Tim Buckley
Greetings from L.A.

THE REVIEW

"No one has ever managed to create the void around the voice like Tim Buckley did" 

"Tim did for the voice what Hendrix did for the guitar, Cecil Taylor for the piano, and John Coltrane for the saxophone". 

When I listen to Tim Buckley, the sensation that pervades me is always the same: amazement mixed with a veil of sadness.

I begin to be projected into a sort of dream, into a strange dimension, where everything around seems to lose its contours, the colors become more subtle, fade and become one with the voice and melody that comes out of the speakers.

Perhaps this was precisely the intent of the navigator among the stars: to drag the listener into the infinite space, floating in the void, in the absence of gravity, accompanied by a "voice" that traversed all possible states of mind paired with strange, unusual music, outside of the norms and rules of the staff...

Something otherworldly, spiritual, magical.

The soul detaches from the body, still alive, wandering suspended in a limbo for the entire duration of the compositions which, once ended, leave it millions of miles from the ground, with no way back.

To me, this is Tim Buckley, a man who had a dream so big and "crazy" that he wanted to share it with the world through his music and voice, but which the world, for the most part, did not fully understand and appreciate.

After the most daring experimental experiences of "Lorca" and "Starsailor", Buckley falls victim to the record market, which does not realize the hoped-for results from the catastrophic sales of one of the most interesting albums, perhaps, of the millennium and does not write a single note for more than two years, then reappears on the market with this "Greetings from L.A.".

What crosses my mind listening to the post-"Starsailor" work and knowing Tim's story is only an infinite sadness that leaves very little room for amazement.

Being imposed upon is one of the most unpleasant things a human being can endure, and when we are faced with an artist like Buckley, we can say it could be a true and proper crime.

Right from the first notes of "Move With Me", with that predictable blues riff of bass, drums, and piano, the backups, and everything else, I can't help but wrinkle my nose thinking about how the session musicians and arrangements were chosen and imposed with the one and only intention of "reining in" the wild horse Buckley and delivering him once and for all to the majority of the public to maximize profits and squeeze the goose that laid the golden eggs to the utmost.

"Get on Top" merely confirms what I already think, a fast-paced blues where Buckley seems like a good student diligently carrying out his duty.

Let's be clear, Tim's voice is always GREAT, the timbre and modulation are excellent, but seeing him here like a hawk in a cage is truly sad.

A jolt crosses me when I listen to the gem of the album "Sweet Surrender" and my spirit rekindles with hope.

That beautiful intro of keyboards and conga, that underlying melancholy, that voice so evocative, full, deep enough to carve the soul, capable of flying and soaring across any register.

Very pleasing, albeit a bit excessive, is the string arrangement and orchestration of the piece, slightly undermining Tim's vocal performance, which here is truly superb and slightly outside the mold of the album.

In "Nighthawkin'", another soul blues piece that echoes the canons of the first two, you can hear the conga, as in "Get on Top", from the only survivor of the old crew: Carter Collins.

The level slightly rises with the next track "Devil eyes", thanks to a decent arrangement, and then moves onto another interesting thing from the album "Honk Kong Bar", seven minutes of voice, guitar, and hand clap, a result of cutting and stitching over an hour of jam session.

It all closes with the most cunningly arranged piece "Make it Right", which I prefer to overlook to avoid getting more upset.

What can be salvaged from this album?

Definitely "Sweet Surrender" and especially Tim's voice, which returns with dignity to reclaim the scepter of the best folk singer ever to exist.

Buckley had thrown himself headlong into this new project, had willingly agreed to wear a mask that hid what he had inside and wanted to express, but once again the public was not enthusiastic.

From here, the descent with the mediocre "Sefronia" and "Look at the Fool", to then ultimately end his run with an overdose, at a friend's house, after a concert in Dallas, at only 28 years old, on the night between June 28 and 29, 1975.

I wasn't even a year old when Tim started to truly travel among the stars, I couldn't know that one day, listening to an album that changed my life ("Grace"), I would have the supreme pleasure of discovering that the father of that angel who was Jeff Buckley was one of the greatest singers in history.

Perhaps the greatest..

R. I. P.