Today would be Jeff Buckley's 44th birthday.

I feel a little artificial saying, "What a tragic loss." I didn't know the man. I didn't know his music until years after his death. I'm not familiar with his full catalog of music. Dwelling on any what-might-have-beens is an unnatural affectation.

But his voice... If that doesn't move you, what could move you?

What would I give to be able to do anything--not even music, just anything--with the emotional range and crystalline expression of his rendition of Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah"? Just give me one take to feel what it's like. This is the top of the mountain. Grace or not, this is ground where not even angels are fit to tread.

Yes, of course, the artist himself might not be defined by a single moment, but in this life-in-death of his, all that exists are these recorded moments. So, in honor of Jeff Buckley's birthday, celebrate the moment: