Even if alt-rock isn’t your thing, give this 1990s classic a spin—you just might feel something
Verdict: Buckley’s vocals and lyricism make Grace an alt-rock ‘90s classic that’s worth a listen on your moodier days. On the flip side, if you don’t like his voice, you probably won’t like this album.
Favourite Tracks: “Grace,” “Lilac Wine,” “Forget Her”
You might also like: Lana Del Rey, Norman Fucking Rockwell! (2019); Weyes Blood, Titanic Rising (2019)
American singer-songwriter Jeff Buckley’s only studio album, Grace, was released at the end of summer in 1994. There’s no particular milestone coming up for this album, so why am I reviewing it for Ultra Vires in October 2022? Because I want you to listen to it, that’s all. When I first discovered the 11-track, hour-long record earlier this year, it instantly joined my personal pantheon of all-time great albums. And I’m saying this as someone who doesn’t have a particular affinity for singer-songwriters or acoustic guitars. So I’m spreading the word.
If you know any song on this album, it’s probably the cover of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah,” which sits squarely in the middle of the tracklist. Buckley’s cover, which has amassed nearly 300 million streams on Spotify, is considered by many to be the definitive version of the song. As opposed to other covers, Buckley’s version stands out for its minimal acoustic instrumentals and pared-back melodrama, allowing the emotion behind Cohen’s lyrics to really shine.
“Hallelujah” isn’t the only cover on the album; “Lilac Wine,” written by James Shelton, covered by Eartha Kitt and Nina Simone before Buckley, and popularized by Elkie Brooks, is a quietly hypnotic standout. Buckley’s vocal prowess is on full display as he balances restraint with emotion to grapple with the very relatable notion of being unready for love.
I really can’t praise Buckley’s vocals enough. His voice is the bedrock of this album and the main reason why I fell in love with it. He demonstrates incredible technical and emotional range that immediately leaves you craving more from the first time you listen to him, even if, like myself, alt-rock isn’t necessarily your favourite genre of music. The tandem vocal and instrumental crescendo on “Grace,” the use of gentle falsetto in “Corpus Christi Carol,” and the bridge through the final choruses on the closer “Forget Her” are all incredible vocal moments on the tracklist.
But this album captures magic in its more instrumental-focused moments as well, where guitars of different kinds take centre stage. The soft acoustic intro and outro on “Mojo Pin,” the warm and catchy band melody driving “Last Goodbye,” and the tasteful instrumental breakdown in “So Real” also demand your attention.
Lyrics throughout the album carry a restrained, poetic quality. They embody my favourite kind of poetry—a handful of simple words that say so little, yet convey so much. Buckley has a lot to say about love, self-destruction, and even racism: “Racist everyman, what have you done? Man, you’ve made a killer of your unborn son,” he sings on “Eternal Life.” The words in this album can only be characterized as walking a balancing act between appreciating life’s beauties and struggling with the immense pain life frequently offers in return.
Grace is a heartbreaking album in many ways, not only for its subject matter, but also because it was Buckley’s sole studio album—released before his untimely death at the age of 30. It’s a real shame Buckley didn’t get the chance to pen and record more music, but I am extremely thankful for what he did leave us. To me, this album is what I like to call an “album of life”—a collection of songs that speak to your past, present, and future self all at once. In other words, I’ll be listening to this one for a while.
