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When in 1967 SOLC appeared on the American market, its 33-year-old author could boast a highly respectable literary output.
Two of the lyrics (Suzanne, The Stranger Song), contained in his first musical work, were already known to his fans because they were part of the latest poetry collection released. His two novels, “The Favorite Game” and ”Beautiful Losers”, would also make a significant impact on the press across half of America.
Leonard Cohen was born in Montreal, the Jerusalem of the North, in 1934. Of European Jewish origin, his family actively participated in creating a multicultural intelligentsia in the French-speaking town. This particular family and intellectual condition instantly proves to be so influential that it overshadows the myth of the poet with a guitar on his shoulder.
It impressively carves out indelible scars on the skin of his poetry. By his own admission, God, sex, mythology, and spirituality are the themes of his lyrics.
On the other hand, his atavistic sensibility, apolitical and asocial, enriches itself with an important myth in the Jewish tradition, that of the “wandering Jew,” which undeniably projects itself along part of his human journey, giving an enchanting bohemian dimension to this solitary artist. This ‘mythical’ mobility converges with another kind of mobility, that belonging to the more traditional folk attitude:
‘To write books, one needs a place to reside permanently. (...) I decided to change course to become... a singer-songwriter.’ And again ‘The “real” songs pass from mouth to mouth without anything able to stop them. This is the nature of a song: to move incessantly...’
Cohen would therefore compose while paying close attention to the oral, transmissive possibilities inherent in ‘light’ music and thus choose a conversational and easily communicable storytelling format for himself.
I think he succeeded, how many guitars at this very moment linger over the arpeggio of Suzanne?
A singer-songwriter, then, who liked to think of himself as an author, yes popular, yet so authentically aristocratic that he put the distance of a thoroughly European spleen between himself and the other voices in America.
The opening track is Suzanne. A modern-day Dannunzian Barbara, "She who gives and forgives all," is the figure of a magnetic woman, sung about with a neutral and casual voice. This sensual protagonist fades, or perhaps immerses herself, into the image of a compassionate Jesus, brother to the men who drown.
The accompaniment is a prototype of Cohen's music, an elementary arpeggio inserted into an empty room, while violins and female voices seem to come from the courtyard just below.
The arpeggio of Master Song keeps a less lingering tempo, and the sonic events, rarefied at the beginning, recombine almost mechanically as the seconds pass.
This is music for underwater orchestras, as the sound reaches us muffled.
The third composition, Winter Lady, has the flavor of Donovan's best pieces. It resembles a watercolor painting of a bucolic, snow-covered landscape… one can tell it boasts a flute over which a second guitar overlaps. A piano, as usual locked in a jar, provides a counterpoint. It is one of the few lyrics that seem to be written by a non-professional, overall it is a divertissement for chronic depressives.
The singer-songwriter in the next song instead draws on all his expertise and his suggestive potential and offers us The Stranger Song. For this writer, the most beautiful guitar and voice piece on the LP. Cohen plays the arpeggio in a tight manner, almost in a trance, with metaphors, some of which are biblical, abound. The text undoubtedly betrays its origin independent of any musical accompaniment, thanks to the beauty of the images, the psychological complexity of the protagonist, and the pathos of the story.
Sisters of Mercy is a sweet serenade to the sisters of mercy for accordion, carillons, and guitar. Protectors of melancholy travelers without a destination, it is dedicated to souls that bear the weight of all mankind's sins. It is the perfect apology for all the Dostoevskian characters of the world, absolutely the most moving piece on the album.
Who is Marianne in the sixth song? She is the woman who spent over half a decade with Cohen, on the island of Hydra in Greece. Finally an extremely rhythmic love song, not arpeggiated at all. So Long Marianne, although so autobiographical, defines humble feelings of humble people, transparent in every word, with a dance-like tempo and female choirs on the chorus. Enriched by folk-rock accompaniment, it is the one closest to the records Cohen would create in the following season.
