30 Years of “Grace”
by Siobhan Irene Brannigan
Jeffrey Scott Buckley began his life on November 17, 1967 in Anaheim, California, and was taken from us by the Mississippi River on May 29, 1997 in Memphis, Tennessee.
Jeff is the son of folk singer Tim Buckley, but he never knew him. Jeff was known only by the name Scott Moorhead until Tim’s death from an overdose in 1975. Soon after, Jeff discovered his birth certificate and began to go by his legal name.
During his short career, Jeff was majorly influenced by artists such as Led Zeppelin, Queen, Jimi Hendrix, and Pink Floyd. He incorporated a diverse array of genres in his music, including roots rock, jazz, and blues.
Although he has a few other compilations to his name along with some posthumous releases, Grace remains the only studio album that Jeff ever released. He developed the album during his extensive time spent at Sin-é, a music café that formerly stood in the East Village of Manhattan. He went on to solidify the legacy of Grace by touring for 18 months after its release in August of 1994.
Looking at the cover of Grace, one might dismiss it as the record of a lounge singer. However, the album is more like a delicate structure of poetry and genres that blend in a way that shouldn’t make sense. And it might never make sense to anyone, but if it’s good, then why should it matter?
Grace begins with a haunting psychedelic track about a “Mojo Pin.” A mojo pin casts a sensation of mojo, or magic upon its user. Similar to many of his other songs, Jeff only mentions the title of the track in the lyrics once. In one particular line, he says that he “wouldn’t need no mojo pin to keep [him] satisfied.”
In this context, Jeff is describing a love that is so fulfilling, it could appease an addict’s craving for drugs. The theme of the song conveys the pain that an addict experiences each day, and which aids are capable of keeping them satisfied. In this case, the choices are a needle-dosed drug, or a love that wouldn’t need no mojo pin.
“Grace” is the thing that someone waits their whole life to discover. Whether that’s a feeling, a purpose, or a person – grace feels like the answer to all of the pain experienced until that moment. In one line, Jeff sings, “there's the moon asking me to stay, long enough for the clouds to fly me away.”
The song is an elegy…but to no one. It might perhaps just be the dream that one is working towards after waiting in the fire for so many years.
A “Last Goodbye” is a regretful goodbye. It’s the goodbye that ultimately, neither party wishes to have to say, but it’s an unavoidable goodbye.
Each one of my summers feels like a period of growth, and after one eventful summer in particular, I was watching the season finale of Sex Education. The song “Last Goodbye” started playing during one scene, and I was in such disbelief. It was perfect. I still haven’t brought myself to watch the last episode, because I think that it needs to be savored like a lilac wine.
“Lilac Wine” is a song originally written by Broadway actor James Shelton in 1950. It’s been recorded by numerous artists, including Nina Simone, Eartha Kitt, and Elkie Brooks. It is the first of three covers on the original release of Grace, of which the album would not be complete without.
“Lilac Wine” is an eerie carol that represents the heartache from losing a lover. The narrator describes coping with a drink of wine from a lilac tree, and the euphoric trance that follows. This sensation they enter is a dream in which their lover is still present.
There are several versions of “Lilac Wine” that are worth commemorating, but Jeff’s version displays emotion that is hard to replicate. His voice is sweet and heady, just like the lilac wine itself, and he sings as if he was in tears until his first sip of the potion.
“So Real” is the 3 o’clock AM anthem. It addresses the feeling that one experiences when they are so in love, yet so alone. “So Real” is a little dance that builds up towards a heavy mash of guitar. Then, it softly continues as Jeff whispers in the interlude “I love you, but I’m afraid to love you.”
The song is dark, intimate, and indeed weighted, but leading up to the end, it leans towards an exasperated sigh of relief. It’s a reflection of a life that is glamorized, but acceptance of a life that is reality.
No offense is intended by this statement, but Jeff’s version of “Hallelujah” is the only version of the song that I can habitually listen to. Leonard Cohen wrote a wonderful piece, yet some editions beg for too many Shrek associations. (And I do love Shrek).
Jeff’s version of “Hallelujah” is the cover that discloses the real meaning of the song. Cohen’s lyrics tell the story of trying to find spiritual wisdom through broken human circumstances, but Jeff’s spoken words express those dilemmas. His voice represents the guilt that is experienced through each of life’s remorseful moments, and how one can even continue to give a “hallelujah.”
“Lover, You Should’ve Come Over” is the single that is regarded as “the one” among Jeff’s small catalog. As a long, soulful ballad that’s both confused and confusing, the song represents a lack of closure that is felt in a dead relationship.
From Jeff’s perspective, this love is one that he feels as though he could spark back to life. He attempts to generate positive feelings towards this split, because he is hopeful that he could reignite it. At the same time, he views the parting with sweet sorrow and is regretful of his role in it. This breakup is one that is left more open-ended rather than concluded.
“Lover, You Should’ve Come Over” is the song that will leave you as a different person than you were before your first listen. It will reset you in a way that you won’t be able to process until the next track.
“Corpus Christi Carol” is a song written in 1933 by composer Benjamin Britten, based on a text dating back to sometime in the 16th century. Jeff’s cover is based on Janet Baker’s 1967 recording.
The song tells the tale of a falcon that captures the singer’s lover from an orchard. The singer searches far and wide for their lover, only to discover their body next to a bleeding knight and a tombstone engraved with the words Corpus Christi. Said tombstone perhaps represents the message of the story, but in what context?
There are many theories surrounding what this piece might be an allegory for, but it is safe to say that it was likely a commentary on both political and religious phenomena from that time in history. Anything from Jesus to King Henry VIII, most definitely.
Eternal Life is Jeff’s scoring attempt at emulating a song with the strongest Zeppelin influences among all others. It is also undoubtedly the “angriest” song on the album. The combative, overdriven guitar riffs contradict the smooth and hypnotic melodies that build the rest of the album.
Jeff was inspired to write the song over anger for a number of casualties. According to him, “life's too short and too complicated for people behind desks and people behind masks to be ruining other people's lives, initiating force against other people's lives, on the basis of their income, their color, their class, their religious beliefs, their whatever…”
“Dream Brother” is Jeff’s plea to his friend begging him to not walk out on his pregnant girlfriend, as his own father did to his mother. He says to his friend, “Don’t be like the one who made me so old/Don’t be like the one who left behind his name/‘Cause they’re waiting for you like I waited for mine/And nobody ever came.”
“Dream Brother” features a beautifully orchestrated guitar solo that emulates the dream of the song, which takes place in between Jeff’s pleas. He sings the final, and most melancholy lyrics softly in the closing minute.
It’s funny that my favorite song on the album is also the track that shouldn’t even be on the album. “Forget Her” was originally left off of the album in favor of “So Real,” and remained unreleased until 2004. Since then, it has been featured as a bonus track on a few releases.
“Forget Her” is the ultimate heartbreak song, even more than “Lover, You Should’ve Come Over.” It’s clear that Jeff wants this girl back either way, but his tone changes as we reach this song. Rather than mourning a love yet still begging for her return, in “Forget Her,” Jeff navigates accepting how he can move on from this chapter.
I hate conclusion paragraphs. Anyway, I love “Forget Her,” I love Jeff Buckley, I love California, and I love this album! Have a great weekend! Sin-é – “that’s it.”