I came late to Leonard Cohen. I’d heard of him, of course – what Canadian growing up in the 60’s and 70s hadn’t – but I never really heard him until about twenty years ago (at which point I was nearly 40 and he’d have been homing in on 60).
At the time, I was embarking on a new relationship, and my new paramour was a lifelong Cohen fan. She’d discovered him when so many did, in her tormented teens, and he’d been a part of her life ever since. Under her influence, I began listening to Cohen songs old and new, and quickly fell under his spell.
Twenty years on, I’m still listening, marvelling always at his alchemy with words, his deceptively catchy melodies, his casual commingling of the sacred and profane, his determined, indestructible, overarching humanity.
A few years ago, my appreciation of Mr. Cohen was dramatically enhanced when we saw him perform in concert. To explain why, some backstory is in order.
I’d read that Leonard Cohen was embarking on a world tour, with early dates in Victoria (close by) and Vancouver (ditto) and my first thought was: my wife has never seen him live – we have to go.
My second thought was: look where he’s playing. Stadiums. Arenas. Big concrete bowls. In other words, entirely the wrong environment in which to enjoy the acutely personal, intensely intimate charms of Leonard Cohen’s music. (My wife hates big box performance venues; if you can’t see the whites of their eyes, what’s the point of being there?) So I passed.
A couple of months later, the reviews of those early shows appeared. And I realised that I had made a huge mistake.
Every reviewer raved. About the show. About Leonard. About the set, the band, the backup singers. About Leonard some more. Seems he’d crafted a show that delivered all his signature intimacy and emotion with incredible power – despite the cavernous venues. If anyone could make a football stadium feel like a St Urbain coffeehouse – it was Leonard Cohen. It was, many wrote, the best concert of the decade…
I spent the better part of a year kicking myself for the missed opportunity, while Mr. Cohen travelled the world performing to universal acclaim. Then: a second chance. A couple of dates were added to the end of the tour, one of which was a second stop in Victoria. I booked tickets the instant they became available.
That show remains one of the most memorable concerts I’ve ever seen (and having worked for years in rock radio, I’ve seen a few). There was no opener, no fancy effects – it was just three hours of Leonard Cohen and his band, performing his songs. In every aspect, it was a superlative show: artistically, technically, you name it – it was flawless.
But here’s what makes it even more amazing to me. At the time, Leonard Cohen was around 76 years old. Read that again. 76. When we saw him, he’d been on the road performing this gruelling three hour show for an entire year. Yet the show he gave us was as fresh and tight and sincere as if it was their first week on the road. Knowing this deepened my appreciation of the show, and the man, enormously. Not only is he an artist of international stature; as a performer he is a professional of the first order.
I understand he is marking his 80th birthday with the release of a new CD. I’ll be picking up a copy for my wife. And myself.
Happy birthday Leonard. And many more.
For a fuller appreciation of the man, his works and his wisdom, check out this interview with CBC’s Q: http://www.cbc.ca/q/blog/2014/09/21/leonard-cohen-80th-birthday/index.html