#'what if eddie broke down while telling chris' what if he fucking didn't

[philtatosbuck]

some of you only see / treat chris as a prop for buddie and it’s always been clear but never so much until now lmao

[exhuastedpigeon]

There are so many moments in this one minute scene that are going to live rent free in my head for the next 10-12 years.

Shirtless Eddie and Buck watching him

Buck's outfit? That's what we call serving cunt folks

Buck inviting Eddie go-karting in the desert - babes that was a date invite I can feel it.

Buck's little confused head shake when he hears 'first date' because he thought things were going well with Marisol. These boys clearly still don't talk about their romantic relationships with each other... i wonder why??? HMMMM

Eddie telling Buck about Chris's date and Buck's little "oh no"

The way Eddie only brought up Natalia after Buck said "so it's actually your date" because Marisol was going to be there to 'help chaperone'

The way Eddie says Natalia. There isn't a major tone shift, but there's a little bitterness in her name as it comes out of his mouth.

Buck casually saying "we broke up" and "I don't know why I thought dating a death doula was a good idea"

Eddie's bitchy 'i fucking knew it' face when Buck says they broke up.

Eddie not wanting Buck to talk bad about himself, even if it is about his questionable relationship choices, so he jumps in with the "to be fair you had just died"

Eddie's hand on Buck's shoulder while he says "welcome back to the world of the living Buck."

THE WAY EDDIE SAYS "YOU WERE MISSED" because he did miss his best friend!

The way Eddie dragged his hand down Buck's shoulder just a little, like he didn't want to break contact.

Buck's chuffed little smile at the end after Eddie leaves.

Also, the way Buck didn't tell us who broke up with who. "We broke up" is something you usually say when you get dumped. If he broke up with her he probably would have said "I broke up with her"

ANYWAY! Can't wait until next week.

[swiftiefirefighters]

i guess i just jotted down a several sentences sunday that's a bit of a continuation of the little proposal i wrote last night. i've had this bit of, like, buddie talking about how they Could Have Been in another life for a while and in it it's always happening in this exactly situation. i don't think i'll ever write a longer fic but i thought i could make it part of that universe.

buck/tommy but mostly buck/eddie as the platonic soulmateism variety on buck and tommy's wedding day. i hope you enjoy it. please tell me if you do.

"so what are you thinking about, buckley?" eddie steps into the room. he's wearing a suit and his hair is loose and falling into his face. if buck didn't know better, he'd think eddie was trying to show him up on his own wedding day.

"my name isn't going to be buckley in like an hour." he turns around, sucking in a breath. "do you think i chose the right suit? maybe i should have gone with the green."

"the blue is perfect. everyone will be lucky if tommy doesn't rip it off you right there at the alter." eddie adjusts buck's tie ever so slightly.

"right." buck laughs and ducks his head.

"i'm still calling you buck. i am not going to start calling you evan."

"no, please don't. weird." buck laughs.

"are you nervous?"

"oh for fucking sure." buck breathes in. "what if he leaves me at the aisle?"

"tommy? no way, man. he's been in love with you since you met. do you remember what an asshole you acted like? you fucking broke my leg, buck!"

"you sprained your ankle. don't be dramatic." he laughs quietly. "oh god, you're going to talk about that in your best man's speech, aren't you?"

"guess you'll have to wait and find out."

"such an asshole."

"that's why i'm your best friend."

"dad! they're ready for buck!" chris pops his head into the room and then immediately ducks back out.

"well, that's it then. you're about to be off the market."

"i think i've been off the market for a while."

"maybe." eddie brushes some lint off buck's shoulder. "you look great. tommy is a lucky man. you are too. you deserve this."

"you know," buck laughs. "there was a time when - i don't know. i know before tommy i didn't really - " buck waves his hand around. "but i did wonder about us."

"us?" eddie raises an eyebrow.

