christopher cocca

Tons of hits from these search terms lately:

“Saddest 90’s songs”

“Chuck Palahniuk Amy Hempel”

“Leonard Cohen”

“Religious Ontologies” (the only one I’m really sick of at the moment).

The other night I had a dream that I went to a church and Leonard Cohen was the pastor.  Instead of a sermon, he sang “Suzanne” and some people starting singing along and I sang along and got some of the words wrong but getting everything right wasn’t the point.   He looked about 50, like when “Hallelujah” came out.   And he wore a green suit with a white shirt and green tie. It occurs to me that this dream has a lot to do with the posts here on sustainability (“church in the green”), and that this dream is a working out of what I mean about art not being a means to some didactic, narrated end; about worship or fellowship or reflection or whatever not being a group of people listening to one person talk about something (or many things) for 20 minutes; about the kairos of art and the being of community.  I suppose it’s a feel more than anything.  I’d like to explain it more, but also, I’d like not to.  I would, though, like to dream it again.  

“Prayer for Messiah” by Leonard Cohen

The imagery in this song is perfect.  I just got The Essential Leonard Cohen.   Video posted below.

The Stranger Song (by Leonard Cohen)

It’s true that all the men you knew were dealers
who said they were through with dealing
Every time you gave them shelter
I know that kind of man
It’s hard to hold the hand of anyone
who is reaching for the sky just to surrender.
And then sweeping up the jokers that he left behind
you find he did not leave you very much
not even laughter
Like any dealer he was watching for the card
that is so high and wild
he’ll never need to deal another
He was just some Joseph looking for a manger
He was just some Joseph looking for a manger.
And then leaning on your window sill
he’ll say one day you caused his will
to weaken with your love and warmth and shelter
And then taking from his wallet
an old schedule of trains, he’ll say
I told you when I came I was a stranger
I told you when I came I was a stranger.
But now another stranger seems to want you to ignore his dreams
as though they were the burden of some other
O you’ve seen that man before
his golden arm dispatching cards
but now it’s rusted from the elbow to the finger
And he wants to trade the game he plays for shelter
Yes he wants to trade the game he knows for shelter.
You hate to watch another tired man
lay down his hand
like he was giving up the holy game of poker
And while he talks his dreams to sleep
you notice there’s a highway
that is curling up like smoke above his shoulder
It’s curling up like smoke above his shoulder.
You tell him to come in sit down
but something makes you turn around
The door is open you can’t close you shelter
You try the handle of the road
It opens do not be afraid
It’s you my love, you who are the stranger
It is you my love, you who are the stranger.
Well, I’ve been waiting, I was sure
we’d meet between the trains we’re waiting for
I think it’s time to board another
Please understand, I never had a secret chart
to get me to the heart of this
or any other matter
Well he talks like this
you don’t know what he’s after
When he speaks like this,
you don’t know what he’s after.
Let’s meet tomorrow if you chose
upon the shore, beneath the bridge
that they are building on some endless river
Then he leaves the platform
for the sleeping car that’s warm
You realize, he’s only advertising one more shelter
And it comes to you, he never was a stranger
And you say ok the bridge or someplace later.
And then sweeping up the jokers
that he left behind
you find he did not leave you very much
not even laughter
Like any dealer he was watching for the card
that is so high and wild
he’ll never need to deal another
He was just some Joseph looking for a manger
He was just some Joseph looking for a manger.
And leaning on your window sill
he’ll say one day you caused his will
to weaken with your love and warmth and shelter
And then taking from his wallet
an old schedule of trains
he’ll say I told you when I came I was a stranger
I told you when I came I was a stranger. 

In honor of “Hallelujah” reaching 1, 2, and 36 at the same time on the UK singles charts this week, I’m considering my favorite versions of what is probably my favorite song.   This list isn’t exhaustive, and it’s based on versions available on the web. On a personal note (well, these are all personal notes), my friend Andrew is a fantastic violinist and singer.   Check out his live take and click the links for amazing renderings of  Sufjan Stevens’ “Vito’s Ordination Song” and Coldplay’s “Viva La Vida” (just Andrew, the violin, and the loop pedal on those two..seriously, you need to check them out).  

Top Six Hallelujahs:

Number 6:  MSU’s Accafellas.

Just watch it.  There are days when this is much closer to the top of the list.  It’s so good.  

Number 5:  Rufus Wainwright.

This is a great piano-based take.  It’s the one from Shrek. 

Number 4:  John Cale.

Cale was the first person to re-imagine this song toward what would become its most famous interpretation.  Cale’s version is just a little fast and manic for some, but the passion is awesome and the melody inspired Jeff Buckley’s similar (but very basic by comparison) cover a few years later as well as more literal (though still stripped) versions by Wainright (see above) and Allison Crowe (see below). You can feel how much Cale cares about this song and he did very right by it.  If you’re used to the slimmer arrangements the strings here might offend, but upon repeated listen this take really stands as its own cohesive whole. I give him the edge over Rufus in part because he means it so damn much.  There’s no detached hipness here.  As I’ll explain further below, I think a lot of it has to do with age.   I also love the sparse, picked string part starting around 2 minutes.  

