Yet it's possible to trace a straight line from Buckley's soul-excavating
excursions through the work of Patti Smith, U2, Radiohead and his own estranged
son, the late Jeff Buckley. Tim
Buckley's best-known ballad was Song to the Siren, and that haunted masterpiece
alone justifies the existence of Morning Glory: The Tim Buckley Anthology,
though Siren was hardly typical of his career.
If
anything, this two-disc retrospective makes apparent why Buckley had such a tough
time selling records: Each album brought a new sound, and the singer never quite
figured out the difference between artistic daring and overblown self-indulgence.
In his early songs, Buckley suggested an Elizabethan troubadour straitjacketed
by overly formal lyrics, but with 1967's Pleasant Street, an anguished
aggression took hold.
Soon
this prim California folkie began to experiment with atmospheric jazz voicings
in a way that rivaled Van Morrison's Astral Weeks. Buckley is at his most
riveting in less grandiose settings; live versions of I've Been Out Walking
and Troubadour showcase the joyous elasticity of his four-octave range.
He experimented
to the end, sometimes brilliantly (the Yoko Ono-like screamfest Monterey),
sometimes to his enduring embarrassment (the Rocky Horror-esque S&M of Make
It Right), but always with a consequences-be-damned conviction.
