![]() ![]() Black people were denied decent jobs and homes, but there was no question that high school dances would be themed “Always and Forever” and culminate in “Brick House” and “Flashlight.” At college, surrounded by northern suburbanites’ awkward skanking to babyish punk rock, I realized that I had been inadvertently blessed. A basic tenet of its all-pervasive racism was that white people couldn’t do music. Tidewater, Virginia, was not that milieu. There existed milieus where Cohen’s music was inescapable, such as kibbutzim and the GDR. The third rocketed me, on my return to William & Mary, straight to the town record store, where the cashier sold me Songs of Leonard Cohen with a money-back guarantee on the condition that I listen to it ten times before complaining. ![]() The second, its melodic charms notwithstanding, featured the line “They say I’m harder than … a marble shaft,” leading me to believe, until just now when I finally looked him up, that Jorma Kaukonen was born in Finland and never really learned English. There three men taught me to play three songs on guitar: “Babe I’m Gonna Leave You,” “Genesis,” and “Suzanne.” The first left me cold. ![]() In December 1981, I visited my older brother at the University of Michigan. To mark the appearance of Leonard Cohen’s “ Begin Again” in our Summer issue, we’re p ublishing a series of short reflections on his life and work. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |