There’s a strange phenomena in music fandom that occurs when an artist you’ve liked for some time suddenly becomes known to a wider public. Mixed feelings abound in such cases. Yes, there’s positive sense of second-hand accomplishment when someone great that you admire is finally getting some recognition, as well as the more ego-driven I-told-you-so feelings of validation. But it can also feel almost like an invasion of your personal artistic-appreciation space, and sour you on the artist just a little.
My biggest Tim Buckley-listening days were behind me when his name received a boost after his son Jeff became a phenomenon in the mid-‘90s. My reaction then was to cry foul that the son was more popular, but less good, than the father ever had been, which I suppose falls loosely into the I-told-you-so category above. Listening to the two of them now, I still feel the same.
Although starting off as a relatively straightforward folk-rock singer-songwriter, Tim Buckley departed fairly quickly from the norm. No one would dare call the avant-garde, jazzy and at times dissonant Starsailor normal folk music. Buckley could use his voice almost as an instrument all on its own—soaring, plunging, murmuring, wailing, and trilling in unexpected ways, riding the emotional waves of his songs like no one else. (It’s something his son did in a far more accessible way.)
Buckley’s flights of emotional excess are an acquired taste, but it’s a taste I’ve acquired, at least in small doses. That said, my two favorite of his albums are quite possibly among his least Buckley-esque—the moody, brooding, but relatively tranquil Blue Afternoon, and the sex-fueled, groove-infused Greetings from L.A.
The playlist below would serve as an excellent introduction for those new to Buckley, and a nice career summary (albeit a somewhat conservative one) for his fans.
Cover art Citation: Source, Discogs.com
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