Thamara Kandabada

Generalist. Tinkerer.

Black-and-white illustration of Jeff Buckley
richoz, CC BY 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Jeff Buckley

Some thoughts swirling around in my head after watching the new documentary

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by

Thamara Kandabada
in
2–3 minutes

There are two kinds of people in the world:

  1. Those who don’t know much, or anything at all, about Jeff Buckley.
  2. Those who adore him to bits.

I’m staunchly in the latter camp. The new doc, It’s Never Over, Jeff Buckley, I felt, is for the former. But I liked it exactly for that reason.

There’s not much I will, or can, say about the doc that hasn’t been said already. It’s a perfectly good exercise in condensing his life into two measly hours.

Whether you watched the documentary or not, if you belong to the aforementioned group #1, I want you to listen to one of the most exquisite bits of live music ever recorded: Jeff’s album Live at Sin-é. It’s a live recording of one of the many shows he performed at Sin-é, a tiny cafe in Manhattan that saw many young artists take the stage night after night, perfecting their craft in front of small yet eager audiences. The cafe has since become a victim of gentrification – one of many, in fact – but the music lives on in legend.

I’ve sung the praises of this album ever since I first heard it, and will continue to do so until the day I die. Not only is it a lasting testament to Jeff’s musical acumen, but also a well-produced, intimate-sounding live album with great dynamics that puts you right in the heart of a bustling New York City venue that pulsates with musical energy.

Grab the best pair of headphones or speakers you can find (which obviously rules out any Bluetooth device), find a copy of the album (Apple Music has a lossless version), turn off your notifications, and spend 3 hours in his presence. Sway gently to the dynamism and vulnerability in his voice. Marvel at his range as he pays homage to Billie Holliday, Nina Simone, Nusrat Fateh Ali Kahn, Bob Dylan, Edith Piaf, and Leonard Cohen in a single evening and make it look effortless. Laugh when he makes a corny joke (he’s just like us mere mortals!). Soak in the reverb. Worship at his altar. Miss him terribly. And be grateful for his light, his power, and his music.

My original thoughts were posted on Letterboxd.

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