, but we don’t know when it will happen, and waiting for the inevitable end leaves us frustrated and afraid. Maybe some of us want it to come quickly but we’re also not suicidal. Life is exhausting and we only have so much energy for it. For me, it comes and goes. Some days, I want to do embrace the time given, other days, I just want to sink into sleep and not do anything. All I think we can hope for are moments of grace. Moments of peace. Moments of pure, unabashed, unrestrained love.

I’m still not sure how Jeff pulled off a song like “Grace” since it could be so many things: it felt like Miles Davis mixed with Van Morrison with a hint of Soundgarden thrown in. There’s no denying the influence he had both then and now and why musicians like Craig Werden or Chris Cornell befriended him. Jeff’s range was unheard of. He could sing low, high and everything in-between. He found chords and notes that I didn’t think were possible, both on guitar and in front of a microphone. Most of all, his gravity-defying voice works wonders on both my body and my soul. I feel encompassed by what he’s bringing to my headphones in a way that is difficult to describe. His sound inhabits an emotional realm I’d never experienced before and could never be truly replicated though others have come close for me.

When I write about Jeff Buckley again, I know it will get more personal. Because I will be writing about a love song - possibly my favorite. It will be about love lost, the possibility of Jeff’s own heartbreak that inspired that song, the proof that sometimes sketch songs can be even better unfinished. There’s a lot to unpack with another track. “Grace” remains one of the hardest songs I ever covered. There’s no getting around to it: I cannot sing or play like Jeff Buckley. For a time, I wanted to try basically doing what he did: play solo/electric coffee shop shows across the country.

The best I think I ever got good at was being able to hold notes for a sustained stretch of time. My range remains limited. Again, there can never be another Buckley. It’s futile to try. But he’s my favorite male singer of all time. Beth Gibbons of Portishead remains my favorite. Both of which were definitely influenced by Nina Simone among others. I just can’t imagine a world or a life where Jeff’s voice wasn’t there for comfort and consolation. I couldn’t help but try singing a number of his songs and put them out there.

My “Grace” cover feels like me trying to do the exact same thing to an insanely faithful, meticulous manner that more or less makes it sound like karaoke. Probably because I thought it was a perfect song. I didn’t want to change a thing. I wish he was still here to sing it. If Jeff brought us anything, he brought us this amazing “Grace” record that will forever be a huge part of why I love, write and record music.

In fact, I played that Jeff Buckley Tribute Concert with musicians from all over the world and once again, I can’t believe that happened. It feels like an alternate world where I was playing “Jewel Box” for a room full of people who love Jeff’s music as much as I do. I auditioned thinking it wouldn’t happen, but it did. Goes to show you never know what the universe has in store for you. It’s time to revisit Live at Sin-E again. I still can’t believe what Jeff did to songs like “Calling You” or “Sweet Thing.” He’ll forever be my dream brother. His music will always make me cry. “Grace” is a perfect song from a perfect voice.