SweetDreamsJeff

I discovered Jeff and his music in January 1997. I started this blog in 2007 as a dedication to him. I hope you enjoy it.

[sweetdreamsjeff]

Found this blue paisley hand made blouse at a thrift shop in Pacific Grove. Im visiting family and I like to come browse. I tend to look out for Jeff inspired clothing. This is a woman's size small. If you're interested let me know.

[sweetdreamsjeff]

IN A SAD STATE OF GRACE 

June 16, 1997

Section:THE ARTS/MUSIC

DROWNING CLAIMS SINGER JEFF BUCKLEY AND STILLS ONE OF FOLK ROCK'S MOST PROMISING YOUNG VOICES

When he decided to escape the muggy Memphis heat with a quick plunge into the Wolf River, singer Jeff Buckley had every reason to feel buoyed by good fortune. At 30 he was signed to Columbia Records--the home of Bob Dylan and Miles Davis--and had just settled into a cozy old house in town to begin recording a follow-up to Grace, his powerful 1994 debut. That album, a darkly romantic and stunningly original blend of folk, blues and alternative rock, had earned Buckley a reputation as a superstar in the making, much as Greetings from Asbury Park did for Bruce Springsteen in 1973. Buckley's rise was tinged with poignancy. Success promised to lift him at last out of the haunting shadow of his father, the brilliant folk singer Tim Buckley, who died of a heroin overdose in 1975 at age 28.

But on the evening of May 29, after driving to the Memphis marina with a member of his road crew, Jeff inexplicably waded, fully clothed, into the muddy river. As the roadie watched from the riverbank, Buckley swam far out. When the wake of a passing boat splashed ashore, the roadie turned away for a moment to move Buckley's guitar and radio to safety. When he looked up again, Buckley had disappeared. He never came back up. After six days of searching, police last week pulled his body from the water near Beale Street, Memphis' music row.

News of the accidental drowning unleashed an outburst of grief that attested not just to the tragedy of a young man's life cut short but also to the uncommon force of his music. In the hours after his disappearance, fans from around the world-Canada, Australia, the Netherlands and even Singapore--inundated his record label with worried messages. In New York City's Greenwich Village, Buckley's home turf, scores of fans brought candles and flowers to Cafe Sin-e, the former Coffeehouse where he first drew crowds with his spiraling voice and captivating intensity. "His music was so beautiful it made the hair on your neck stand on end," said a weeping fan. "He was special," said Columbia Records president Don Ienner. "We saw the future in Jeff."

That Buckley's life ended in awful symmetry with his father's was a painful irony. The younger Buckley had long struggled to escape the label of "Tim's son." He had met his father only once, at age 8. Tim Buckley left home the year his son was born, a fact that may have fueled the melancholy, beauty and despair that swirled within Jeff's songs. In one of his own final acts of grace, Buckley said to a close friend, "Remember that I forgive my father, and I just have to move on." He seemed to be doing just that when he was pulled under.

PHOTOS (COLOR): FAMILY TIES: Jeff, above, was just breaking free from the shadow of his father Tim

By: Thigpen, David E., TIME Magazine, 0040781X, 6/16/1997, Vol. 149, Issue 24

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November 12, 2013

Road-tripping Discoveries: Jeff Buckley…The Last Goodbye

2013 has so far rocked and rolled its way into autumn with all of the light and the dark of life being lived. Betwixt it all, there came significant birthday milestones for both myself and the better half. With that, the excuse to embark on some much-needed escapism in the form of three weeks of celebratory vacation time that took us from the auld hometown of Dublin, Ireland and encompassed Chicago, Illinois and Orlando, Florida, with an exciting road trip in between that covered Nashville, Memphis and Franklin, Tennessee, and Tupelo, Mississippi. So many highlights, too many to mention, but some too good not to share!

Starting with a poignant reminder of the fragility of life…

While strolling close to the Beale Street Landing, along the banks of the Wolf River in Memphis, we came across a bench, bearing a small plaque inscribed with a tribute to singer and songwriter, Jeff Buckley.

