‘Hallelujah’: the note that made Jeff Buckley immortal
Few artists’ music and life story make me ponder what could have been more than Jeff Buckley‘s. Tim’s son had literally every tool you could possibly need to be a megastar. You want a voice? He had a caramel-coated croon that spanned four octaves and could rage, soothe and seduce with the best of them. You want looks? The guy looked more like a movie star than most movie stars. You want the chops? For as phenomenal a singer he was, he was an even better guitarist.
What’s more, his sound basically previewed the next 20 years of guitar music. His only album, 1994’s Grace, came out the same year as Nine Inch Nails’ The Downward Spiral, Oasis’ Definitely Maybe, Green Day’s Dookie and Hole’s Live Through This. Now, 30 years later, I’d say there have been more acts aping Buckley’s mix of singer-songwriter sensitivity and classic rock histrionics than anyone else on that list beyond maybe Oasis’ impact on British music.
After all, Radiohead wouldn’t have made The Bends the way we know it today without attending a Jeff Buckley concert. Die-hard Buckley obsessive Matt Bellamy gave his music a sci-fi edge and shaved off all the sensuality when he formed Muse. Phoebe Bridgers and Lana Del Rey took notes from his mix of classic songwriting sensibilities and nakedly emotional lyricism. Put simply, something about his music has made his influence last over decades and generations.
I think I can pin down the moment in his music that made his work last forever. To be clear, Grace is a copper-bottomed masterpiece that, if you haven’t spun in a while, you absolutely should. However, I believe there’s a moment on his most iconic song that doesn’t just live forever in its own right, but in the music of so many others.
What song made Jeff Buckley immortal?
To get it out of the way early, it’s his cover of Leonard Cohen’s ‘Hallelujah’, and a specific element of it. This may be somewhat of an overplayed song, but it’s overplayed for a reason. It’s quite simply one of the most sublime, powerful cover versions ever recorded, one that conveys its emotional power with how much Buckley holds back.
The man was never one to sing one note when 21 would do. Just look at some of the track lengths on Grace for proof of that. However, ‘Hallelujah’ is something different. There’s a restraint in the way Buckley sings Cohen’s masterpiece. The verses beginning with such control before “the minor fall and the major lift” allude to just what a titanic voice he’s holding back.
It’s that push and pull he’s having with himself that makes the song so compelling. His warm, plucked Telecaster provides the perfect backdrop to the build and release of the storm he’s brewing with just his voice. This goes on for six minutes of total bliss, the torrent of emotion he’s holding back just beginning to break the levee until the end of the song’s final chorus.
That emotion finally makes itself known, but not with volume or power but through his final utterance of “hallelujah”, breaking into a soft, subtle F note held over the last 25 seconds of the song. A truly majestic achievement that sums up just what makes Jeff Buckley such an influential, inspirational figure—one who, tragically, had so much more to give.
