I’ve written love notes to Jeff Buckley in here before, but I feel like on the day that would mark his 43rd Birthday (and a few days give or take, the 10th anniversary of our ‘encounter’) it’s more than justified to remember him and give myself a few minutes to reflect on how much this musician has influenced me and my life.
Part of my Jeff Buckley collection. ops
See, if I’d been just a little older, I probably would have begged my parents to fly me to someplace to see him. Most probably I would have ended up in Paris, stranded among other fans, witnessing him charm the audience with his broken french. I would have laughed, unknowing of what was to come just a few years later. I’ve been to masses of gigs, and lots of those were good. A bunch were even amazing. And a few of them were unbelievable. But there will never be anything like a Jeff Buckley concert. He is to me what Robert Plant or Jimi Hendrix were to others. Or, as he said it so well once at the Sin-É: “Nusrat, he’s my Elvis”.
Jeff, you’ll always be my Elvis. Happy Birthday.
Jeff is that kind of person who becomes a benchmark of ‘He is the next Jeff Buckley.’ And that doesn’t happen to too many musicians, really. You are either who you are or you’re the next version of the last guy. He’ll always be the last guy. He’ll always be the guy where there are no other comparisons.
- Chris Cornell