"you know, yeah. i watched you get shot in front of me and just thought, if i lose him now - " he shrugs. "but then you were fine and you were with ana and i just let it pass. we were both straight - i thought we were both straight, anyway." buck grins. "but in another life - "

"you wish, buckley." eddie rolls his eyes. "but yeah, maybe. maybe in another life the last thought before i thought i was dying was i love him and he'll never know."

"damn, we really could have been epic."

"nah, this is how it was supposed to happen."

"you're right, diaz. don't let it go to your head. would have been fun, maybe, to have a fling, though."

"i'm gonna tell your husband you said that. i'm rewriting my speech as we speak."

"if you tell my new husband i confessed i had a lapse in judgement half a decade ago, i swear to god!"

"hey, you're the one who told me on your wedding day!"

"eddie!" buck laughs. "i do love you, you know. you're my best friend."

"yeah, i'm the best. it's true." eddie hugs around buck and grips the back of his neck, tightly. "you're more than my best friend. hope tommy realizes that he's marrying you, but i'm part of the deal."

"oh he definitely knows that."

"BUCK!"

"when did chris get so loud?" buck snorts.

"he gets that from you." there's a twinkle in eddie's eye. "i hope tommy also knows he's a step dad to a teenager who's angling for a car for his 16th birthday."

"oh chris has already started telling him about it."

"come on, lets go walk you down the aisle before chris goes to get maddie to come yell at you, buckley. or should i say Mr. Evan Kinard." eddie hooks his arm in buck's.

"that sounds so fucking good."

"yeah, yeah it sounds pretty right."

buck grins and lets eddie lead him to the hall where his future husband is waiting.

[m3r1m4r5u333]

I was thinking of the episode titles in season 7 in relation to Buddie.

7x01 "Abandon ships" basically has them abandoning their current relationships, right?

Buck tells Eddie that he broke up with Natalia.

Also, Eddie needs help co-parenting and instead of asking his girlfriend, he asks Buck to talk with Chris.

The way they combine Eddie's and Marisol's date with Christopher's, and then Eddie muses about the date feeling just friendly when the camera is actually focused on him and Marisol...

Then Buck brings up sexual tension while he's putting out a fire... And Eddie stares.

---

The emergency in 7x01, introducing the couple at the pool? Feels like a recap of past events.

With the guy passing out mid sex and the woman becoming trapped due to the stress response making her muscles spasm...?

Is truly such a hilarious retelling of Eddie's panic attacks.

The poor woman, still trapped, is basically living the life of Ana Flores:

"I don't even know how this happened. I mean, I know how it happened. We were, you know, doing it, and then he got woozy and started complaining about chest pains, and he went limp. Well, mostly - because every time I try to get free, I can't! What is happening?!"

The team tries to figure out how to help,

Hen comes to the conclusion that the medical emergency does not appear to be a heart attack (much like Eddie's panic attacks weren't either) and then states that

"What we need to do, is get him out of this hot water!"

(Hot water, indeed.)

The woman begs for help because she does not wish to have an embarrassing hospital trip.

The parallel - remember the cringy conversation at the hospital, when the doctor & the people in the room were trying to figure out what could be making Eddie so stressed, and Eddie reveals his hand by looking at Ana. Embarrassing all around!

So the team at the pool tries to come up with a solution, and decide they should help her relax.

Eddie's watching the pool scene unfold and is then like

"(*sighs*) This is the story of my fucking life. Okay, I got this. I know how to deal with panic attacks!"

So he orders Buck to switch with Hen, to get Buck closer.

So the first step to the road to recovery and getting out of panic mode is Buck getting closer! (And he did, didn't he. Eddie talked with Buck, then broke up with Ana, and Eddie was able spend more time with Buck again.)

Then Eddie asks if Buck's "got him?" (meaning the man who's collapsed), Buck does.

Then Eddie rambles on about a game called Jell-o body, to get the woman to relax. Apparently that's how Eddie also calms himself down (which is a fun fact I did not know I needed, but I will cherish it to the grave anyway).

