An Open Letter To The World, From The Ghost Of Jeff Buckley


JeffBuckley.jpgDear Alive World,

Hi. Jeff Buckley here. Remember me? I rose to musical success in the 90’s for my hit single, “Last Goodbye.” I released only one album during my life, called Grace (which, let’s be honest, was pretty f*cking amazing). I was working on my second album, when, all of a sudden, I died tragically while swimming in the Wolf River at the tender age of 31. I know, it’s been really hard on you guys, and the thought of so much untapped talent in a person who died so young can be really really upsetting to think about. Not to mention the fact that I’m gorgeous, so it makes it all the more tragic. And I understand the need to keep my memory alive and keep my music fresh for generations to come. But after the first 10 or so compilations of previously un-released material, live tracks, Grace re-re-re-re-mastered, and B-sides, I’m starting to get annoyed. This has gotten WAY out of hand. (And I’m not even talking about this bullsh*t.) Imagine my disappointment today when I logged onto Jesus Christ’s laptop and saw that, once again, my music will be re-released and re-packaged on a new compilation called So Real: Songs From Jeff Buckley. What could possibly be new about this? I’ll tell you what’s new: nothing. You want to get “so real?” FINE! Let’s get so motherf*cking real.

How about you STOP TRYING TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF MY TRAGIC DEATH FOR YOUR OWN MONETARY GAIN!!! What’s next? I’ll tell you what’s next, because Jesus told me. Here are some of the upcoming Jeff Buckley albums that you will be able to buy:

Grace: Slightly Louder This Time
Last Goodbye: Only The Guitar Parts
My Sweetheart The Drunk: Track #4 Is Now Track #1
The Sound Of Jeff Buckley’s Old Apartment
(10 tracks of room noise)

Look. All I’m asking is that you just move ON already. Tell these record labels to stop trying to make a quick buck(ley) off my death. Whenever you miss me, just pop in your old copy of Grace and listen to it the way it was supposed to be done: curled up in a ball on your bed, staring out the window, while occasionally kissing your pillow as if it was that cute boy on the football team.

This is our last goodbye (until you get to heaven),

Jeff Buckley

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