We could really use his mordant wisdom now.
I was coming of age during his middle years, but I think like a fine wine his work only got better with age. I think everything from the Dear Heather album forward is even more genius than his early works, if such a thing is possible.
Fare thee well my nightingale
I lived but to be near you
Though you are singing somewhere still
I can no longer hear you
I read the New Yorker article linked to above and so enjoyed it. Part of me did wonder if it was almost a retrospective.
Thank you Leonard.
And yes, 2016 is so, so painful.
Damn.
mmm
On a lighter note, the first thing I thought of was Neil in The Young Ones:
I won’t say anything because no one ever listens to me anyway. I might as well be a Leonard Cohen record.
He’s gonna get us and turn us all into vampires! And we’ll all be dead and yet still alive! Like Leonard Cohen!
I was listening to some tunes last night and put on Jeff Buckley’s version of Hallelujah. A great song, but not one I would typically have in my rotation. I wake up and read the news, and <cue Twilight Zone music>.
This one hurts. I’ve got a playlist of Leonard’s songs on Spotify … about 3 hours long. Listening to that gravelly voice.
*Going home
Without my sorrow
Going home
Sometime tomorrow
Going home
To where it’s better
Than before
Going home
Without my burden
Going home
Behind the curtain
Going home
Without the costume
That I wore*
We’ve lost a prophet as well as a poet.
RIP, Jikan Eliezer.
My parents enjoyed him – on a lighter note, my Mom used to think to herself, “Please don’t let the kids ask, ‘what does he mean, “don’t go home with your hard on”?’”
Hallelujah was a song that transcended human abilities. How could one person have written it?
I got into Leonard Cohen early in his career, and followed him straight to the end. A fine artist that will be missed.
And yes, I cried when I heard of his death.
*I dreamed about you, baby.
It was just the other night.
Most of you was naked
Ah but some of you was light.
The sands of time were falling
from your fingers and your thumb,
and you were waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come *
I discovered him through this song, on the Natural Born Killers soundtrack of all places.
Here’s a 3-hour video from his final tour. The man still had it, in his late 70s. RIP, Mr. Cohen.
Given the date it is only fitting to hear the man recite In Flanders Fields.
Worst three days on record! CBC has been wall-to-wall Leonard Cohen all day. RIP, Leonard.
When Dylan won the Nobel, I wondered if they could have awarded it jointly.
This was buried among all the political news. At least he didn’t live to see Trump elected.
RIP, Leonard. 
Death of a ladies’ man.
He’ll be missed.
Thinking about Leonard Cohen again today, and listening to his remarkable final album. We needed him more than ever now; losing him is such a blow.