I'm not entirely sure what the "lime jell-O" reference could mean, but after some obsessed googling, I'm thinking it means incompatible ingredients - components which do not work well together.

These absolutely mad jell-o recipes used to be a thing, and also ridiculed. Go listen to "Lime Jello Marshmallow Cottage Cheese Surprise", if you haven't, it's pretty funny.

Anyway. Would make sense in the context I'm seeing here. Picturing lime jell-O is what brings the stress level down because it reminds you that it's okay to let go. Some things just aren't meant to be. Like Eddie and Ana weren't!

...

So. Does this mad rambling of mine make any sense to anyone but me? 😅

[edgessunflower]

😭😔 with Eddie Guererro?

Eeeeh

He doesn't define you

Pairing: Eddie Guerrero x Fem reader

Description: You confront your biological father after an exhausting tag team match with your boyfriend Eddie

Warning: Emotions, Minor swearing, and talks of child abandonment

A/N: I cried like a baby writing this especially since my biological father abandoned me as a little girl 🥺

The match was exhausting as you and your boyfriend Eddie Guerrero were against Chris Jericho and Chyna for a chance to go against Edge and Christian for the tag team champions title. The two of you did well together but as the match went on the four of you grew exhausted as none of you would give up even when you broke jericho's nose and eddie accidentally fractured chyna's finger, your chewing on your nails as eddie and jericho hit each other with chops but your heart stops when you see a familiar face of the man who abandoned you as a young child and who you haven't seen since you were 15, jumping in when you see chyna with a chair getting hit in the face still seeing your biological father staring at you not even noticing that eddie got the pin and had won for the two of you noticing the tears that slowly brimmed in your eyes as the two of you raise your belts feeling a bit sore from the chair hit before walking out of the ring where you started to shake with quiet sobs backstage and they broke free after the two of you went in his locker room. "What's wrong mi bebita?" you break down telling him everything, calming down and getting up to check on chyna since she was a friend to you with eddie next to you stopping when you see your father backstage in the corner whispering to eddie to talk to chyna waiting until the door was closed "Hey darling it's been" you cut him off angrily feeling rage boil in you "What the hell do you want? I haven't seen you in seven years and now all of a sudden you appear?! It's because I have money don't I?" he stands there sniffling which only makes you scoff as he tries to "Tell the truth" to you only blaming your mom for her telling him to get his shit together and get clean from drugs but instead he left her, you, and your siblings to fend for yourselves finding out later on that he didn't want any of you which ripped your heart out of your body only making the hatred within you grow "You didn't want any of us you didn't give a fuck then! Why give a fuck now huh?! I have mom and I have a dad, he's been there ever since I was born, was there for every birthday and holiday, took me out for lunch for the day, saw me before I went to formal and prom, saw me graduate, always hugged me with a kiss on my head and told me he loved me and the best part was he was there not because he felt like he had to, needed to, or was told to he was there in my life because he fucking wanted to and loved me with all his heart!" you felt your body shake with sobs as your lungs gasp for air, your face covered with nonstop tears, and your heart pounding as Edge, Christian, and Rikishi turned only to see the confrontation you waited to happen for years. They watch as you turn only have him grab your arm fixing to grab security or jump in when you swing and slap him with all your might "I swear to god you put your hands on me again I'll beat the shit out of you as mom or anyone else who was around you should have a long fucking time ago" christian grabs security as you turn feeling ashamed that the three saw what happened before being pulled into a hug by edge while rikishi stops him from reaching you after he gets up feeling anger seeing all the snake trails on his arms you have him stand behind you with edge as you stare him in the eyes "The only difference between then and now is that I actually know the truth and I get to say goodbye and this one is for good, goodbye stranger now get the hell out of here before I really lose control" security escorts him out after sharing a group hug with the boys before walking back to the locker room quietly crying where eddie finds you having heard everything immediately pulling you in his arms "I'm so proud of you for taking that step to truly heal, he doesn't define you and you are not him, I love you carino" you cry in newfound emotions in his arms before heading home feeling safe and calmer in his arms feeling a long heavy weight lift off of you.