Posthumously famous for his haunting cover of the Leonard Cohen classic, Hallelujah, Buckley moved to Memphis in 1997 to work on his album, My Sweetheart the Drunk. During this time, he also played weekly shows at ‘Barristers’, a downtown bar, located beneath a parking garage off Jefferson Avenue. On the evening of May, 29th, while waiting for his band to arrive from New York to work on his recordings, Jeff, having swam there several times before, dived, fully clothed, into the Wolf River for a spontaneous swim.

Wolf River, Memphis

The River, which enters the Mississippi near the northern end of Mud Island, north of downtown Memphis, is also the route for many tugboats. Jeff tragically drowned, his body found six days later, having been pulled under the wake of such a tug vessel.

Despite some rumours of depression and suicidal tendencies, the subsequent autopsy showed no signs of drugs or alcohol in Jeff’s system and his death was ruled as an accidental drowning.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AUq9sgPqfJ8&list=RDisYhMK3tP0c

His passing  inspired musical tributes from many of his contemporaries, including Chris Cornell’s Wave Goodbye,  PJ Harvey’s Memphis. Rufus Wainwright’s Memphis Skyline, and Aimee Mann’s Just Like Anyone. He was just 30 years of age.

Hope he’s resting in peace there, on his very own bench, on the Riverbank…

[sweetdreamsjeff]

Reblog

From 10 years ago

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Phoenician in Sydney, Australia on September 6, 1995 Andrzej Liguz

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Long-awaited Jeff Buckley documentary, It’s Never Over, premiers at Sundance this week. But how full is the story depicted?

by Martin Aston | Published on 23rd January 2025 at 3.13pm

“Difficult job it’s been looking at this face and listening to #JeffBuckley music for the last 6 years…” reflected director Amy Berg on Instagram in December, as she confirmed the release of her film It’s Never Over, Jeff Buckley.

The long-awaited full-length documentary on the late artist, who drowned in 1997, debuts this month at the Sundance Film Festival in Utah. It’s showing alongside other tempting music docs including Questlove’s Sly Lives! (AKA The Burden Of Black Genius) and early-’70s portrait One To One: John & Yoko.

According to Buckley estate “gatekeeper” Jack Bookbinder, the film has been in the works since Berg finished her 2015 Janis Joplin documentary Little Girl Blue. “Amy spent a good chunk of her life immersed in Jeff ’s work, and building a relationship with Mary [Guibert, Buckley’s mother],” says Bookbinder. “She’s got a great reputation, and trust was established.”

Buckley’s estate also sought the opportunity to set the record straight. “My sole purpose for appearing in the film is to say, there was no foul play, no drugs or alcohol in Jeff ’s system, no suicide,” says Bookbinder’s colleague, former tour manager Gene Bowen. “Rolling Stone’s story just days after Jeff died should have published the autopsy but instead left an air of mystery. Jeff only went into the [Mississippi] river because he saw the beauty of the water and went for it.”

It’s Never Over… – named after a lyric in Buckley’s Grace album ballad Lover, You Should Have Come Over – promises previously-unreleased live footage, voice messages and sketchbooks, plus animated sequences. But Berg’s comment, “Difficult job”, is reflected in the experience of Buckley drummer and film interviewee Parker Kindred, who has seen the finished version.

“There’s great footage, like Jeff playing [downtown NYC cubbyhole] Sin-é, and pivotal moments like Jeff meeting Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan,” says Kindred. “But if I told the story, I’d talk to more musicians, who Jeff hung out with and leaned on. I’d want to know more about the rumour that Jimmy Page might have produced Jeff ’s second album. This is more of a movie about relationships with women, from his mother [Mary Guibert] to [first girlfriend] Rebecca [Moore] to Joan [Wasser, AKA Joan As Police Woman]. It starts with three women crying, which sets a tone.”

Other key voices including Columbia A&R man Steve Berkowitz, the late Hal Willner, and Buckley’s aunt Peggy Hagberg were, significantly, not invited to contribute. Also absent is former manager Dave Lory, who was sacked by Guibert following Buckley’s death. “I’m the only one that knew Jeff that well during the four years we were together,” Lory claims.

