By: David Schultz

In 2008, Leonard Cohen became one the more unlikely inductees into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. For all the praise that can be lauded upon the vaunted Canadian singer-songwriter for his evocative lyrics, inimitable style and singularly identifiable voice, Cohen really doesn’t rock. He does write fantastic songs though and once you hear him sing, his voice, spiritual mien and impeccable sense of songcraft remain with you. Cohen’s musical output over the last decade and a half has been scarce but with directors like Oliver Stone including his songs at critical moments in their films and Jeff Buckley’s version of “Hallelujah” eternally making new converts, he’s never drifted far from the collective unconscious of cerebral thinkers.

Earlier this year, Cohen played his first American concert in fifteen years, selling out the Beacon Theater in New York City. After returning for two more sold out nights at Radio City Music Hall this past May, a sellout of Madison Square Garden this past Friday night seemed like nothing more than foregone conclusion. If Cohen’s longtime manager’s embezzlement of Cohen’s retirement funds has played any role in Cohen’s recent desire to tour after a lengthy absence, we can condemn the motivation but revel in his return.

At 75 years of age, Cohen’s preternaturally deep voice sounds as warm and comforting as it did in his prime. Dropping to his knees in a penitent pose for the start of nearly every song, Cohen mesmerized the Garden with his neo-romantic visions, bohemian patois and oh so calm and reassuring voice for nearly three hours. Over two sets and three encores Cohen left no one wanting, playing a veritable greatest hits show that included early hits like “So Long, Marianne,” “Bird On A Wire” and “Famous Blue Raincoat,” his tender reminiscence of a night with Janis Joplin, “Chelsea Hotel No. 2,” confident declarations of masculinity like “I’m Your Man” and latter day apocalyptic prophecies like “The Future.” Notwithstanding jawdropping versions of “Suzanne,” the locale-appropriate “First We Take Manhattan” and his various takes on flamenco and European melodies, Cohen’s best moments were on “Anthem” and “Hallelujah.” A spiritual soul, Cohen’s passionate delivery evokes a powerful emotional response, shaming all inferior singers who feel theatrics and multi-octave ranges are a substitute for the true ability to convey the beauty of a song.

You might think that a crowd that skews old would diminish the feel of the show; a decidedly less rambunctious crowd couldn’t possible generate the proper atmosphere for a Friday night at Madison Square Garden. Never underestimate the power of a well-mannered audience. It has its time and place. For one night, MSG took on all the qualities of an intimate Broadway show. While Cohen sang, he didn’t battle banal self-involved chatter. When he spoke, nary a peep could be heard from the crowd who hung on every sepia-toned word that dripped from his lips. Once intermission finished, the concession stands, which were doing abysmal business, simply shut down. No one in that audience had an interest in anything but Leonard Cohen.

Labels: Leonard Cohen