[rainbow-nerdss]

you were my town

Written for @augustwritingchallenge day 10: Exiled Buddie, 1.3k AO3 link (Part 2)

Eddie first kissed Buck on a Wednesday evening in June, and everything clicked into place. There in Eddie’s house, on his couch, with the sounds of Chris’s video game echoing from his room down the hall, Buck knew nothing would ever be the same.

He was terrified, but he was so, so happy.

Eddie kissed Buck, and when they pulled apart, Buck saw the nerves in his expression. 

“Buck, I—”

“Me too, Eddie.” Buck cupped his face, tracing a finger over Eddie’s jaw, watching his eyes flutter closed. “Fuck, me too.”

Buck wanted to tell everyone.

Eddie… didn't.

He wasn’t ready to come out, he was still processing it, and Buck understood. It was difficult to keep something so huge, something that made him so happy from his family, from Maddie, but he understood, and he’d wait as long as Eddie needed.

He was over the moon, going out with Eddie whenever they could manage it, staying over when Chris went to sleepovers, sneaking kisses in the bunk room between calls, falling deeper and further in love with each passing day.

Buck was happy. They’d tell people eventually, but for now the thrill of keeping it a secret, the sneaking around, the furtive glances when nobody was watching, it was all he needed or wanted. 

Just Eddie. Just them.

Buck could see that Eddie felt bad about it, though. When Maddie asked whether Buck was seeing someone, mentioning how happy he seemed, Eddie averted his eyes with a frown. In Bobby’s backyard, when everyone split into couples and the two of them stand a careful distance apart, Buck incapable of tearing his eyes away from Eddie, he saw the frown lines on his face. 

Finally, the guilt got the better of him. The shame, the fear, the hurt.

"I can't keep doing this to you, Buck,” he said. “I think… I think we need to go back to how things used to be. I can’t make you lie to them for my sake."

Buck couldn’t believe his ears. His heart wanted to break, but he fought it. “Go back? Eddie, no. I don’t want that. I’m happy, aren’t you? I thought we were happy.” 

Eddie wouldn’t even look him in the eye as he shook his head. “You should have someone who can love you the way you deserve to be loved, Buck.”

His voice broke on Buck’s name, and Buck lost hold of the pieces of his heart, feeling them shatter.

"Eddie, I can't just… Please, Eds. I love you." Tears pricked at his eyes.

"I love you too,” Eddie said, and Buck knew that already. He knew without a single doubt, and somehow that made it hurt so much worse. “I love you so much, but I just… I can't do this anymore."

Buck wanted to break down, wanted to curl up in a ball and sob, wanted Eddie to comfort him, but… he couldn’t. Instead, he turned the sadness to anger, grit his teeth and lashed out with his words.

“So, what?” he spat. “You just want me to forget these past few months? Forget everything we’ve done, how it felt to have you, forget how much I love you and just go back to being friends?”

Eddie said nothing. He stared at a spot on the floor in between them, and he said nothing.

And finally, Buck just stood and walked away.

Work was impossible. Being around his family, suffering this heartbreak while pretending nothing had happened, when the only person who knew why he was upset was the one who caused it, it was too much.

He couldn’t do this.

Buck requested some time off from Bobby — he hadn’t used any of his vacation time in  years, and Bobby was happy to allow it, asking where he was planning to go.

“Just… traveling,” Buck said. “It’s been a while since I’ve been out of the city.” 

He didn’t think Bobby bought it, but he didn’t have the energy to think of a better excuse.

Eddie frowned when Buck told him, like he hadn’t seen it coming. 

They hadn’t looked each other in the eye since that day. They pretended at work, though every call where they worked side by side felt like a blade through Buck’s chest. Eddie knew Buck better than anyone else. Surely he knew what this was doing to him?

