If you want a boxer
I will step into the ring for you
And if you want a doctor
I’ll examine every inch of you
If you want a driver
Climb inside
Or if you want to take me for a ride
You know you can
I’m your man
– L Cohen
When you
hum a song, often it doesn’t start at the beginning. It starts sometimes from
the chorus, sometimes, it starts at the end. ‘I’m your man’ was the first
Leonard Cohen album I heard. It was his eighth studio album, released in 1988.
I had not heard Suzanne yet, I hadn’t heard anything of Cohen yet. And then I
heard and saw the ‘I’m your man’ cassette. Cohen on the cover, eating a banana,
he was in B&W, and in spite of his friendship with Andy Warhol, the banana
too was in B&W.
For me, the
song starts with, “If you want a boxer” (even though it doesn’t), and Cohen
starts with ‘I’m your man’. An old man with a banana then. And now when I look
back, a cool guy who could pull off a banana in his hand on the cover, peeling
away at life, at himself, at sounds, keyboards, full on, none of the light
strum here – Jazz Police, First we take Manhattan then we take Berlin, Tower of
song. A man’s musical life right there,
spelt out to a new sound.
Those years
I used to scrounge for sounds like a starving man for a half-eaten rotten banana
in a bin. I was still in school but the sounds of the 60s and 70s were knocking
at my door. My source: older acquaintances and friends with older siblings,
schooled in sound, and more importantly, in possession of sound. An empty TDK
tape got me Led Zeppellin IV via Kaushal, a visit to next-door Kartik got me to
meet Cohen, via his big sis. I learnt then that next-door Roop learnt to play
the guitar listening to Cohen.
Here’s a
little something for Sincerely L Cohen (as a few of us refer to him)
Thank you
for your words
Thank you
for your words
I would’ve
liked to see you kneel down
In your
blacker than black suit
See you serenade
me with your darker than dark words
So I could
thank you
Thank you
for your words
In person,
underneath the glint of your eye
In person,
underneath the glitter of your gold tooth,
even if
there wasn’t one
Just the
other night I drew my small silver chair
And sat
alongside you
I plugged
you in
I gave me
life
I plugged
you in
I gave me
death
I plugged
you in
I gave you
goodbye
You gave me
something darker
There you
were
In Black
& White
There you
were
In darker
than dark
There you
were
In your
blacker than black suit
And the
girls from Greece
And their
voices all sprinkled
All over
you
And the
girls from Greece
Their voices
all sprinkled
All over me
Oh, you
sure knew how to keep
Your Zorba
happy
You sure
knew
You said
you was ready to die
You said
with a hint of sly
You intend
to live forever
You just
did
In the
blink of an eye
You just
did
There’s
some cricket playing
And Pujara’s
batting too
But what
the hell
I just can’t
get my mind off you
I don’t
think I’m sad
I’m feeling foggy
To be
writing about you
Like I did,
every time I snuck in a bit of you
Into the
cricket I wrote.
Back in
1988, not yet 54, Cohen wrote, ‘Tower of song’. He sure sounded like he’d lived
his life then.
Yeah my friends are gone and my
hair is gray
I ache in the places where I used to play
And I'm crazy for love but I'm not coming on
I'm just paying my rent every day
Oh in the Tower of Song
I ache in the places where I used to play
And I'm crazy for love but I'm not coming on
I'm just paying my rent every day
Oh in the Tower of Song
-
L Cohen
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