Jeff Buckley

Happy Birthday to Jeffy (Buckley)

~ davidbiddle ~ Leave a comment

I’m about to bombard all my Facebook peeps and Twitter followers with a breadcrumb path of links to Jeff Buckley videos. No apologies folks. Jeffy would have been 48 on Monday, November 17 (my mom’s birthday…she’s wherever Jeff may be now).

If you know Jeff’s work, then you’ll enjoy some of the choice clips I’m posting. If you don’t enjoy Jeff, watch them anyway, cuz this is a problem you need to resolve. The dude could sing, play, perform, and compose like no other (‘cept maybe Jimi).

And if you don’t really know Buckley, or if you’ve kind of just wondered, well, there’s eight short videos coming at you over the next 36 hours.

And let me note, this is not stupid fan-boy idolatry. I’m a musician and a singer. Music has been a huge part of my life. The dude was a fucking genius. The fact that we lost him at the age of 30 should haunt every one of us forever. He gets a super special cameo spot in my novel, Beyond the Will of God, because of the strange loss to music and the arts  his passing meant. Pay attention to what he says in the interview I’m posting on Sunday evening. There’s some interesting stuff about the mystery of creativity and the power of music.

Happy Birthday, Jeff. Happy Birthday to Jeff’s mom, Mary Guibert, too. And a big Mmwaah birthday kiss to my mom, Ellen Horgan, as well.

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The Rhythms Fall Slow

~ davidbiddle ~ 2 Comments
Source: purpleclover.com

A friend recently sent me a link to a very moving first-hand remembrance of Jeff Buckley called “Be Your Husband” from over at PurpleClover.com. The piece stayed with me all day until I recalled an alternative prologue to my novel Beyond the Will of God written a few years before I went to press with it. I decided against this particular prologue because at the time I didn’t want to insult the memory of Jeff. I hope that is not your perception here. I offer it just because I think it’s a great tribute in and of itself, and, in the end, this same spirit finds its way into my novel — a spirit you should not forget.

The Rhythms Fall Slow: On Jeff Buckley and the Eternal Life of Music

On May 29, 1997, exactly 660 days after the day Jerry Garcia died, Jeff Buckley decided to cool off in the Mississippi River on his way to a recording session in Memphis, Tennessee. According to the only eyewitness, Buckley, fully clothed, waded into the Mississippi for a swim right around dusk. He went out to where the water came up to his waist, lay back, began to float and sing at the top of Continue reading →