"What about Christopher?" Eddie asked.

Buck looked up then, meeting Eddie’s eyes and refusing to look away. "I'm not leaving him. I’ll call him." 

Eddie winced. It was clear what Buck meant, the emphasis on him. Because Buck might not have been leaving Chris, but he was leaving Eddie.

He took Chris out for the day before he left, just the two of them. They went to the zoo, and Buck broke the news as they sat down, eating ice cream by the sea lion enclosure

“I’m gonna be out of town for a couple of weeks, okay buddy? I’ll call, and I promise I’ll be back, I just… I’ll be back.”

"What about dad?” Chris asked. “He's been really sad lately, he needs you here."

They hadn't told Chris that they’d been together, not in so many words. They were taking things slow, making sure it would last before they said anything.

Buck was grateful for that much, at least. Glad that Chris wasn’t suffering along with them.

"I need him too, bud,” Buck admitted, and even just saying those words, his voice shook, threatening another round of crying. “It's just… it's complicated. I need some time apart, and so does he."

Chris had his own phone now, so Buck could stay in touch without going through Eddie. No matter what happened, he knew Eddie wouldn't deny him that.

Maddie was worried about him, and Buck couldn’t blame her. She remembered the last time he ran, after all. The last time she ran. He assured her he'd be okay, that it wasn’t like before. He had a home to come back to now. 

“What happened to you, Buck? You were so happy, and now—” her lips curled downwards, clearly on the verge of tears, which almost set Buck off, too. “You know you can tell me, whatever it is.”

Buck shook his head. “I can’t, it’s… It’s not mine to tell, Maddie. I’ll be okay. I just… I need a little time, that’s all.”

He talked to her on the phone most days, telling her about the places he saw, and listening to her talk about everyone at home. 

She didn't mention Eddie. 

Buck didn't know if that was because she knew, or if she just didn't want Buck to feel bad that Eddie wasn't doing well.

Because he wasn’t okay. He couldn’t be. Buck would know that even if nobody told him, because he knew what Eddie must be feeling. 

Because it couldn’t be all that far from what Buck was feeling.

He called Chris daily, and always carefully steered clear of asking after Eddie. 

Bobby called once a week, just to catch up.

Everyone else, well… Buck sent out updates every once in a while. He responded when they reached out, but that was about it. 

He didn't stay anywhere for too long at first. A week in Portland, then a few days in Seattle before heading east, catching a flight to Chicago, where he stayed for just a single night. 

It all felt empty.

He steered clear of cities after that, nowhere feeling right. He knew it was futile, that he wouldn't feel comfortable anywhere but at home. Not just L.A., but Eddie's house. 

Buck had been about to give up his lease, he’d been trying to figure out the right fucking words to ask Eddie if he could move in.

And now he was on his own.

He rented a little cabin on the edge of the woods, just a short drive from the shore of lake Michigan. It was nice.

He had a neighbor, an old guy called Henry who lived about a half mile down the road, but other than that, other than his phone calls, it was just Buck. 

Henry stopped by when he saw Buck had moved in, and invited him fishing. Buck was shit at it, but the company was welcome. 

It wasn’t the sea, but it was close enough.

It wasn’t home, but it was… 

Well, it wasn’t home.

[dreamsister81]

 Jeff and MI:

By age, you fit in the G.I.T generation, but you obviously are not one of them...

These facilities are a mystery to me. There they tell you only one thing: hurry up! This leads you nowhere, afterwards your own children run away from you. Through these trainings you get to know women, you get to know men, music is inoculated into people who have no feeling for it; then they can only scare other people or insult them...

I was in this terrible place too, by the way-G.I.T That was a complete waste of time, apart from the theoretical lessons and the friends that I had there. Otherwise: an absolute wrong decision.

How long have you studied there?

