95-01-14 Tivoli
Dublin, Ireland
01. Dream Brother
02. So Real
03. Last Goodbye
04. Eternal Life / Kick Out The Jams
05. What Will You Say
06. Lilac Wine
07. Mojo Pin
08. Grace
09. Lover, You Should've Come Over
10. Hallelujah
The tracklist above sourced from review below, and as such may be inaccurate, or missing tracks. Jeff had a cold this night.

"Directly adjoining the tin-roofed playhouse (now showing: Happy Birthday Dear Alice, "a hilarious new comedy by Bernard Farrell"), The Tivoli's consequently post-thesp Saturday night stage time of 1am does little to dissuade the hard-drinking denizens of Dublin. In a city where the cab drivers are as likely to be grooving to Ry Cooder & Ali Farka Toure as they are arguing along to talk radio, there's little point in drawing conclusions from the staggeringly heterogeneous crowd. Clearly, music fans all, there is nevertheless a hard core at the front who loudly proclaim themselves to be disciples. That said, the unheralded arrival of Buckley and his band comprising old friends, only recently tested in environments like this (drummer matt Johnson, guitarist Michael Tighe and bassist Mick Grondahl - as unfamiliar with the ugly stick as their leader, it should be said) goes unnoticed until - house DJ finally silenced - the refusal of Buckley's amplifier to spark into life eventually draws gazes to the stage, eliciting the first of tonight's many "ooohs" as his taut, almost feral frame settles, unfazed by this potentially embarrassing false start, on the edge of the drum riser.

Power restored, the band launch into Dream Brother, the fabled paean to its Buckley p�re, although according to its author concerning his close friend, ex-Fishbone keyboards and trombone player Chris Dowd ("I just wanted to sing about a man instead of a girl"). Immediately, Buckley's meuzzin wail is disturbing the rafters and the audience is already going hipswayingly apeshit at all this wobbly, warbling witchcraft.

So Real is just like the record, only louder: no mean feat considering the serpentine, voluptuous sound of the album and the strictly conventional line-up of two guitars, bass and drums upon which the Buckley voice is currently prostrated. So its is with The Last Goodbye and Eternal Life: the latter of all intents and purposes Helter Skelter re-cast with the metallic precision of grunge. This,and "a new one", What Will You Say (coincidenetly written by the former Fishboning friend), point to a possible firming up of Buckley's predominantly eerie, edgy canon; signaling too, perhaps, a resolve not to be forerver cast as the unkempt angel with the gossamer vocals.

Nor does Buckley limit himself to merely showboating with that flummoxing vocal range of his, instead often taking the very tenor of his voice and casting it off in all directions, his head shaking so violently as to raise doubts about the long-tern effects this style might have on that blessed larynx.

Lilac Wine, the oddity in Grace's already oddball trio of covers, is in stark contrast, delivered in such hushed tones as to be effectively drowned out by the audience "shhhhh'-ing the drinkers at the bar. Mojo Pin and Grace both rage with the vocal triumphalism of someone for whom failure seems to hold no special terror, while as if to counter these exterions (and prefaced with a warning "I'm nursing a cold"), the headily spiralling Lover, You Should Have Come Over opens out of a smouldering, gravely register.

It's a little after 2am when Buckley returns alone for the solitary encore, finding the wide open spaces in John Cale's reading of Cohen's Hallelujah before, and, just as the voice is finaly grounded ("I can't sing any more") calling a halt to the proceedings with a graceful arc into the delighted crowd.

Upstairs afterwards, a phalanx of Euro rock hacks swiftly encircle the man in the mouldering fake fur coat and busily feed him Grace CDs to be autographed. Eventually, a close female friend offers an escape route to the night, which the shattered and coughing Buckley gladly takes. How much longer he'll be allowed such an easy exit from the clammering corporate rock maw remains to be seen..." (excerpt review of this show from 'Jeff Buckley: A Cool and Clever Cat', Bill Prince, Q. Magazine, March 1995)