With Hey, That’s No Way To Say Goodbye, we return to the minimalistic atmospheres of the beginning of the record, with an arpeggio that meditates rather than narrates. Here the game becomes a bit more revealing. The verse-refrain is simple and somewhat anonymous, but it gets under your skin and doesn’t let go.
Teachers is a requiem sung with a pleading voice, a lament in which, in the folk-blues tradition, the singer draws doleful and resigned faces, cataloging their poverty and rhetorically wondering who teaches these men’s hearts. Narratively, it is reminiscent of pieces like ‘Oh Sweet Nuthin’’ by Reed and ‘La cattiva strada’ by De Andrè.
We would have liked it as a farewell from the record, but One of Us Cannot Be Wrong sneaks in, perhaps leaving us with a bit of regret, a bittersweet taste on our palate.
Cohen is the singer of silences and empty spaces. Confessor of the outcasts and observer of those invisible personal dramas forgotten by history and politics, of which in fact he will be artistically avulsed throughout his career. More Brel than Dylan, he elevated the narrative of folk to metaphysical meditation.
Tracklist Lyrics and Samples
01 Suzanne (03:48)
Suzanne takes you down to her place near the river.
You can hear the boats go by,
You can spend the night beside her.
And you know she's half crazy,
But that's why you want to be there.
And she feeds you tea and oranges that come all the way from China.
And just when you mean to tell her that you have no love to give her,
Then she gets you on her wavelength
And she lets the river answer
That you've always been her lover.
And you want to travel with her,
And you want to travel blind,
And you know she will trust you,
For you've touched her perfect body with your mind.
And Jesus was a sailor, when he walked upon the water
And he spent a long time watching from his lonely wooden tower.
And when he knew for certain, only drowning men could see him,
He said: "All men will be sailors then, until the sea shall free them."
But he himself was broken
Long before the sky would open,
Foresaken, almost human,
He sank beneath your wisdom, like a stone
And you want to travel with him
And you want to travel blind
And you think maybe you'll trust him
For he's touched your perfect body with his mind.
Now Suzanne takes your hand and she leads you to the river.
She's wearing rags and feathers from Salvation Army counters.
And the sun pours down like honey on our Lady of the Harbor.
And she shows you where to look, among the garbage and the flowers.
There are heros in the seaweed,
There are children in the morning,
They are leaning out for love,
They will lean that way forever,
While Suzanne holds the mirror.
And you want to travel with her,
And you want to travel blind,
And you know you can trust her
For she's touched your perfect body with her mind.
03 Winter Lady (02:16)
Trav'ling lady, stay awhile
until the night is over.
I'm just a station on your way,
I know I'm not your lover.
Well I lived with a child of snow
when I was a soldier,
and I fought every man for her
until the nights grew colder.
She used to wear her hair like you
except when she was sleeping,
and then she'd weave it on a loom
of smoke and gold and breathing.
And why are you so quiet now
standing there in the doorway?
You chose your journey long before
you came upon this highway.
Trav'ling lady stay awhile
until the night is over.
I'm just a station on your way,
I know I'm not your lover.
05 Sisters of Mercy (03:32)
Oh the sisters of mercy
they are not departed or gone,
they were waiting for me
when I thought that I just can't go on
And they brought me their comfort
and later they brought me this song
Oh I hope you run into them
you who've been travelling so long
You who must leave everything
that you cannot control
it begins with your family
but soon it comes round to your soul
well, I've been where you're hanging
I think I can see how you're pinned
When you're not feeling holy
your loneliness tells that you've sinned
They lay down beside me
I made my confession to them
they touched both my eyes
and I touched the dew on their hem
If your life is a leaf
that the seasons tear off and condemn
they will bind you with love
that is graceful and green as a stem
When I left they were sleeping
I hope you run into them soon
don't turn on the light
you can read their address by the moon
and you won't make me jealous
if I heard that they sweetened your night
we weren't lovers like that
and besides it would still be all right
06 So Long, Marianne (05:38)
Come over to the window, my little darling,
I'd like to try to read your palm.
