|
THE ROUGH GUIDE TO ROCK
Tim Buckley
Born Timothy Charles Buckley III, February 14, 1947, Washington DC, USA;
died June 29, 1975, Santa Monica, California
Some voices deliver a vocal charge, its impact detonated by a
plangent lyric and a narcotic melody. Some trigger our attention even though
objectively the song would barely brush our attention span. A minuscule minority
achieve escape velocity using sounds instead of words as fuel. Tim Buckley did
not always sing remarkable songs at least a quarter were dull, dire or downright
self-indulgent but his voice was incendiary. Vocally he could explode from a
grumble to a falsetto shriek. Stylistically he was will-o'-the-wisp, all over
the place. To the perceived consternation of his audience, album after album
presented new directions ("perceived" being the received voice of
record industry orthodoxy wailing). For Buckley, songs were trapezes for musical
and improvisational risk taking, albums stylistic springboards. The downside was
that at some point in his personal life he took to understudying oblivion too
strenuously for comfort. Eventually he forfeited his life. With high school
bands behind him, he slipped into what the marketing moguls sold as
"folk" folk-protest, folk-rock and kindred hyphenated folk
permutations. In the years leading up to 1967 Elektra made massively important
contributions to the folk scene. These included recordings by American and
British folk acts such as Judy Collins and Phil Ochs, Tom Paxton and Theodore
Bikel, Alasdair Clayre and the Incredible String Band, Cyril Tawney and Johnny
Handle. And Tim Buckley. Tellingly perhaps when Elektra celebrated its 40th
anniversary with Rubaiyat (1990), despite Happy Sad prominent in its booklet,
nobody had dared realise one of Buckley's songs. Having a voice like Buckley's
and writing such idiosyncratic material dissuaded future covers although 4AD's
musicians' collective This Mortal Coil bravely essayed Starsailor's "Song
To The Siren" in 1983. Adhering to Elektra's usual policy of eponymous
debuts, Tim Buckley (1966) was fairly conventional "folk" fare for the
period. Goodbye & Hallo (1967) was wordy soft-rock with Greenwich Village
troubadour inflections. (Fred Neil, whose "Dolphins" would turn into a
showcase for Buckley's vocal calisthenics, was a particular influence.) Happy
Sad (1969) found him maturing as an artist, blending musical genres in
arrangements unusually using vibraphone, congas and marimba. Signed to Straight,
he would begin to reel off a series of albums with a frenetic willfulness which
flouted the prevailing recording-promotion-recording catechism. Blue Afternoon
scraped in scant weeks before the release of Lorca (1970) (named after the poet
Federico Garcia Lorca murdered by the fascists in the Spanish Civil War in
1936). In hot pursuit came Starsailor (1971). Starsailor would have been
genuinely testing of most fans' loyalty. Live shows made few concessions to
expectations, dousing listeners in free-form work-outs. The vehemently electric
Greetings From L.A. (1972) broke new ground, especially in its lyrical content
which was avowedly sexual, a coarse revelation cloaked in the garb of the sexual
revolution. Sefronia (1973) could be skipped but for its "Dolphins"
and "Honey Man". Look At The Fool (1974) merely levied a poll tax on
fans' ears. It proved an unseemly swan song. After playing a gig in Dallas in
June 1975 Buckley drank some, hoovered some heroin and shuffled off his
particular mortal coil. A signpost to a posthumous career, it was rumoured that
at the time of his death he had been planning a live document. Buckley's work
began undergoing a reappraisal from the mid-1980s onwards. A ground swell of
interest built, the artist as a young casualty syndrome. First came a dribble of
bootleg recordings of concerts or radio broadcasts, Italy being a particular
source due to Italian copyright vagaries the later CD bootleg Blue Obsession
(1990) was typical. A trickle of authorised archival concert recordings
followed. Sealing everything, finally along came the son he barely knew, Jeff
Buckley . The release that initially stoked the fires of interest was Dream
Letter (1990) recorded in July 1968 at a point in his career between Happy Sad
and Blue Afternoon. The flow continued with Tim Buckley The Peel Sessions on
Strange Fruit (1991) five tracks recorded in April 1968 with Buckley backed by
Lee Underwood (guitar/vocals) and Carter C.C. Collins (bongos). In 1994,
bolstered by two tracks, "Dolphins" and "Honey Man" recorded
in 1974 for BBC TV's Old Grey Whistle Test, Peel Sessions blossomed into Morning
Glory. Live At The Troubadour 1969 on In-DiscReet/Demon (1994) further fed the
stream while Honeyman (1995), released by Manifesto and Demon and recorded in
New York in 1973, drew on his Sefronia period and revealed superior performances
to those in circulation on bootleg. Callous though it may sound, Buckley's
voice-as-instrument approach was often more engaging than his songs. The lows
expressed as albums in his career outweigh the highs. Nevertheless, hearing him
imbue the same song, prime examples being "Buzzin' Fly" or
"Dolphins", with new emotional depth over several readings only
confirms what a magnificent vocal technician he could be. Better, he could
charge songs with extraordinary emotional depth.
Back to Feature Articles
|