Damned, damned expectations! Always filling me with tension, always creating false hopes, always diluting the beautiful moments in a sea of apprehension. The expectations of others, then, frighten me and block me at pathological levels, locking me in my "deep and mysterious fortress" with triple locks. Damned!
Yet what happens when expectations are not only met but greatly exceeded and forgotten? Perhaps the answer lies in this concert, the last of Leonard Cohen’s European tour this year, titled “Old Ideas”.
The first expectation is shattered a few minutes before the concert, with a full Pavilhão Atlântico contrary to all predictions. At the time of closing online sales, in fact, the concert was far from sold out. However, the room is bustling with people chatting in Portuguese, Spanish, and English, and the audience is varied even in terms of age: to my left, for example, there is an Englishwoman who could be my mother, to my right a guy of an undefined nationality who might be the age of my grandfather, and me, a twenty-two-year-old, in the middle. And I wasn’t the only one, although I didn’t expect a great influx of young people, considering the age of the evening's protagonist.
The concert begins with the customary academic quarter of an hour: the now more than seasoned (and elegantly dressed) musicians who accompany Cohen take the stage. The band is almost identical to that of the 2008 and 2010 tours, except for the violinist Alexandru Bublitchi, who replaces Dino Soldo's sax, and the guitarist Mitch Watkins, who substitutes Bob Metzger. Even the lighting design that transforms the band into shadows between songs is practically identical to that used two years ago. And could it be a carbon copy concert of those already seen on the previous tour? Thinking about it, the risk isn’t so slight: Cohen is elderly, from 2010 to today he has seen the end of a world tour, the release of a new record, and the preparation of another tour. Was there enough time and energy to create something new? And then that title, “Old Ideas”, doesn't exactly inspire much hope…
The notes of “Dance Me To The End Of Love”, now traditionally the opening of every concert, seem to make that fear more tangible. But it takes little to realize that it’s really just a matter of the setlist. The “lazy bastard living in a suit” who takes the stage – accompanied by the night's first standing ovation – is indeed the same as two years ago, surely with a few more wrinkles, but his charm and ability to enchant the audience are directly proportional to his age.
In the setlist, songs written starting in 1967 (the year of the release of “Songs Of Leonard Cohen”) mix in a perfect blend up to 2012. The audience is eager, letting itself be enchanted and disoriented by the instrumental parts that introduce some of the songs, particularly those masterfully executed by Javier Mas on oud and bandurria. The splendid arrangements level the substantial musical differences between the various periods of Cohen's production, without diminishing or depriving the songs of their personality. On the contrary, sometimes they breathe new life into them, as in the case of many tracks from the ‘80s, often weighed down by electronics and superfluous effects. And perhaps this is what the last few years of touring have been for: redesigning, smoothing, chiseling, and cleaning until achieving perfect balance.
Of course, the great classics are not missing: “Suzanne”, “Hallelujah”, the very sensual “I'm Your Man”, “Tower Of Song”, “Bird On The Wire”, “The Partisan” (which, just to debunk a myth, is not by Cohen) presented in a remarkable version, songs that demonstrate how much the Canadian artist has entered the imagination of the present audience and beyond. Welcomed surprises of the evening are the intense “Night Goes On”, “The Guests” (absent from Cohen's concerts since 1985) and a splendid version of “Coming Back To You” gifted to the audience by the sublime Webb Sisters.
The hoarse and enviable “golden voice”, the old and knobby hands gripping the microphone, some human uncertainties, the smiles and bows directed at the audience, the immense humility and respect Cohen shows towards the musicians accompanying him are the indelible trademark of the evening, the humanity that strikes beyond the music itself.
The highlight of the evening is probably the first encore, “So Long, Marianne”, with an audience now standing under the stage, happy to sing the well-known chorus at the top of their lungs. I, of course, gladly contributed. The whole thing concludes almost four hours after the start with the very appropriate “I Tried To Leave You” and a cover of “Save The Last Dance For Me” by The Drifters, the thirty-second song of the night.
Cohen’s last words are a blessing for his audience, the audience he loves and respects, before whom he kneels and removes his hat several times during the evening. “May you be surrounded by friends and family, and if this is not your lot, may the blessings find you in your solitude”. Profoundly touched (almost moved, I admit), I hastily jot it down on a notepad before stepping out into the mild Lisbon night.
For once without a trace of disappointment.
Loading comments slowly