Neither Guibert nor any spokesperson for the film could be reached for comment. “No one will ever get it right because we all have our own perspective on the person,” says Bowen, who adds, “there are beautiful things in the film, like Jeff ’s sense of humour – no one could do impersonations like Jeff, from Bugs Bunny to Cher.”

“It’s all heartbreaking,” Kindred concludes. “Jeff was so young. And he had so many layers. The way the film goes to emotional places – all relationships torture us! I just want to know what made Jeff live.”

It’s Never Over, Jeff Buckley premieres at the Sundance Film Festival, which runs from January 23 to February 2, 2025. Guibert, Bookbinder and Bowen’s non-profit initiative Road To Recovery can be contacted at roadrecovery.org

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Found on ETSY

Jeff Buckley Fantasy Map Letterpress Print

Explore the soulful landscape Jeff Buckley's transformative, alchemical songs. Hand-drawn and letter pressed on archival paper in an intimate first edition, this unique map of Jeff Buckley's music takes you from when he woke up in a strange place, through hallelujah's marble arch, to his Last Goodbye.

Signed, numbered and shipped to you in a flat package. Easy to frame, but first take some time to enjoy the embossed texture of the letterpress lines.

The Jeff Buckley map is part of an ongoing series inspired by the work of musicians and poets which have now found homes at the Museum of Modern Art, The Free Black Women’s Library, Opus 40 Gallery, Artists Space, The Free Library of Philadelphia, The Woodland Pattern Center, The Scottish Poetry Library, and private collections in nine countries. They have been featured on CNN, NBC's The Today Show, Oprah, New York Magazine, Brooklyn Magazine, Buzzfeed and elsewhere.

The maps invite you to get lost within their wild topographies, and to discover yourself in new worlds perhaps better than this one. The geographic portrayal of the realms would be impossible without visual worldbuilding practices made available through Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, Gygax’s Dungeons & Dragons, and Juster/Fieffer’s The Phantom Tollbooth. But they owe an equal debt to the earthbound cartographers of the Age of Exploration. Master mapmakers like Al Idrisi, Fra Mauro, and Gerardus Mercator. Now that our usual habits, motives, and methods for movement and action have been so disrupted, these maps offer new techniques for travel and adventure, and an opportunity to connect to one another through allegorical voyages.

In addition to having drawn this map, I also teach fantasy cartography and am available to commissions.

[sweetdreamsjeff]

"This metal sign Jeff bought in an antique store in Belgium and gave to me to create the second leg of the two year world tour laminate... Notice...he specifically asked that I write Jeff Buckley Band."

-- Gene Bowen, Jeff Buckley's tour manager

In Belgium, the word Castar (more modernly spelled Kastaar in Belgian Dutch/Flemish) is a colorful local slang term. [1]

Depending on the context, it carries a few distinct meanings:

A Clever, Brave, or Smart Fellow: Most commonly, calling someone a "kastaar" is a playful compliment. It refers to a clever, energetic, or slightly mischievous person who knows how to get things done—an "ace" or a "tough cookie." [1, 2]

A Large or Impressive Thing: In casual Flemish conversation, the word can also describe something unusually big, robust, or impressive (e.g., "een kastaar van een vis" means "a massive monster of a fish").

The Beer Connection

Brewery Mena strategically chose this name in the 1950s as a clever marketing pun. By naming their product Castar, they were playfully suggesting that their brew was a "mighty, robust beer" meant for strong, clever fellows—which matches the confident, grinning man depicted on your sign! [1, 2, 3]

Note: I found on FB posted on September 3, 2020

[sweetdreamsjeff]

“From the time Jeff was an infant, I knew he was musically inclined. Even when he was in those little infant seats, he would vocalize with the music on the radio in a way that you could tell he was trying to follow the melody line. It was amazing.”

