On May 29, 1997, 30-year-old singer Jeff Buckley impulsively waded into Memphis' Wolf River, only to be sucked under by its hidden currents. His death was an incalculable loss on a number of levels: Buckley was not only a unique spirit, but also an irreplaceable talent, a fearless performer whose astonishing vocal range and creative restlessness lent his live and studio work an undeniable electricity. He also left behind only one album, 1994's excellent and influential Grace, that had been completed to his satisfaction. In life, Buckley had an enigmatic, vulnerable, strangely mythical quality; in death, the myth has only been magnified, largely because history had repeated itself. His father, late-'60s/early-'70s folksinger Tim Buckley, shared his looks, his vocal range, his discomfort with the music industry, and his death at a young age, in Tim's case from a heroin overdose at 27. Telling their interlocking stories is no mean feat, complicated by everything from logistics (both men are dead, in Tim's case for 25 years) to the Buckleys' contradictory and erratic behavior. A charming, self-centered, self-destructive wanderer whose career was dashed by an uncooperative music industry and his own self-indulgence, Tim Buckley is arguably Dream Brother's least sympathetic character, having alienated friends and abandoned Jeff (and Jeff's mother) at an early age. For his part, the more sweetly offbeat Jeff Buckley displayed manic-depressive tendencies while spending his entire life coming to terms with—and usually dodging, if not outright disrespecting—his father's musical and personal legacy. Dream Brother, a dual biography by Entertainment Weekly's fine music critic, David Browne, does a remarkable job of piecing together a clear-headed, blow-by-blow account of their lives, built around exhaustive research (including more than 200 interviews) to get to the heart of the complicated personalities involved. The result can be coldly reportorial at times (and you could craft a drinking game around the number of times Browne uses the word "sundry"), but Dream Brother is a refreshing deviation from the more mawkish wayward-angel eulogizing that followed in the wake of the younger Buckley's death. Tim and Jeff Buckley receive more or less equal time here, which can be a disadvantage to those who vastly prefer one over the other, but Dream Brother respects the lives and fascinating works of both men, reveling in their dizzying musical peaks. It's an essential and engrossing supplement to two adventurous musical legacies that have long demanded further illumination.