Album: I'm Your Man
Artist: Leonard Cohen
Artist: Leonard Cohen
Born: Montréal, Québec
Released: February 1988
Genre: Synth Folk
Influenced: Pixies, Tom Waits, Mark Lanegan, Lambchop, Tindersticks, St Vincent
More than 20 years after he first came to fame, and six years before he would retreat to a Zen Buddhist monastery, Cohen released one of his best and most original albums, I'm Your Man. The opening synth line on First We Take Manhattan, which evolves into something close to an excerpt from the Blade Runner soundtrack, showed that he was willing to move with the musical times. As ever though, the most important element of Cohen's songs are the lyrics, and I'm Your Man includes some of his finest songwriting. When the album was greeted with both critical and commercial success, nobody was more surprised than his label Columbia. His previous album, Various Positions (which includes his most famous song, Hallelujah), was not considered "contemporary" enough, so Cohen put more emphasis on drum machines and synths for I'm Your Man, although they're never used here as much more than window dressing. Many of my favourite Cohen songs have a sense of mystery, and First We Take Manhattan is especially cryptic, sung with the passionate zeal of a terrorist seeking geopolitical gain, but to me it sounds more like a man rediscovering his artistic purpose. Even though the line about the "monkey and the plywood violin" hints at the insanity of someone seeking world domination, as an announcement of a return to form, few if any songs surpass it.
Side 1 doesn't miss a beat, with Ain't No Cure For Love one of many Cohen songs that explore the inner workings of the heart ("the holy books are open wide / the doctors working day and night / but they'll never ever find that cure"), this time sounding like a gospel revivalist. Everybody Knows is one of Cohen's masterpieces, as he surveys the wreckage of the sexual revolution in the wake of the AIDS crisis, as well as singing with resignation about the lack of social progress ("the poor stay poor / the rich get rich", "Old Black Joe's still picking cotton"). The title track is lyrically sublime, an insight into Cohen as ladies' man (he attracted many women over the years, from Joni Mitchell to Rebecca de Mornay), willing to adapt and make outrageous promises to win a woman's heart. Cohen, like no other songwriter, manages to fuse the erotic with the spiritual. Side 2 isn't so consistently brilliant, with Jazz Police sounding particularly dated, the excessive 80s production getting in the way of a song railing against the music industry. I Can't Forget is Cohen channelling the spirit of country stars like Johnny Cash, as he sings of a dying love affair ("the summer's almost gone / the winter's tuning up"), but the two highlights are Take This Waltz and Tower Of Song. The first is a tribute to one of Cohen's poetic heroes, Federico García Lorca, who personally introduced Cohen to the sorrow and romance of flamenco music and Spanish politics. Tower Of Song is proof, if any were needed, of the humour in Cohen's songs ("I was born with the gift of the golden voice"), as he sings with the velvety backing of Jennifer Warnes about his debt to Hank Williams, social inequality ("the rich have got their channels in the bedrooms of the poor") and growing old ("I ache in the places where I used to play"). Sublime.
More than 20 years after he first came to fame, and six years before he would retreat to a Zen Buddhist monastery, Cohen released one of his best and most original albums, I'm Your Man. The opening synth line on First We Take Manhattan, which evolves into something close to an excerpt from the Blade Runner soundtrack, showed that he was willing to move with the musical times. As ever though, the most important element of Cohen's songs are the lyrics, and I'm Your Man includes some of his finest songwriting. When the album was greeted with both critical and commercial success, nobody was more surprised than his label Columbia. His previous album, Various Positions (which includes his most famous song, Hallelujah), was not considered "contemporary" enough, so Cohen put more emphasis on drum machines and synths for I'm Your Man, although they're never used here as much more than window dressing. Many of my favourite Cohen songs have a sense of mystery, and First We Take Manhattan is especially cryptic, sung with the passionate zeal of a terrorist seeking geopolitical gain, but to me it sounds more like a man rediscovering his artistic purpose. Even though the line about the "monkey and the plywood violin" hints at the insanity of someone seeking world domination, as an announcement of a return to form, few if any songs surpass it.
Side 1 doesn't miss a beat, with Ain't No Cure For Love one of many Cohen songs that explore the inner workings of the heart ("the holy books are open wide / the doctors working day and night / but they'll never ever find that cure"), this time sounding like a gospel revivalist. Everybody Knows is one of Cohen's masterpieces, as he surveys the wreckage of the sexual revolution in the wake of the AIDS crisis, as well as singing with resignation about the lack of social progress ("the poor stay poor / the rich get rich", "Old Black Joe's still picking cotton"). The title track is lyrically sublime, an insight into Cohen as ladies' man (he attracted many women over the years, from Joni Mitchell to Rebecca de Mornay), willing to adapt and make outrageous promises to win a woman's heart. Cohen, like no other songwriter, manages to fuse the erotic with the spiritual. Side 2 isn't so consistently brilliant, with Jazz Police sounding particularly dated, the excessive 80s production getting in the way of a song railing against the music industry. I Can't Forget is Cohen channelling the spirit of country stars like Johnny Cash, as he sings of a dying love affair ("the summer's almost gone / the winter's tuning up"), but the two highlights are Take This Waltz and Tower Of Song. The first is a tribute to one of Cohen's poetic heroes, Federico García Lorca, who personally introduced Cohen to the sorrow and romance of flamenco music and Spanish politics. Tower Of Song is proof, if any were needed, of the humour in Cohen's songs ("I was born with the gift of the golden voice"), as he sings with the velvety backing of Jennifer Warnes about his debt to Hank Williams, social inequality ("the rich have got their channels in the bedrooms of the poor") and growing old ("I ache in the places where I used to play"). Sublime.
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