Book illustrates bizarre family legacy
By Jim Farber
New York Daily News

They were beautiful and gifted-and doomed.

What better reason to write a book about Tim and Jeff Buckley?

In the newly published Dream Brother (HarperEntertainment, $25), critic David Browne writes about this legendary father and son, who spent less than one week of their lives together but who shared morbidly similar destinies.

Each was among the most ambitious and underappreciated singers of his generation, and both died horribly young: Tim at 28, in 1975, from an accidental heroin overdose; Jeff, at 30, in 1997, by drowning in the Mississippi River.

"It was just so poignant that this young guy, the son of a semi-famous father, died so tragically just as he was becoming his own person-and at a similar age that his father had gone," Browne said. "It cried out for the story to be told."

The obsessively researched result not only tells the compelling tale of two musical visionaries, it chronicles both the cruel and generous interweavings of genetics and fate. "It's a nature-versus-nurture story in a way," Browne said. "Both had so many of the same viewpoints and qualities, developed independently."

Tim, a woefully immature father at 20, had abandoned Jeff and his mother even before the child was born. Their only sustained contact came in 1975, when 8-year-old Jeff was invited for a brief stay with Tim and his new wife.

Jeff's abandonment became the central drama of his life. "A lot of friends felt he went through life feeling unloved as a result," Browne said.

Browne gained rare insight into Jeff's psyche from the access the family granted him to the artist's diaries, e-mails and even his answering-machine messages. "In his journals, you can see him agonizing over things," Browne explained. "His writing got wilder and the imagery more bizarrely vivid as time went on. I felt intrusive reading this at times, but I tried to be sensitive about what I plucked."

While Jeff told journalists that he knew nothing of his father, in fact he memorized every moment of the elder Buckley's life. Certainly, Jeff had been made aware at an early age of the incredible physical resemblance between them. Both had the lush mouths, heroic cheekbones and poet's eyes of storybook Prince Charmings. They also both sang like angels, sharing broad enough vocal ranges to turn their greatest melodic ambitions into song.

Browne finds Jeff a sympathetic figure. "He had so many dualities. On the one hand, he projected this waiflike, spacey character that could spook people or make women want to protect him. On the other, he could be very together, knowing just what he wanted from his music."

Certainly, Jeff had no trouble earning the awe of critics, his record company and early listeners. The one album released in his lifetime, "Grace," is considered a classic. "It was clear right away he could be in that league with Van Morrison and Neil Young-a real career artist," Browne said.

Because of the circumstances of Jeff's death, strange mythologies grew up around it-as if it had been fated. Browne contends the death "was fairly cut-and-dried. It's not suicide. It was a series of errors that led him to the riverbank that night. He had gone swimming in his boots and pants, and after 15 minutes that gets terribly heavy. He wasn't the most athletic guy. The wake of a tugboat went by. There was an undertow. He drowned. A friend told me of a story of him riding on the back of his motorcycle years ago and he just wasn't holding on. He would push it like that."

For fans of Jeff who know little of the musical connection with Tim, the elder Buckley's first career-spanning compilation will be released March 20 on Rhino. In the meantime, Browne hopes his book will tell people the story of more than just two musical geniuses. "It's also about the effect of generations on one another," he said. "It's the drama of a family."

This one, among the most haunting and talented families around.