the RED BANANA: FEATURED ARTIST 5/25/08: JEFF BUCKLEY

SO REAL: Jeff Buckley

Jenna Avery-Lawyer

Jeff Buckley never gave anything less than his whole being. Every time we listen, we hear beautiful melodies that have us clutching at ourselves, trying not to fall apart. Enchanting seduction s that whisper of heavenly pleasures gained from sin. Rebel cries that stretch and strain through our minds, snapping ourselves into awareness. We are here. Experiencing the raw emotion that hangs on every note, every breath.

I remember the time and place when I heard my first Buckley song. I won't mention them now, because they are uninteresting, but the fact that I remember these details is the point. The song I heard was "So Real". I believe I was in 9th or 10th grade, trying to find something new. I found Jeff Buckley, not knowing that he had already passed away. I was ignorant of his existence prior to my listening experience, so I thought I had stumbled upon something fresh.

Believe me, it was fresh. I don't think I had ever heard anything like it. It was so raw, with a controlled randomness. The moment it started there was this feeling of something otherworldly swirling about. It was mysterious, but still familiar.

He comes in like a whisper across your skin, personifying "love." "Love, let me sleep on your couch." One might assume "Love" to be the nickname of a lover, but later lyrics hint at a deeper meaning. Not only is this his love, it is love. Love as an entity. He invokes scents, sounds, and visions with his genius text painting. "I remember the smell of the fabric of your simple city dress." So simple, and yet he forces it to hold meaning.

"I love you, but I'm afraid to love you." He whispers to all of us, to no one. The chorus comes out of nowhere, blasting into our souls. "Oh, that was so real!" The transcendent vocals of Buckley tearing through the stratosphere as he soars higher and higher, climaxing. It could speak of other climaxes as well. Both sensually and tragically. The ride is coming to an end, the grinding guitar ripping and shredding its way through the chorus, Buckley gliding through the rough instrumentation. The heavy industrial interlude some might refer to as ugly only adds to the beauty. The highs and lows of love.

Howling like a wild animal. His love for Led Zeppelin shines through at times like these. The perfected beautiful shrieking of Robert Plant-esque proportions. Singing strategically just under the pitch at times to create a sense of standing at the precipice of something great. If only we could just take that step. We wait for a resolution that never comes.

It's winding down, it's ending. I feel my heart lurch in my chest. I don't want it to stop. This song is holding me together. I'm afraid of what might happen when it ends. His words have torn me open, shredded my existence, and yet he's the only thing holding me together. Relief. I can feel it coming. Brushing over me like cool hands. They soothe my ravaged soul, making me whole again. One person cannot feel this much all the time. Jeff Buckley, however, lived every song as he sang them. The only reason they affect us so, is because he made it possible.

I'm done. I sit and stare, unmoving. What just happened? I feel alive and fresh. Whole and beautiful. I want to feel it again. So I hit play and sit back, ready to endure it all again.