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
Music was like my first real toy. I was an only child for a while, and I was alone a lot of the time - and I liked it. I still like being alone.
Kiss me, please kiss me But kiss me out of desire, babe, and not consolation You know it makes me so angry 'cause i know that in time I'll only make you cry, this is our last goodbye.
Music should be like making love. Sometimes you want it soft and tender, another time you want it hard and aggressive.
I resent the fact that a parental warning sticker has to be included on an album as cover art. To me that's censorship.
The only goal is in the process. The process is the thing…with little flashes of light here and there. Those are the gigs, those are the live shows. But it's the life in between—that's all I got.
I've already created my own thing.
The people who raised me musically are my mother, who is a classically trained pianist, and my stepfather.
Maybe I'm too young to keep good love from going wrong, but tonight you're on my mind, so you never know.
I don't really need to be remembered. I hope the music's remembered.
In love we are all brothers and sisters
I was captured by music at a really early age. I was really captured by it. Everything about it. It was my mother… It was my father… It was my play thing. It was my toy. It was the best thing in my life.
We are born to live, we are born to understand, we are born to carry a cursed pattern and be transformed by pain.
There is no good singing, there is only present and absent.
So I'll wait for you... And I'll burn Will I ever see your sweet return? Oh, will I ever learn? Oh, Lover, you should've come over Cause it's not too late.