Jeff Buckley : Lover, You Should’ve Come Over : Live at Cabaret Metro, Chicago, Illinois, May 13, 1995

Jeff Buckley’s demise was Byronic.  A young man, in the throes of a romantic notion, decides to swim the length of an irresistible tide.  Byron, the Bosphorus; Buckley, the Mississippi.  Byron by the skin of his teeth.  Buckley, neither the first, nor the last, to be claimed by the nefarious currents of the Mississippi.  Still, the pair share many characteristics, including the ability to convey via their respective media the yearning instinct of youth to attain and realize the absolute perfection of love–which at that age = physical expression, primarily–but also the idealistic love of the dreamer and the dream, the seeker and the sought, the idealist and the ideal.  We love this because it represents the purest of expressions of frustrated lust and longing, much of which we experienced at a point when we had neither the maturity nor the wherewithal to appreciate or act upon the impulses to our benefit.  Now that we do, we’re left simply to watch, linger, and fantasize about what we’d have done in their boots.  Ah, youth; it’s wasted on the young.

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