The Beautiful Buckley Boys: three new films

'Greetings from Tim Buckley' takes its name from the 1972 album by Tim called 'Greetings from L.A.'; it juxtaposes the two Buckleys' lives, both cut tragically short.  In it, the younger Buckley is played by Penn Badgely,(above) Ben Rosenfield plays his father. It was shown at the Toronto film festival last September and is soon due for general release. Directed by Daniel Algrant, it shows Jeff's life immediately prior and up to his legendary performance of his father's songs in 1991.All the music in the film comes from the Tim Buckley estate, except for Hallelulah by Leonard Cohen, which Jeff Buckley famously covered on 'Grace', his only studio album. Jeff grew up in Orange County as Scott Moorhead, with his mother and step-father Ron Moorhead, only taking on his real first name and his father's surname after his father's death in 1975.

The second film is  'A Pure Drop' (also the name of a biography by Jeff Apter), in it the Australian director Brendan Fletcher examines the relationship, or lack of it, between the father and son. The film's writer, Train Houston, says it is a 'look at the life of a gifted and troubled musician who was haunted by a father whom he hardly knew.'

Jeff Buckley's mother, Mary Guibert, holds rights to her son's music and is the executive producer of the 'official' biopic, 'Mystery White Boy'. (In 2000, three years after Jeff's accidental drowning, she had compiled a selection of live recordings which were released under the same name.) Patricia Arquette will be playing Jeff's mother in  this film, Reeve Carney is the lead, directed by Amy Berg. David Browne's book 'Dream Brother: The Lives and Music of Jeff and Tim Buckley' has been used to help shape the story.

Penn Badgely/Jeff Buckley/Reeve Carney

Tim Buckley had several acclaimed hit albums from late sixties until he died of a drug overdose in 1975. He had divorced Mary a month before Jeff was born. Jeff's public singing debut was at a tribute concert for Tim, called 'Greetings from Tim Buckley', where he sang 'I never asked to be your mountain' a song his father had written about him as a child (and his mother) He concluded the concert with  the beautiful 'Once I was'. Buckley later stated 'It wasn't my work, it wasn't my life. But it bothered me that I hadn't been to his funeral,that I'd never been able to tell him anything. I used that show to pay my last respects.'

Desert Island Discs

Went to a party last night where we were supposed to dress in the theme of Desert Island Discs (Hawaiian shirt, anyone?) and/or take our own selection. I couldn't quite get my head round dressing for the tropics in the depths of English winter, though I know some people do it all the time, so I tried to compile my own list. Owing to faulty discs I never did manage to take a hard copy with me, but it got me considering the whole scenario. Unlikely as I am to ever be on the famous radio show, what would I choose? I decided that my own personal definition of a record deserving to be on the playlist would be one which, the minute it finishes, you want to hear again. When I was young my mother and I used to play 'Heard it through the Grapevine' with the record arm across (so the thing plays again and again) until one day my father commented 'Is this a long-player?' He was never quite on the same wavelength as us. So that could be first on my list. The song which always makes me want to dance, and that would be pretty essential in a desert island situation, is 'There, There' by Radiohead. I'd be happy dancing on my own to that! Enough said.

  Although there'd be no shortage of Elbow room, I'd probably have to choose two Elbow tracks, with Guy Garvey's voice you'd never feel totally alone. So that'd be 'Mirrorball' and 'Bones of You'. One of them from the live recording with the BBC orchestra and choir in the interest of variety.
I can't quite make up my mind about 'I burn for you' or 'Tea in the Sahara' from Sting's live albums with 'The Blue Turtles' 'Bring on the Night' (as it's so humid on this island!) and the marvellous Branford Marsalis on soprano sax, both titles seem appropriate for the climate. But according to the record notes 'Tea in the Sahara' was Branford's favourite so perhaps I should go with that. I'm sure it's what I'd miss there, a good English cuppa! On a more traditional note, to conjure up an entirely different world to the sandy beaches, I'd also choose Christmas at Sea, from Sting's 'On a Winter's Night' album a poem by Robert Louis Stephenson, set to music by Sting and Mary Macmaster, who adds haunting Gaelic vocals.

Another haunting choice excellent for singing along to would be 'You've lost that loving feeling', but only by The Righteous Brothers.

To carry on the slightly melancholy mood I would choose the beautiful Jeff Buckley's 'Last Goodbye' and while I'm not sure I could survive with just the one song from him, I'm runnning out of numbers and would also need some cheerier fare.
 

I'm not sure if all alone I could cope with the optimistic cocktail glass half full to full on 'Shiny Happy People' of REM, though I love Michael Stipe's voice, but as so far I have  very little female company perhaps I would need to choose the light nostalgia of 'Chinese cafe' by Joni Mitchell, remembering civilization and bustling cafes, youth, the social whirl of friends and relatives. To finish I'd need a lullaby, and what better than  'Sleep' by Eric Whitacre's Virtual Choir, with a whole world of  uploaded voices to soothe me in my isolation. And if I could have the video too, it would be heaven, worlds of angels singing for me.

Only having ten choices, I've not chosen any classical, jazz, or world music, but would need at least another ten for those, and since it's all hypothetical, who's to say I can't....another time.