—

Mary Guibert

[sweetdreamsjeff]

Tree Man

In the liner notes to Live at Sin-e, Jeff gives a shout-out to Tree Man. Let me tell you the story I witnessed one night at Sin-e. Tree Man was an older, African-American homeless guy who hung out in the East Village. He stuck tree branches that he found in parks in the back of his shirt, so they rose behind his head. He often walked around and talked to himself. He would beg for change in the local bars, cafes and restaurants, no matter what was going on, and, at Sin-e, his entrance would instantly shut down whoever was playing, since the place was so small. One night, Jeff was doing his Monday night gig at Sin-e, and Tree Man walked in and started loudly asking each table for change. I don’t remember what song Jeff was playing, but he stopped when it became impossible to continue. Instead of getting mad or frustrated, Jeff started talking to Tree Man, asking him where he was from, etc. Tree Man was kind of crazy and not that lucid, but Jeff managed to get him to tell him that he was from Mississippi. Jeff asked him if he grew up singing the blues. Tree Man said yes. Jeff asked him what songs he liked to sing. Tree Man named a couple of songs, and Jeff knew one of them. He invited Tree Man to the mic and started playing the song on his guitar. Tree Man, to everyone’s astonishment, started singing, and he was pretty damn good. A soulful, rough, gravelly voice. Tree Man sang the entire song, accompanied by Jeff on the guitar and backing vocals, and when they finished, the place exploded in applause. Jeff passed the tip bucket and asked people to “pay” for the performance, and people started throwing significant money in the bucket. Jeff asked the waitress to bring Tree Man a sandwich, which she did. Jeff collected the money from the hat, gave it to Tree Man, and the old guy walked out into the night like nothing happened. It was one of the most magical musical moments I’ve ever experienced. - Gregory Smith

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Jeff Buckley: SPIN’s 1994 Profile

 Archives » 1990s » Jeff Buckley: SPIN’s 1994 Profile

Jeff Buckley performs during soundcheck at Hotel Utah in San Francisco, California, USA on 21st January, 1994. (Photo by Anthony Pidgeon/Redferns)

This article originally appeared in SPIN’s February 1994 issue. In honor of Grace‘s 25th anniversary, we’ve republished it below.

Sprawled on the floor of a mid-Manhattan recording studio, Jeff Buckley is showing off the newest addition to his instrumental repertoire: an antique harmonium. An elegant contraption of hand pumps, varnished wood, and ivory keys, the instrument was purchased as a tax write-off, to offset the advance from his 1992 signing to Columbia Records. But Buckley has grown attached to his new toy: “I first saw one of these on Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood when I was a kid,” he laughs, his fingers dancing across the keys, “and I knew I had to have one someday.”

Buckley usually plays the electric guitar, accompanying himself as a solo vocalist in the small, dingy lower-Manhattan clubs and coffeehouses where he’s been a mainstay since 1992. There’s something disarmingly innocent about Buckley in performance. With his cherubic face, head full of curls, and shy, apologetic manner, he’s the closet thing the East Village has to an alternative heartthrob. Buckley’s real draw, however, is his voice, a pure, multi-octaved tenor that can glide from the anguished hysteria of a scat-singing Robert Plant to the lilting, serpentine moans of qawwali sensation Nusfrat Fateh Ali Kahn—in one effortless motion.

The son of the late folk singer Tim Buckley (with whom he claims to share little more than a famous last name), Jeff was raised by his mother, a classically trained pianist and cellist, and his step-father, an auto mechanic who turned him on to Led Zeppelin. For years, he avoided singing in public, performing instead as a guitarist in a series of fusion and reggae bands. “I used to lie to people and tell them I had nodes on my throat to avoid singing,” he now confesses. In 1991, he recovered his voice and moved to New York, playing in the avant-rock band Gods and Monsters with former Captain Beefheart guitarist Gary Lucas, before setting out on his own in 1992.

Even if Buckley’s debut studio recording, due in early ’94 and featuring both a bassist and drummer, hits big, he plans to continue playing alone. He traces his passion for solo performing back to his heroes, blues singers Robert Johnson and Son House, and their rowdy “barrel house” shows during the early days of country blues. “It was just the singer, his voice, the guitar, and this tiny shack,” Buckley sighs, “and people dipping their cups in a big barrel of whiskey. If you sucked, nobody danced. So I decided to perform in very small, inescapably intimate places—to see if I could make big magic in a really small place.”