One year, the normal program. They give you tons of material, you have to absorb everything, you practice, you are tested and you go to the next course. An intensive support with development is simply not possible. I did so many things: theory, single string technique, jazz class, rock class, all sorts of genres. My friend John was teaching bass there, and he once said that there is not a single teacher at the institute who says to the students, "OK, you're learning all this stuff here now, you're learning how to entertain people and you're learning to learn. But do you even know that there is no one in the universe other than yourself who plays the music you play? " John left the school then. For me it was all a joke that cost me $ 3,900. People interested in music should take private lessons somewhere, start a band, do something with people who like them and have what it takes. These schools are a scene in their own right, a very small, secluded world-the music, on the other hand, is gigantic and open. If you don't notice it, you miss a lot of magic, pain, development...(thinks) and rock! Apart from Paul Gilbert, there was no one there who really rocked. Session musicians are bred there; and at the end of the year you get a piece of paper that says, "Now you have the skills to become a professional musician." Well, congratulations! And then you look for jobs and play what other people want. But that's not all the music, there's something else isn't there? Where's the music coming from? From your own head or stomach, or the concepts of the people you work for?-Gitarre & Bass, October,  1995

.

.

.

I had a friend named John Humphrey. I went to this really crappy guitar school for a year, and he used to teach there, he was a bass teacher. And then he left, and we ended up being roommates later on, after I graduated. This is the kind of school where you give them a shitload of money in order to spend a year learning their curriculum.

What was it, G.I.T. (Guitar Institute of Technology in Los Angeles)?

Yeah, it was G.I.T.. They give you their curriculum, and it's not too comprehensive, but it's just enough, and then you can [snaps his fingers] move on to the next thing. And pretty soon you have all this shit inside you and then they give you this paper that says you have what it takes to be a professional musician.

It's a rock-oriented thing, isn't it?

In the end, I think, the only true product of that kind of learning is to get you gigs on the studio circuit and to get you gigs on the session guy circuit.

So, Lee Ritenour went there or something?

G.I.T. was started by Howard Roberts, the guy who played the wah-wah guitar on the theme to Shaft. And this other guy named Pat Hayes. I don't know. It just seemed like a racket, really. John said a lot of things to me that stuck in my mind. He said that there was nobody who stopped you, sat you in a room and said, okay, we have all these artists that you're learning the licks from, you have your guitar heroes, your virtuoso lust objects. But there's nobody who can make the kind of music you can make now except for you. And you can make it now. You don't even have to know how to go fast. And that makes all the sense to me in the world. It's also kind of an unseen process, that concept, originality. It's like that in all the education systems; there's never any real...identity education, self-generative identity art sort of thing, to be yourself. If everybody in Melbourne had a Wurlitzer organ and had the passion to sing something or make something, you'd have hundreds of thousands of different styles, if they were coming exactly from only their DNA, only their makeup, and their emotional percepts, their idea about what art is. You could have way-removed genres from what is already accepted, avante-garde country-rock-punk-folk-whatever. It's unlimited. But for some reason, the conventions always take over and there's a very ready and powerful formula to step into...

Those are the type of [formula-derived] players who can say, "Well, I was listening to the radio in 1967 and I heard the guitar solo in Jimi Hendrix's 'All Along the Watchtower,' and that guitar sound, that tone, would work perfectly for this television commercial."

Yeah. See? "Stealing from the greats, that's okay." That's right. Once I stopped in [at G.I.T.] years later, when I was on tour going through L.A., just to see what it was like. They've got a completely high-tech, multi-million dollar facility...

More so than when you had been there?

Way more. When I was there, it was just a ragtag bunch of teachers, and they had all left by then. They had video facilities and a class for stage moves and all kinds of things. And I saw this guy who was working the desk, the guy who watches the door. He had a bass on, and he was practicing his Nirvana chops! He was playing "In Bloom" on his bass, way up on his chest, jazz-fusion style, to the Nirvana song. I thought, oh shit--he was practicing his grunge riffs! He was getting his grunge down! Best fucking thing you can do, if you have the interest, is go to a private teacher, go someplace, some college, and learn theory. That was something I really enjoyed, actually, something that wasn't totally pointless. Theory meaning the meaning of the musical nomenclature. I was attracted to really interesting harmonies, stuff that I would hear in Ravel, Ellington, Bartok.-Double Take, February 29, 1996

.

