What if we finally did away with this notion of Jeff Buckley as a seraphic being who briefly graced our earth from on high? At this point, more words have been poured onto page about the life of Buckley than some of our more pious saints. In addition to a deluge of anniversary essays, numerous books have been published about his life including several exhaustive biographies, a on his debut LP , and many dubious pieces of fan fiction.
In his book Killing Yourself To Live , Chuck Klosterman wrote pointedly about Buckley's ascent to martyrdom: "He was a well-regarded but unfamous avant-garde rock musician when he drowned on May 29, 1997. Almost instantly, he became a Christlike figure, and his 1994 album Grace evolved from 'very good' to 'totally classic.'" I'm inclined to agree.