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Tied for First: 'If You Knew' by Jeff Buckley

By: Stefan Lizarzaburu

Pub: UWIRE

February 20, 2020

It's been raining recently. Lots of grey, lots of splash. In the past few weeks, I've done what any other rational twenty-something would do in these conditions -- listen to sad music without feeling remorseful about my actions. It's because it's raining, okay? But in this drizzle-laden stupor, I quickly re-discovered a hidden gem -- one of the uncut variety. It's "If You Knew," live, by Jeff Buckley, off of his "Live at Sin-é - Legacy Edition" album recorded in 1993. And it's the best song of all time.

For context -- this "Live at Sin-é" album is pretty tight, tubular, terrific. Sin-é was a small coffee shop in New York City, East Village. It was this teensy tiny venue where young, aspiring New York musicians could come and showcase their talents. The last rendition of the original Sin-é shop closed in 2007, but its legacy lives on here with Jeff Buckley. At the time of recording, Buckley was a relatively unknown artist, mostly recognized as the son of folk-legend Tim Buckley. Jeff, however, wanted to pave the way for his own legacy -- a legacy removed from the father he barely knew. He would begin this legacy at Sin-é.

The set-up at this coffee shop was, well, a coffee shop. The stage wasn't even a stage -- it was just a space against the wall where the waitstaff cleared tables out of the way. So when I first listened to the album, I was astonished -- it sounds like Jeff Buckley's performance took place in Luray Caverns. Or like, I don't know, inside a sinkhole. It sounds immense, important, gripping and immediate. It's a voluntary moment of solitary confinement for your ears for about 4 minutes or so. It encases the listener in feeling. But mostly, it stirs. This song literally made me buy a Fender Telecaster -- Buckley's electric guitar of choice. You think I'm kidding? I wish I was. This song, this album -- they're just that good.

Buckley, at this point in his musical canon, had amassed a small following, mostly from fans of his performances at Sin-é. They knew what to expect when he performed -- some haunting falsettos, some shredding on a Telecaster, some original material and some covers. On this special summer's night in 1993, the crowd was special enough to bare witness to a cover of legendary proportions -- Nina Simone's "If You Knew."

Hats off to Simone for an absolutely impeccable original rendition. Goodness, this song is something. Reading the lyrics off a piece of paper might leave you partially shaken, but overall OK. But by golly goodness, the vocal performance can have you from zero-to-fetal in 2.5 seconds. Missing someone and longing for their presence can't always be said eloquently, even if you might want to say it eloquently. In longing and absence, sometimes there's complexity in simplicity. Simone's delivery is wrought with a passionate fire -- a short and flickering flame that burns hot at its center. She gets it.

So thank you, Nina Simone. The original version is spectacular and without a doubt deserves its own article. But here we are, going with the lanky Cali boy over the high priestess of soul. It'll make sense when you listen to the song because the feeling lingers with you. Buckley gets it too.

It's actually shocking to imagine that there are people just sitting in a coffee shop. Just casually sipping on their spiced lattes -- or whatever people in New York drank in the '90s -- listening to this angelic serenade. If I were there, I would no doubt have to take a breather outside after that out-of-body experience and pinch my skin to see if I'm still there. The lyrics, the performance, Buckley's tear-drop croon, the gently twanging guitar -- they all metamorphosize into a really somber, grayscale butterfly. It hurts. He hurts. He might as well be weeping like a little baby into the microphone -- but weeping in a poignant, emotionally-mature manner.

What is so incredibly compelling about this live performance is you hear absolute radio silence in the background -- no clinking, no clanking, no footsteps, no tea cups clattering, no silverware. They're in a coffee shop, with so many available stimuli, and yet all you can hear in the background is the reverb of the Telecaster's amplifier. The first thing you hear from the crowd after the performance is over, after some time where the air sits still, is a man. A man who so eloquently, with simplistic poise, says -- "Yeah." Imagine being so dumbfounded by a performance that all you can muster up in response is a quick, airy, "yeah." It seems like this mystery yes man gets it too.

