Leonard Cohen at the Long Center
During his Songs Of Love And Hate, “Bard Of Bedsits” era, the notion that Leonard Cohen would one day hold court over his own Las Vegas-style revue would have seemed laughable, as likely a fate as Tony Orlando sitting in with The Velvet Underground. But Cohen has come a long way since then, transforming himself from a dour folk Sartre into the Dapper Don of Doom—less moping and more mordant wit, in keeping with our increasingly cynical times—and so it goes with Cohen’s current tour, his first in 15 years. While it hardly approaches Cher or Celine Dion levels of self-indulgence, there’s a definite sense of well-oiled machinery at play: If you’ve read the reviews or listened to the bootlegs of Cohen’s New York kick-off at Beacon Theatre, you already know what you’re in store for, right down to Cohen’s stage outfit and between-song patter (which, unlike his suit, is apparently not custom-tailored).
Of course, such lack of spontaneity isn’t unexpected (the man is 74, after all), and most fans will no doubt be reassured to know that he’s committed to bringing the same stellar experience to every city on his itinerary. And make no mistake: Cohen’s kick-off of his two-night stand at the Long Center—which doubled as the opening night of his tour—was sublimely crafted, with goosebump-inducing emotional highs that somehow never plateaued despite its near three-hour running time. With a set list numbering around 30 songs and encompassing dozens of favorites from one of the most consistent careers in music, Cohen would have had to work awfully hard to disappoint—and as we’ve already established, Laughin’ Len isn’t so into the “bumming you out” thing these days.
In fact, Cohen seemed downright giddy at times, actually skipping on and off the stage at various points, and even throwing a few cautious (did we mention he’s 74?) shuffles into “The Future.” He spent much of the performance down on one knee—which lent the romantic entreaties of opener “Dance Me To The End Of Love” the appropriate hint of dramatic irony—subservient to the power of his own song. When the moments were especially big, as in the chorus of “Hallelujah,” Cohen cast an overwhelmed, beatific gaze at the balcony, but for the most part he was physically inscrutable: shoulders drawn, eyes cast down behind the brim of his fedora, and hands clasped around the microphone as though it and not he were channeling that gruff and godly voice, a casket-aged croon that oozes seduction even when it’s rumbling about the end of the world.
Cohen presided over a small band of handpicked international musicians that included longtime arranger and Austin’s own Roscoe Beck, the man we have to thank for bringing Cohen here in the first place; vocalist and collaborator Sharon Robinson (co-writer of songs like “Everybody Knows” and “Waiting For The Miracle), who redeemed the Seagram’s ad smooth jazz of “Boogie Street” with a smoky solo turn; and backing vocalists The Webb Sisters, who got their own spotlight with a harp-driven, spine-chilling take on “If It Be Your Will” somewhere around the two-hour mark. At times the arrangements bordered on ostentatious, with far too many saxophone licks and Spanish guitar runs crammed in at every turn, but even these mirrored the strange dichotomy of Cohen’s persona—a hint of heart-on-sleeve ranchera singer here, a touch of coldly detached emcee of the Apocalypse there.
Highlights were many, including a stirring rendition of “Anthem” that conjured church bells where there were none, a wry take on “Chelsea Hotel” that hammered home the brush-off of its final line, a pulse-pounding run through "First We Take Manhattan," and a stark, gut-wrenching “Famous Blue Raincoat” that proved that Cohen still has considerable guitar skills. Throughout it all, Cohen played the gracious host, doffing his hat and beaming after every song as he bowed to the audience, frequently thanking them for being “so kind.” He needn’t have been so humble: The elephant in the room was that each song could and would probably be the last time the crowd would hear Cohen perform it live, which made it difficult to let him go. When the fourth (!) encore came around, Cohen deadpanned the opening line of “I Tried To Leave You” to knowing laughter; when the show ended with an a cappella rendition of “Whither Thou Goest”—preceded by a spoken-word benediction that found Cohen wishing that everyone would “find comfort in family and friends,” and failing that, “blessings in your solitude”—it had taken on the ring of religious ceremony. If only every church service were this emotionally fulfilling, maybe there wouldn’t be so damn many atheists. (But then, who would buy Leonard Cohen albums?)
Set list:
"Dance Me To The End Of Love"
"The Future"
"There Ain't No Cure For Love"
"Bird On A Wire"
"Everybody Knows"
"In My Secret Life"
"Who By Fire"
"Chelsea Hotel"
"Hey, That's No Way To Say Goodbye"
"Anthem"
(Intermission)
"Dance Me To The End Of Love"
"The Future"
"There Ain't No Cure For Love"
"Bird On A Wire"
"Everybody Knows"
"In My Secret Life"
"Who By Fire"
"Chelsea Hotel"
"Hey, That's No Way To Say Goodbye"
"Anthem"
(Intermission)
"Tower Of Song"
"Suzanne"
"The Gypsy's Wife"
"The Partisan"
"Boogie Street"
"Hallelujah"
"I'm Your Man"
"A Thousand Kisses Deep"
"Take This Waltz"
"Suzanne"
"The Gypsy's Wife"
"The Partisan"
"Boogie Street"
"Hallelujah"
"I'm Your Man"
"A Thousand Kisses Deep"
"Take This Waltz"
First encore:
"So Long, Marianne"
"First We Take Manhattan"
Second encore:
"Famous Blue Raincoat"
"If It Be Your Will"
"Democracy"
Third encore:
"Lullaby" (new song)
"Closing Time"
Fourth encore:
"I Tried To Leave You"
"Whither Thou Goest"
"So Long, Marianne"
"First We Take Manhattan"
Second encore:
"Famous Blue Raincoat"
"If It Be Your Will"
"Democracy"
Third encore:
"Lullaby" (new song)
"Closing Time"
Fourth encore:
"I Tried To Leave You"
"Whither Thou Goest"
