Leonard Cohen
Old Ideas

After a careful and uncritical phase of observation and reading of DeBaser, a nice place full of characteristic subjects, I realized that there are really few people who understand music. Yes, it's true there are a lot of people who go against a certain mainstream, who know bands and artists unknown to the masses, who play the part of a certain nostalgic proletariat, filled with a Marxist ideology of music.

But music is not an algebraic equation: there is no written rule that the rock band playing in the garage of an old workshop or that the unlucky but talented street artist is better than those who achieve celebrity. Just as the opposite is not true. One should have a critical approach in general, not schematic. One should understand that music is absolute freedom like all art and in this sense, a schematic and so material approach (what is Marxism if not the most material and cynical philosophy ever existed?) is short-sighted.

After this necessary introduction, I am about to review an album by Leonard Cohen in 2012, probably the greatest and perhaps the gloomiest bard ever existed. I have often had mixed feelings when approaching his records (we're talking about the first part of his production) and his greatness and his confidential and poetic way of singing have often also aroused a certain sense of discomfort in me. I often kept my distance, preferring other stuff, trying to find different sensations in music than those of abandonment and nostalgic amusement that his music evoked in me. I thought quite a bit before listening to this "Old Ideas," but in the end, the judgment can still only be the same: although his musical form has changed a lot over the years, the unique and extraordinary ability remains to whisper to the soul, to create an enveloping atmosphere, to give his lyrics an incredibly intimate and confidential tone. Under a cloak of bare and minimal sounds (we could almost speak of minimal jazz if I am allowed to use this expression), his warm and time-worn voice speaks and creates a fascinating and timeless melody. The greatness of music is in its ability to suspend time: in this work, this rule fully applies. Cohen at seventy delivers a pearl of wisdom and musical class hard to overlook without batting an eyelash. The record flows impeccably, almost as if there was no wrinkle in it, without any edge. They are simply short and whispered stories, warm and refined atmospheres, a certain something of lulling and reassuring quality.

Yes, precisely Cohen, the tormented and slightly decadent poet, in this album manifests a serenity and balance of spirit that at seventy lets see a sort of serene and calm arrival of his own existence at the end of a tortuous and difficult journey. A different musical form than the singer-songwriter who inspired many artists (including our De André), yet still with an unattainable class and touch. A work definitely above average, I would say very above average.