I'm the guy who never really got into Jeff Buckley

But his dad was awesome.

Since Jeff Buckley’s brief career in the ’90s, it’s become difficult for a male singer-songwriter to get compared to anyone else—if you have a penis and a guitar, you can bet you’ll hear “sounds like Jeff Buckley meets…” so often you’ll wonder if he was the first guy to ever play music. Of course, his dad, Tim— who also died tragically young, in 1975—was much better, at least for most of his career. For those who think the Buckley mystique began with Jeff, Southpaw will host a screening of My Fleeting House, a collection of TV and live performances by Buckley père, tonight. The film, which is also out on DVD, features too much interstitial talking, though from the right people (biographer David Browne and collaborators Lee Underwood and Larry Beckett); the music itself is pure mellow gold of the finest post-hippie vintage. And Buckley’s awkward chats with audience members and (later) Steve Allen and Jayne Meadows are priceless. Doors are at 8pm, the showing begins at 9, and it’s free.

Find the version of "Song to the Siren" that appears on the Candy soundtrack. It's perfect.