celebrating 30 years of "Grace"
the transcendent sole album by Jeff Buckley takes one on a metaphysical journey.
sometimes in life there is a poignant and brilliant album that enters your life and completely alters your relationship with music. i’ve experienced this exact moment a handful of times over the thirty-five years on this earth so far and each one garnered a different state of enlightenment that i would forever carry with me and Grace is one that immediately earned it’s rightful place in that class.
Jeff Buckley was a name i heard whispers of for a good portion of my life starting from high school onward (he’d been deceased for five years by the time i started my ninth grade year), notably by way of his highly-rated cover of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah” (which i somehow went through those years never hearing it with my own ears). in a lot of ways, i’m grateful for his music never finding its way to me then because i honestly don’t know if i would have been cognitively sound to receive an album of this caliber in those stages of my life.
that day finally came in December of 2020, when a dear friend of mine randomly sent me a link of “Lover, You Should Have Come Over” and asked me to share my thoughts. i didn’t respond until after i played this stupendous track a full three times before i could even form a singular opinion - i was instantaneously taken aback by the vast amount of emotion and striking passion that flowed throughout the song (undergoing the psyche of someone that yearns for the one they love the most, but can’t get out of their own head), utterly in awe of a voice unlike anything i’d ever heard up until that point. how was he able to paint such a raw and tormented picture within such compelling and poetic lyrics? where on earth did he get that equally striking voice that effortlessly carried this song from?
a few days later, i decided to listen to the full album for the very first time - very much not fully equipped for what was about to happen to me. with the lights off and sitting in the comfort of my bed, i hit play on the opening track “Mojo Pin” and a soft fluttering of music and silken vocal melody filled the bedroom and i held on for the ride that i was about to be taken on. “Mojo Pin” precisely illustrates the experience of Grace as a whole - back and forth from the mighty punch of dramatic fervor to the wistful comfort of the serene. at the end of track, i felt like the most tranquil drug hit my system and instantly realized that my life and how think of music was never going to be the same.
connecting with this album was truly a transformative encounter. the enlightening lesson i experienced throughout this album was one of vulnerability. i’ve struggled with it since i was young - opening up my soul and mind to others was something that brought me a lot of discomfort and it was never an easy endeavor. within connecting to this album, it strongly highlighted that vulnerability is beautiful - without it, Jeff wouldn’t have been able to write and compose such a transcendent album. being vulnerable allowed him to create such a limitless world and in turn helped me realize that shouldn’t limit myself in life. he wasn’t afraid to expose the agonies, the frustrations, the joys, the pleasures, and everything that living brought to him and in his lyrics it was apparent that being in fear of it was never an option - in “So Real” finds himself borderline wailing out in the aftermath of a broken relationship and the burning image and memory of his lover that will forever stay with him.
the beauty of Jeff’s craft is that the music is so strong within him that he can cast out brand new emotions from songs that weren’t even his to begin with - along with aforementioned “Hallelujah”, he creates a somber yet beautifully delicate essence in his cover of “Lilac Wine” (by way of Nina Simone, originally written by James Shelton). to let myself thrive in this continuously learned state of vulnerability, i’ll admit it took me about two years to not sob my eyes out every time i spent time with this song, but that just attests to the power of his voice overtaking me and feeling every emotion in each note sung. “Corpus Christi Carol” (original writer is anonymous, but written down by Richard Hill in the 16th century) is a euphoric and haunting tale of a knight being wounded, possibly alluding to the knight being Christ and bleeding out for the sins all of humankind, while his sweet-toned and golden tone gently whisking me into bliss during the entire listen.
the expansive nature of this album allows the musicality to effortlessly flow throughout the album, each instrument and note playing it’s part, not just by Jeff himself, but the immaculately talented band that accompanied him in this musical journey and i can never give them enough praise. from the thrashing guitars and fervid drumming patterns, they laid such a beautiful foundation to carry each song where it needed to go and then some.
the album closes with my favorite song of all-time by him - “Dream Brother” is an emotive and sensitive plea from Jeff to a friend to not walk out on his unborn child and leave him fatherless, just as Jeff’s own father did to him - tackling this subject was, as i imagine, a difficult one to tackle, but again fear never seemed to appear within his creative makeup and it definitely was advantage to create a song such as this. as i sit and listen to the stirring and slightly chaotic energy that glided within the song, the come down of the last lyric “asleep in the sand with the ocean washing over” gives me that exact feeling - feeling washed over with the gratitude that this album was created and more importantly that i get to take his hand and be guided on this life-changing journey time and time again.