Listen to this song when it rains. Listen when you miss someone. Listen when you kick up puddles on a spring morning. Listen to pay attention and to reflect. But whatever you do, for your own well-being, do not listen when you're actually already sad. It's just the rain, I promise. I get it too.

[sweetdreamsjeff]

This in my opinion is a beautiful homage to Jeff.

Emel Mathlouthi Covers Jeff Buckley's New Years's Prayer as an Electronic Tour De Force

Emel Mathlouthi knows her cover songs. The Tunisian singer-songwriter, who first gained fame when a viral protest song got her dubbed the “Voice of the Arab Spring” (she performed at the Nobel Peace Prize ceremony – take that, Grammys), told us about her five favorite covers last year. She also, on pretty short notice, pulled together a rare “All Along the Watchtower” cover that sounds nothing like all the other “All Along the Watchtower” covers for my book party (no joke, friends still mention her performance to me two years later). But her newest cover may be her best yet. Certainly her most unrecognizable.

She’s sort of covered Jeff Buckley before, performing a pretty straightforward interpretation of his “Hallelujah” cover early in her career. But that finger-picked ballad wouldn’t prepare listeners for what she’s done to Buckley’s lesser-known song “New Year’s Prayer,” also called “Fall in Light.” Dark and electronic and storming, her cover, rechristened “Fallen,” sounds like Nine Inch Nails or Portishead. Anyone but Jeff Buckley.

The reason it strays so far, she says, is that she didn’t set out to cover the song at all. To open a show a couple years ago, her band decided to improvise for a few minutes. “The guys started playing some dark pads and very psychedelic rhythms,” she says in an email. “‘Fall in Light’ came to my mind and I started improvising with that, until I created a new chorus for it with the word ‘Fallen.'”

It’s now become her standard concert-opener, and she finally posted a video on YouTube. It’s a stunning piece, nearly unrecognizable; a couple times I had to Google the words she sang to confirm they were indeed Buckley’s. Watch it below, as well as a more recognizable recent cover, a solo-piano “We Shall Overcome” she sang for the Women’s March.

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This is the earliest (uncredited) TV appearance of Jeff Buckley, playing at Sin-é bar. Jeff starts in background at 0:27, and again at 3:49. Elizabeth Perez was a close friend and muse of Jeff Buckley. Note also the handwritten invitation for small gigs Jeff sent to Elizabeth captured at end of the video.

This video belowis an excerpt of the longer New York City local news segment above

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In March 1994, just before the release of Live at Sin-E, still pretty much unknown outside of New York, Jeff Buckley played a short solo tour of English and Irish folk clubs. Someone at the Red Lion in Stevenage somehow managed to persuade him to do a Sunday afternoon session at the pub, to about 20 or 30 people. He was absolutely incredible. One of the kids in the pub asked him if he fancied playing that evening supporting his dodgy punk band at the Bowes Lyon youth club. Buckley was utterly knackered, hadn’t slept properly in weeks, but after a quick nap under his fake fur coat, he got up and did another amazing show. I think he ended up being third on the bill, actually. I seem to remember him saying that evening that this show was the end of Jeff Buckley the solo performer. The next time we saw him it would all be different.

The Red Lion Pub

Stevenage England

March 20, 1994

[sweetdreamsjeff]

In March 1994, just before the release of Live at Sin-E, still pretty much unknown outside of New York, Jeff Buckley played a short solo tour of English and Irish folk clubs. Someone at the Red Lion in Stevenage somehow managed to persuade him to do a Sunday afternoon session at the pub, to about 20 or 30 people. He was absolutely incredible. One of the kids in the pub asked him if he fancied playing that evening supporting his dodgy punk band at the Bowes Lyon youth club. Buckley was utterly knackered, hadn’t slept properly in weeks, but after a quick nap under his fake fur coat, he got up and did another amazing show. I think he ended up being third on the bill, actually. I seem to remember him saying that evening that this show was the end of Jeff Buckley the solo performer. The next time we saw him it would all be different.

