Ideally, a great musical biography about a genuine artist should enhance one’s appreciation for the subject’s work. That’s just what happened as I read “I’m Your Man: The Life of Leonard Cohen,” by my esteemed music journalism peer Sylvie Simmons.
I’ll confess that I first heard Cohen back in 1967 or so when his debut album came out, but he never quite grabbed my attention as much as his music deserved. Yes, his songs impressed me – “Suzanne,” the album’s first track, was prominently covered by Judy Collins – his voice, at the time, failed to win me over. For the longest time, I would quip that my favorite Cohen album was Famous Blue Raincoat, the 1987 set of Cohen songs by Jennifer Warnes, a singer I have long enjoyed and admired who had toured with him..
But over time Cohen and his voice wormed their way into my ears and affections. A Cohen concert in 1993 was a wonderful show (at an outdoor venue on a perfect summer night) that began to enhance my appreciation. Backed by a fine and highly sympathetic band, he displayed a compelling vocal authority alongside languid yet potent delivery that was charming indeed. In the early 2000s, the Cohen song “First We Take Manhattan” – the lead track from his 1988 album I’m Your Man – was a popular number at the bar I frequented on the CD jukebox (that I programmed for free drinks; life was sweet back then). Cohen had refined his vocal delivery, and I grew to be fond of the number. Sitting at the bar, slightly soused, I’d sing along with a line here and there, exaggerating his reading of the lyrics in slightly-snarky homage.
I liked and admired Cohen, yet he’d hadn’t fully captivated me. But as I read Simmons’ book, I finally “got” Cohen and started further digging into his music.
One might alternately subtitle the bio “Portrait of the Sometimes Depressed but Charming Artist as an Almost Lifelong Young Man.” I might even say I came to identify with Cohen, much as we may be different. He certainly offers a tempting model for living as a bohemian refugee from the upper middle class comfort in which he grew up in Montreal. Among the important measures of a man – maybe most important – is how well he is regarded by the women in his life. Handsome, always nattily-dressed, and it would seem a fountain of charm, he was quite the ladies man. The trail he left in his romantic wake was almost all warm and positive. That says something admirable about the character of a man and the cut of his jib.
He was a neurotic but disciplined creative artist, yet not a tortured one. As much as his songs (and poems and fiction) have their morose and melancholic strains, he was also a soul with a robust humor and largely positive frame of mind, He drank, smoked cigarettes and indulged in various drugs, yet degeneracy and addiction never stained him. He was a spiritual seeker who never abandoned his Jewish heritage, even as he spent a number of years as a monkish Buddhist. For all his accomplishments and accolades, he remained modest to a fault.
Or in other words, more simply, Cohen was one helluva mensch.
In the 500-plus pages of the book, Simmons quite richly and appealingly recounts a life lived to the fullest. I feel like I’ve really now come to know Cohen, and will deeply delve into his artistry, not just the many albums of studio and live recordings, but also his books of poetry and works of fiction. Amazon Prime also has a number documentary films about him to enjoy.
His story ends, as the best stories often do, with a tragedy and challenge: first, a manager who pilfered nearly all his accumulated riches. Then a triumphant world tour during which all the audience love and general acclaim Cohen was due came his way as well as more money than he’d had before. His good life ended well. His great work as one of the finest writers of our age will now enhance the later years of my life.
Musical Album: Blue on Blue by Sylvie Simmons – Cohen’s biographer is also a gifted musical artist whose second album, as its title hints at, bears complimentary comparisons to Cohen’s fellow Canadian Joni Mitchell. And to her classic album Blue in spirit and the disc’s sparse yet inventive and potent arrangements (thanks to producer Howe Gelb of Giant Sand fame) around her charmingly wispy, girlish voice and ukulele. A disarmingly subtle gem of an album that burrows its way into your heart, soul and imagination.
Documentary Film: “Henry VII: The Winter King” – Streaming on Amazon Prime, this BBC film fills out the fascinating profile of the first Tudor English monarch, long overshadowed by his heir Henry VIII and his daughter Queen Elizabeth I. His ruthless determination that won the War of Roses and fended off potential usurpers launched a legendary dynasty.
Rob Patterson is a music and entertainment writer in Austin, Texas. Email orca@prismnet.com.
From The Progressive Populist, February 1, 2021
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