Jeff Buckley
Sketches For My Sweetheart The Drunk

THE REVIEW

I believe that, deep down, everyone misses Jeff a little, in fact, I'm sure: anyone who lived through the '90s and listened to an album like Grace was stunned by his premature death or at least mourned the loss of yet another true artist, extremely gifted artistically and genuinely moving to the listener.
Sketches arrived in 1998 to console the many afflicted souls, but it dampened some enthusiasm as it revealed its true nature, as it is not a real album. It lacks a certain structure of a major production and showcases all the musical edges that characterize an ongoing gestation: in this sense, it is more than just an album, it is real expression, creative contrast, a kind of photograph in music and from the latter, we have a portrait of a possibly more mature Jeff but no less moving.

It really takes just a few seconds to fall in love with all the songs and it is certain that some of these will not be easily forgotten because despite a certain musical change in direction, the spirit and talent remain unchanged.
I don't think then that there is one track better than the others, I simply think that each of us can fall hopelessly in love with all these compositions and carry them within as fragments of a wonderful poem capable of touching all possible emotions.

As far as I'm concerned, I will never stop listening to the entire album, but if I had to choose one track to deliver to posterity as a testament to Jeff's artistic sensitivity, I believe Opened Once could still move many people. Not that the sky is truly a dumpsite, but every now and then it makes me really think about how such a splendid generation of artists was so generous in delivering masterpieces to us but at the same time cruel in disappearing so quickly.