.

.

Once the site of a seakeasy and a bra factory, the 30,000-square-foot quarters were now the home of Musicians Institute, a vocational school for anyone who considered himself or herself a serious musician. With its wooden desks and chipped-tile hallways, MI resembled any other urban school, but at those desks, student guitarists and drummers studied scales and power chords in hopes of becoming the next Eddie Van Halen or Neil Peart, the flashy drummer with Rush. On their way to class each morning, flaxen-haired guitar gods in training could be spotted holding their guitars and practicing licks as they walked down Hollywood Boulevard.

Jeff had heard about Musicians Institute (and its subdivision, the Guitar Institute of Technology) while in high school and told everyone it was his one and only destination. However, potential superstardom did not run cheap. The school charged $4,000 for its one year course, and by the time Jeff Graduated from Loara High School, Mary Guibert was beginning to fall on hard financial times as she went in and out of jobs. In need of money for herself and her two sons, she prematurely broke into a $20,000 fund earmarked for Jeff, but only after he tured nineteen. Once Mary proved to the courtsthat Jeff needed it for his education, he and Mary received it a year early. In a deep irony, the father Jeff had barely met and increasingly resented would be paying his son's way through music school.

On graduation night, September 15, 1985, at the Odyssey in Granada Hills in the San Fernando Valley, Jeff, Stoll, and Marryatt closed the ceremony by playing Weather Report's "Pearl On the Half Shell."-from Dream Brother

.

.

.

With its 30-odd thousand feet of floor space and row upon row of "labs", where hopeful guitar heroes could jam with such shit-hot players as Scott Henderson, LA's Musician's Institute must have seemed like nirvana for someone like Jeff Buckley, trapped as he was behind the Orange Curtain. According to his buddy Chris Dowd, that's exactly why Buckley enrolled there, arriving just before autumn, 1984, bankrolled by $4,000 that Mary managed to squeeze from a Tim Buckley trust fund.

Originally known as the Guitar Institute, which in itself says plenty, the school was opened in 1977. Drawing on the educational philosophy of journeyman guitarist Howard Roberts, it was co-founded and managed by Los Angeles music businessman Pat Hicks, "a real shyster opportunist", in the words of Tom Chang, an expat Canadian who would become very tight with Jeff Buckley during their two years at the Institute. In 1978, thr Bass Institute was opened, followed by the Percussion Institute two years later. Desppite Hicks' questionable business ethics-amongst other things, he'd hire students as cheap labour to do essential maintenance work on the building, which led to Buckley being hired as an electrician's assistant soon after graduating-he did manage to persuade well regarded players and bands to lecture, and play alongside, the hopefuls who'd enrolled there.

What Buckley lacked up in "front" he clearly made up for in ambition. That was proved, in spades, by Buckley's graduation performance which was played out on September 15, 1985, at a venue called the Odyssey in Granada Hills. While the sonic crush and enviable chops of Rush and Led Zeppelin still rocked the world of this Orange County teen, Buckley had also developed a real taste for such "noodlers" as Weather Report.

The number chosen by Buckley for graduation was their "D Flat Waltz" (not "Pearl On The Half-Shell", as documented elsewhere, which they'd performed at a previous event), a typically complicated few minutes of Weather Report neo-fusion-a "really cool piece, very involved", according to Tom Chang-and a standout from their 1983 set Domino Theory. But Buckley, accompanied by Stoll on drums and Marryatt on bass, didn't just play the piece, he also wrote the individual parts out beforehand for the band.-from A Pure Drop

MI pics by me