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made this a while back

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Re-blog from 9 years ago

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Posted today on FB. 6/8/2026

Jeff Buckley autograph from 13th July 1995 at the Scala venue, Ludwigsburg in Germany.

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Obituary: The son who soared: Jeff Buckley

Date: June 6, 1997

From: The Guardian (London, England)

Publisher: Guardian News & Media

Document Type: Obituary

Byline: ADAM SWEETING

FEW ROCK business careers began more tantalisingly than that of Jeff Buckley, who has drowned in the Mississippi river, aged 30 (his body was found on Wednesday this week). In 1991, record producer Hal Willner, known for assembling imaginative, star-studded tributes to Charles Mingus and Kurt Weill, put together a tribute concert for Jeff's father, Tim Buckley, at St Ann's Church, Brooklyn, New York. Tim had died of a heroin overdose in 1975, aged 28, but his early death ignited a slow-burning musical legend. It was founded on his recorded legacy in which soul, blues and jazz influences mingled freely, the process stirred by his arrestingly elastic vocal style.

His son Jeff, born in California during Tim's brief marriage to Panama-born Mary Guibert, had always been ambivalent about his father. Tim left Mary when Jeff was six months old, and his son was brought up by his mother and stepfather during a peripatetic childhood. 'We moved so often I had to put all my stuff in paper bags,' Jeff recalled. 'My childhood was pretty much marijuana and rock 'n' roll.'His decision to participate in Willner's tribute event launched Buckley Junior as a new phenomenon on the New York music scene, and simultaneously affirmed his quasi-mythic credentials, particularly when he performed his father's song Once I Was. 'It bothered me that I hadn't been to his funeral, that I've never been able to tell him anything,' said Jeff. 'I used that show to pay my last respects.'

Thus launched in public, Buckley was rescued from a string of odd jobs by joining the avant-garde combo Gods & Monsters, which featured Pere Ubu's ex-bassist Tony Maimone and Captain Beefheart's erstwhile guitarist Gary Lucas. But it was more a loose group of individuals than a real band and Buckley quit in early 1992 to pursue a solo career.

He began performing at small Manhattan clubs, particularly the Cafe Sin-e, where record company executives and A&R men were soon arriving by the limo-full, waving chequebooks. 'I went into those cafes because I really felt I had to go to an impossibly intimate setting where there's no escape, where there's no hiding yourself,' he explained.

Buckley's remarkable voice (his most obvious inheritance from his father) and movie-star looks left nobody in doubt that he was a star in the making, though the eclecticism of his shows confused some listeners. Buckley would pluck songs out of the air as the mood took him. It might be something by Van Morrison, the Hollies or Big Star, or a tune made famous by Nina Simone or Mahalia Jackson.

With a hippie-esque suspicion of large corporations, he turned down several deals before signing with Columbia at the end of 1992, apparently because he knew and trusted the label's A&R man Steve Berkowitz. The company previewed their new acquisition with a live EP, Live At Sin-e, following which Buckley travelled upstate to Bearsville to start work on his debut album, Grace.

The disc was released in 1994 to instant critical adulation. The sleeve pictured Buckley clutching a microphone and looking poetically dishevelled, while the music inside was a cornucopia of rockers, ballads, hymns and even a bold rendition of Benjamin Britten's Corpus Christi Carol, by no means standard rock 'n' roll fare. His voice was wild, passionate and sensual. If his music was hard to describe in a soundbite, it was bursting with hidden depths and infinite potential. Grace won Buckley the Best New Artist award from Rolling Stone magazine in 1995.

Buckley's inquisitiveness and musical ambition earned him acceptance across a broad spectrum of fellow performers. Elvis Costello brought him over in 1995 to perform at London's Meltdown Festival, where he easily held his own among string quartets and jazz ensembles, and last year he featured on Patti Smith's comeback album, Gone Again. He was also a fan of Eastern music, particularly the Islamic devotional Qawwali songs of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan.

Buckley had been in Memphis since February, recording new material. He decided to go swimming in the Mississippi, fully clothed and carrying his guitar, but was apparently pulled under by the wash from a passing tug.

Jeff Buckley, rock singer, born August 1, 1966; died May 29, 1997