But like a refugee

Every heart - every heart to love will come
But like a refugee.
~ Leonard Cohen, "Anthem"

Other than a very brief intermission, Leonard Cohen and his Unified Heart Touring Company performed for more than three hours: it was 11:15 when we struggled and we staggered down the snakes and up the ladders, to the exit. And while various numbers showcased the incredible talents of all the musicians, this 75-year-old man – who skipped, waltzed, knelt and prowled about the stage with the grace and limberness of someone half his age – sang every song but one. Sharon Robinson, co-composer and singer of Ten New Songs, sang “Boogie Street” solo … except that Cohen was visibly singing along with every word, unmiked.

 

Yeah, he can still sing. I think his voice has gotten even DEEPER, which is hard to imagine and astounding to hear. I swear he made my tummy rumble with some of the low-register vibrations. I actually prefer his old-man voice to the younger version: on early recordings he sounds too glib. The gravel provides a timbre of resignation and despair that gives an extra twist of the knife to his verbal thrusts. When I first heard him sing, “I was born with the gift of a golden voice,” I thought it was a bit of self-mockery, but not anymore. Not only are his vocal chords surprisingly agile and resonant, but his poetry itself is an eloquent voice. (That line got a hoot-and-holler cheer from the audience.)

 

The audience was very engaged, and very vocal. We greeted L. Cohen with a standing ovation at the start, and repeated it several times throughout the evening. “Woo hoos,” cheers and whistles were not uncommon. This was a celebration of Cohen’s music, not the lamentation I had feared; and although I tapped into that spiritual spring periodically – rapt and worshipful and deeply moved – the mood was very upbeat. Thanking us for the warm welcome, Cohen said, “I don’t know when we’ll pass this way again, but tonight we’re going to give you all we’ve got.” They did, and their enjoyment was infectious.

 

(The old man in front of us SANG ALOUD with the refrains on “Suzanne.” We were aghast, and I wish he hadn’t done it, but it just goes to show you how much the audience was into it.)

 

Hats

I didn’t get the memo that Hats Will Be Worn, but lots of people did. Mostly fedoras, with a few variations, in the audience. The whole band wore hats (except the drummer, now that I think about it), and it was mostly hard to see Cohen’s face under the shadow of his fedora.

 

From the souvenir program:

He’s bent before us, crouching, trying to squeeze out every ounce of blood, and he’s looking into the wings to summon a fury, a devotion, a power most of us would not have words for. An innocent in the audience might wonder what this courtly coyote is trying to sell us … Then she may notice that the singer is looking at the ground, as if admitting us to his private cell. He has no designs on us at all.

I was glad I had read this beforehand, so I was better prepared to see him on his knees, singing to Javier Mas’ guitar or to the footlights, head bowed, keeping his soul private even while opening it up to the world. Hiding behind hat and microphone.

 

Set List

I worked really hard at remembering the set list through the first half, and wrote it quite legibly on a scrap of paper at intermission. Second half did not work out so well – I scribbled over top of my own scribbling, and ran out of room when the THIRD half began … Yeah, the encores were an entire third set. Anyway, I’ve been able to decipher it all, and the set list is here. (Man. Now that I look at it, I hate it: it just doesn’t convey to you the thrill as each song began, the familiar chord changes washing over us, conjuring the ghosts of the heart.)

 

They did a number of fun things that made us laugh – not exactly comical, but light-hearted acknowledgment of the performer-audience relationship.

 

The Future: Bassist/musical director Roscoe Beck was spotlighted with a little two-step when Cohen sang, “And a white man dancing.” Then, right after “You see your woman hanging upside down,” the Webb Sisters (backup vocals) abandoned their hats and jackets to do a graceful double cartwheel into the wings. (Just before intermission, when Cohen introduced the band, he identified them as “backup vocals and gymnastics.”)

Ain’t No Cure for Love: “I even heard the angels declare it from above” … pause … and the three female vocalists did a heavenly arpeggio, before resolving the chorus.

Hallelujah: “I didn’t come all the way to St. Louis to fool ya.”

I’m Your Man: “And if you want another kind of love, I’ll wear an old man’s mask for you” (removing his hat and letting us see his face).

We had wondered beforehand whether he would have to recite, rather than sing (and that would have been fine). He didn’t HAVE to, but he did include some recitations that were chilling.

• There was a lead-in verse to “Anthem” that was unfamiliar to me, and made my eyes sting as it segued into “There is a crack, a crack in everything – that’s how the light gets in,” and thence to the musical arrangement.
• “A Thousand Kisses Deep” was a recitation of verses that do not appear on the musical recording, but are printed in Book of Longing. A sample:

But you don’t need to hear me now

And every word I speak

It counts against me anyhow

A thousand kisses deep.

And then there was “If It Be Your Will” – the fourth encore. Ay, ay, ay, ay … I have to set this up for you. We didn’t KNOW there were going to be six freakin’ encores, right? And we’d just heard “Famous Blue Raincoat,” the third encore, which seemed final – as final as the grave – when he signed off with “Sincerely, L. Cohen.” *choking up at the memory* But he took up the microphone again and recited the opening of “If It Be Your Will,” up to the point where he said, “If it be your will to let me sing …” (cascading cheers from audience)

 

That's when the Webb Sisters (backup vocals and gymnastics) took over, in vocal harmony, accompanied by harp. Please, watch this clip. If it be your will.

 

 

 

Comments

[no one you know]

man, oh man, oh man, oh man. I wish I could have been there too, but reading this was the next best thing.

Thank you, thank you, thank you!

[no one you know]

*runs to see if Cohen is playing near Minneapolis anytime soon*