Number 3:  Allison Crowe.

I’m not going to lie.  I get a little crush every time I hear this.   The interpretation owes a lot to Cale, but Crowe has this voice…I also like that she doesn’t change “Holy Ghost” to “holy dark” or “holy dove” as some other versions do. 

Number 2:  Jeff Buckley.

It’s too evocative for me to say much about.  You just get it.  It’s young and tentative and frail but also strong and sometimes committed.  It’s your 20s.  Jeff Buckley drowned to death a few years later.  He was 30.   Jeff said this song was an ode to sex, but it’s also a dirge and a prayer and many other things.  

Number 1:  The Original. 

Cohen’s gravity and the choral lifts make this so unnerving and raw.  Even the synth works.  The fact that he’s middle-aged here adds something to the song’s power:  it’s not plaintive and delicate or tragic beyond resolution, but it is vulnerable, and it’s vulnerable in way that’s sly and authentic.  Sort of like David.  Sort of like Cash.  Sort of like Cohen.  He’s too young for this to be lion-in-winter, but he’s too old for it to be only be about heartache or sex. There’s a depth of knowing here, and there’s power.  I still get chills at a very specific point in this video. 

Mr. Cohen, thank you.

If you’ve read this blog more than once you know of my abiding respect for and appreciation of Leonard Cohen.   His classic “Hallelujah” (which we often incorporate into the liturgy of the emergent community I’m part of) is this very instant both the #1 and #2 song on the UK Christmas singles chart.  I was just checking out Damien Rice’s version of the song (which he name-checks in his own brilliant song “Delicate”) last night, and I saw this link a few minutes ago and got very excited: “Hallelujah!  Cohen classic dominates British music charts.”   

The story behind this story is that a top-selling version of the song by talent-show winner Alexandra Burke looked set to be named this year’s top UK Christmas single (a big deal there), and fans started a grass roots campaign to make Jeff Buckley’s transcendent 1994 cover #1 instead.   Cohen’s own version (actually my favorite) hit the charts at 36 — 24 years after its first release.   Great work, sir.  Great work. 

I’m finally reading Leonard Cohen’s 1966 novel Beautiful Losers.  So far, it’s exquisite.  Yeah, parts here and there are overwritten or a little too winky, but it was the 60s.  Some of what’s become hackneyed since then wasn’t.  You know you’re into a book (and into the writer) when you make editorial comments about style or unnecessary parenthetical asides as field notes for your own work.

What strikes me about the book is how natural Cohen is as author.   A few affected indiscretions aside, this is very organic work and the best parts seem effortless.  I’m not very far through it, but I’m far enough to know how much I’m going to like it (a lot), and to see Cohen anticipate “transgressive literature” and connect the dots to current forms. 

As a non-Canadian, I hadn’t heard of this book until after I got into Cohen’s songwriting and poetry.  Wikipedia says Beautiful Losers is considered a Canadian classic.  I wonder if it’s ubiquitous like On The Road is here.

Have you read it?  What did you think?  I expect spoilers to follow.  Are you looking forward to the movie?

On a related note, my first novel, DREGS, sits now in the hands of a supremely able editor who will be helping me get it ready for a new round of submission.  I’ve had some very promising and detailed feedback from some great agents and am looking forward to the next editing phase.  In the meantime, I’ve decided to cut some tension by focusing on a new medium.  I’ve started writing comic book/graphic novel scripts and it’s unleashed new creativity.  I’m not abandoning microfiction (or in the case of the novel, episodic fiction) by any means, but there’s a lot we can all learn about storytelling, plot and voice from writers like Alan Moore and Neil Gaiman (not a exclusively comic book writer, but still).

Oh, I also just got Leonard Cohen’s “Beautiful Losers” and “Let Us Compare Mythologies” in the mail.  Am looking forward to those.

This reminds me of Paul Simon and Bob Dylan if they were the same person.

I know I’m being a total fanboy lately, but for real. “I told you when I came I was a stranger…”

REM does not sing “Mad World.” Gary Jules does. Nice. And it’s a Tears for Fears cover?

Was listening to XPN tonight and they were streaming some indie band who said “we promised to learn a song by the beautiful Leonard Cohen for tonight. But then we didn’t.” Is LC the most respected cat from the last 40 years or what? Just last night a friend emailed me and said “I actually don’t listen to all that much Leonard Cohen (interpretation, I don’t listen to leonard cohen but I don’t want to sound uncool by saying so straight out.”) I told her to keep lying until it’s not a lie anymore.