I used to think I was some kind of Gypsy boy
before I let you take me home.
Now so long, Marianne, it's time that we began
to laugh and cry and cry and laugh about it all again.
Well you know that I love to live with you,
but you make me forget so very much.
I forget to pray for the angels
and then the angels forget to pray for us.
Now so long, Marianne, it's time that we began ...
We met when we were almost young
deep in the green lilac park.
You held on to me like I was a crucifix,
as we went kneeling through the dark.
Oh so long, Marianne, it's time that we began ...
Your letters they all say that you're beside me now.
Then why do I feel alone?
I'm standing on a ledge and your fine spider web
is fastening my ankle to a stone.
Now so long, Marianne, it's time that we began ...
For now I need your hidden love.
I'm cold as a new razor blade.
You left when I told you I was curious,
I never said that I was brave.
Oh so long, Marianne, it's time that we began ...
Oh, you are really such a pretty one.
I see you've gone and changed your name again.
And just when I climbed this whole mountainside,
to wash my eyelids in the rain!
Oh so long, Marianne, it's time that we began ...
07 Hey, That's No Way to Say Goodbye (02:55)
I loved you in the morning
Our kisses deep and warm
Your hair upon the pillow
Like a sleepy golden storm.
Yes, many loved before us
I know that we are not new,
In city and in forest
They smiled like me and you,
But now it's come to distances
And both of us must try,
Your eyes are soft with sorrow,
Hey, that's no way to say goodbye.
I'm not looking for another
As I wander in my time,
Walk me to the corner
Our steps will always rhyme,
You know my love goes with you
As your love stays with me,
It's just the way it changes
Like the shoreline and the sea,
But let's not talk of love or chains
And things we can't untie,
Your eyes are soft with sorrow,
Hey, that's no way to say goodbye.
I loved you in the morning
Our kisses deep and warm,
Your hair upon the pillow
Like a sleepy golden storm.
Yes, many loved before us
I know that we are not new,
In city and in forest
They smiled like me and you
But let's not talk of love or chains
And things we can't untie,
Your eyes are soft with sorrow
Hey, that's no way to say goodbye.
09 Teachers (03:01)
I met a woman long ago
her hair the black that black can go,
Are you a teacher of the heart?
Soft she answered no.
I met a girl across the sea,
her hair the gold that gold can be,
Are you a teacher of the heart?
Yes, but not for thee.
I met a man who lost his mind
in some lost place I had to find,
follow me the wise man said,
but he walked behind.
I walked into a hospital
where none was sick and none was well,
when at night the nurses left
I could not walk at all.
Morning came and then came noon,
dinner time a scalpel blade
lay beside my silver spoon.
Some girls wander by mistake
into the mess that scalpels make.
Are you the teachers of my heart?
We teach old hearts to break.
One morning I woke up alone,
the hospital and the nurses gone.
Have I carved enough my Lord?
Child, you are a bone.
I ate and ate and ate,
no I did not miss a plate, well
How much do these suppers cost?
We’ll take it out in hate.
I spent my hatred everyplace,
on every work on every face,
someone gave me wishes
and I wished for an embrace.
Several girls embraced me, then
I was embraced by men,
Is my passion perfect?
No, do it once again.
I was handsome I was strong,
I knew the words of every song.
Did my singing please you?
No, the words you sang were wrong.
Who is it whom I address,
who takes down what I confess?
Are you the teachers of my heart?
We teach old hearts to rest.
Oh teachers are my lessons done?
I cannot do another one.
They laughed and laughed and said, Well child,
are your lessons done?
are your lessons done?
are your lessons done?
Written by Leonard Cohen, Stranger Music Inc. (BMI).
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Other reviews
By janis
Leonard Cohen is a carver of beauties that become true creatures at his touch.
'Suzanne' is a prayer, a love song, a dream, an imprecation.
