This post is in the theme “Constructing an identity through media”. Read the first.
September 10, San Francisco: There is only one Jeff Buckley CD for me. I burned it myself, combining two EPs: Live from Bataclan and Live at Sin-é. Multiple times have I thrown myself into Grace or Sketches for My Sweetheart the Drunk, but once I’d tasted the sweet fruit of Jeff Buckley live, I could never brook Buckley in the studio.
This disc, which I have thanks to my friend Dominic’s two EPs, has seven songs. It begins and ends with the “Je N’en Connais Pas La Fin”, such a lovely little song (about such a lovely little fair). It includes, of course, “Hallelujah”, which Buckley singing live is one of the most haunting musical experiences imaginable. It also has “Mojo Pin” and “Eternal Life”, both wonderful. But man, Jeff Buckley doing live covers is something spectacular. Van Morrison’s “The Way Young Lovers Do” is completely transformed by Buckley’s adept hands and voice.
This disc found me in the midst of a long way down. I listened to it repeatedly with my headphones on and my self-pity wrapped around me like a shroud. It’s a great album for that, if that’s what you want from it. Just Buckley’s beautiful voice, his guitar, and maybe a little other instrumentation thrown in from time to time. But listening today I felt like that experience has clouded my appreciation for how beautiful these songs are.