Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, they do. In the middle of all the personal and political difficulty comes the news that Canadian poet, songwriter, and singer Leonard Cohen has left this plane at the age of 82.
He’s one of those cult figures, an acquired taste if you will. Cohen made the kind of music that other musicians listened to. He is best known in the United States for his very nearly perfect song “Hallelujah,” which was covered to perfection by the late great Jeff Buckley. (It’s also been covered by a lot of other people, so many that there’s a book about all the iterations of this one song. I’m also especially fond of k.d. lang’s version.)
He was a cynical romantic. He wanted to believe in all the fairy tales but experience taught him to know better. He was dark, but the way a smoke-filled bar is dark: there was always a neon light in the window selling beer and sputtering candles on the tables to light your way, after all. It seems weirdly appropriate that his voice is suddenly gone at a time when it was suddenly the truest voice in the room. We’ll just have to find our own way out of this crappy dive bar we’re suddenly living in.