Covering Cohen

I was first introduced to Leonard Cohen in the early '70s, back when he had quite a sweet singing voice himself. Before he'd taken on the croaking-toad manner of singing so common to fellow older Jewish males. Here I'm referring both to Bob Dylan and Neil Diamond, though I think they came by it more through substance abuse.

His voice was spare in the days but quite listenable. Even fine. "Suzanne" is one of the great songs of the rock era, certainly, and nobody does a better version of it than the author himself. I say this even after having listened to the much-vaunted Nina Simone cover. Forget Judy Collins (and somebody please shoot Nick Cave).

This was long before he'd written the darker works he's produced in later decades. Partly because I was young, but mostly because the early Leonard Cohen albums were in a pile of great music that emanated from this country in those days, I recall nothing special about the impact the man and his music had on me. 

The major wallop came much later in life:

The first time I heard Jeff Buckley's "Hallelujah".

That earth-shattering event occurred in 2002 or 2003. I played Buckley's cover over-and-over, for what seemed like hours, at top volume. I credit this one recording with single-handedly restoring my faith in rock music.

Now the second wallop, reeling as I am in the post-viewing-phase of "Leonard Cohen: I'm Your Man", the Cohen cover song lovefest recorded by a ragtag band of inbred (seemingly) musical oddities (mostly) set on destroying the poor man's artistic legacy.

But then . .