Saturday, July 23, 2005
The saddest thing about Jeff Buckley was that he never romantically prevaricated upon the notion of an idealistic, rock star, self destructive early death. He was a musician, and wanted to live on, and experience, and grow. His best work was so obviously ahead of him.
And then he jumped in a river with a heavy tide, wearing all of his clothes... and we lost everything he potentially had left to share.
He's one of the few artists I admire without any reservation. A beautiful man, with the ability to evoke the most emotional depths of the human soul with the astonishing range of his vocals and brilliance of his songwriting. At the worst of times, his wailing cries of "hallelujah," are of immense comfort to many.
We can only be grateful that he left anything behind for us at all.
jeff buckley, grace