Jeff Buckley
Jeff Buckley
Jeffrey Scott "Jeff" Buckley, raised as Scott "Scottie" Moorhead, was an American singer-songwriter and guitarist. After a decade as a session guitarist in Los Angeles, Buckley amassed a following in the early 1990s by playing cover songs at venues in Manhattan's East Village, such as Sin-é, gradually focusing more on his own material. After rebuffing much interest from record labels and his father's manager Herb Cohen, he signed with Columbia, recruited a band, and recorded what would be his only...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionRock Singer
Date of Birth17 November 1966
CityAnaheim, CA
CountryUnited States of America
And though the meaning fits, there's no relief in this. I miss my beautiful friend.
Music is endless and even though I've heard a whole bunch of music from so many different places and fallen in love countless times with all kinds of different music.There's still something about it,I guess it's called Freedom.
I just want to be a guy with a guitar.
I like a spirituality with a God that knows how to drive a car, that knows how to take his girl to the dance club, dance all night, have a little drink, kiss the kid when they come back in and go to sleep. God doesn't need a chauffeur-- he needs to drive himself.
my kingdom for a kiss upon your shoulder" lover you should have come over-
To do something that will just fly away is kind of special. Every time somebody tell you they love you, that "I love you" flies away, and you wait until the next one.
I've always felt that the quality of the voice is where the real content of a song lies. Words only suggest an experience, but the voice is that experience.
love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah.
Fight despite the crowds of the walking dead
Your soul can fly outward, stringed to your ribcage like a shimmering kite in the shape of an open hand. Be still and listen to the evidence of your own holiness.
Above all do not give yourself airs. Breaking the moment of past habits is the challenge here: In the life of the spirit you are always at the beginning.
I'm convinced I got signed because of who I am. And it makes me sad.
I want to be ripped apart by music. I want it to be something that feeds and replenishes, or that totally sucks the life out of you. I want to be dashed against the rocks.
I'm lying in my bed, blanket is warm, this body will never keep me safe from harm. I still feel your hair, black ribbons of coal. Touch my skin to keep me whole. If only you'd come back to me. To feel you at my side, wouldn't need no Mojo Pin to keep me satisfied.