Judy Collins "Wildflowers" 1967****

Like most folk singers, Judy Collins started her career as an interpreter of traditional ballads. Pretty soon, though, she differentiated by choosing material by contemporary singer songwriters - starting with a young Bob Dylan in '63, and discovering a not-so-young songwriter called Leonard Cohen in 1966. At the time, the 30-something (practically middle aged, by 60's pop standards) Canadian was somewhat frustrated by his lack of success as a writer, and had just started trying to put his poems to music. He was nevertheless not confident and had never performed publicly before Collins took him under her wing, asking him to appear as a guest at a fundraiser she did, and then at a TV show she starred in. In '66, she included two of his songs in her 6th (and first gold-certified) LP, In My Life. With Cohen's fame as songwriter still not taking off, she decided to include three more of his songs in this follow-up, Wildflowers: here, modern classics "Sisters of Mercy" and "Hey, That's No Way to Say Goodbye" first saw the light of day, months before Cohen included them in his own debut LP. A third composition called "Priests" was never recorded by him. Always on the lookout for fresh talent, Collins decided to promote another unknown Canadian songwriter; this time a young lady called Joni Mitchell. She chose "Michael from Mountains" and "Both Sides Now" - later to appear in Mitchell's debut and her 2nd LP, respectively. Next to the ballads from the two unknown Canadians, she also included two foreign language songs: "La chanson des vieux amants" by French-Belgian Jacques Brel, and "Lasso! di donna" by medieval Florentine composer Francesco Landini. Lastly, she makes the transition from interpreter to songwriter, by including for the fist time three of her own compositions. These are soothing, meditative, pieces in sync with the rest of the album. "Albatross" in particular is quite impressive, from the poetic lyrics to the neo-classical arrangements by Joshua Rifkin, then a talented young Julliard graduate, and later a renowned Bach scholar. To me, the orchestral arrangements in this album are as big a part of its charm as Collins's crystal voice is. Rich, but also light and thoughtful, never bombastic or overtly sentimental as is often the case in pop music. The result is a baroque-pop-folk sound presaging what Renaissance and other prog bands did in the 70's. Of course, the album also includes a bona fide baroque ballad in the excellent "A Ballata of Francesco Landini - Lasso! di donna". Mitchell's "Both Sides Now" is the relatively most upbeat track; it was also released as a single, providing Collins with her first Top 10 as well as her first Grammy award. On the whole, listening to Wildflowers is a soothing experience, albeit not in a muzak way but in a deeper, more meditative, and ultimately satisfying, manner. To me, it is an album to get on CD - the pops and clicks of vinyl can get quite annoying when listening to atmospheric music on your stereo. I actually got this very cheaply, as part of the Original Album Series - a series that collects 5 albums in a small cardboard box - each CD is housed in a simple cardboard sleeve replicating the original vinyl album cover. Prices vary, but usually less than €20. It's a great way to familiarize yourself with the discography of an artist: instead of a single compilation, which is how I usually approach artists I want to get acquainted with, you get 5 original albums for the same price. Later, if one loves what they hear, they can always get it on vinyl.

***** for Sisters of Mercy, Albatross

**** for Since You Asked, A Ballata of Francesco Landini - Lasso! di donna, Both Sides Now, La chanson des vieux amants (The Song of Old Lovers), Hey That's No Way to Say Goodbye

*** for Michael from Mountains, Priests, Sky Fell

Leonard Cohen "I'm Your Man" 1988*****

I've remarked before on the extraordinary amount of important artists we lost in 2016, a year that seems to grow into an Armageddon for popular music. One further huge blow came with the passing of one of our greatest poets/songwriters, Leonard Cohen. At 82, we should have been prepared for it but he was still too vital, making beautiful records and giving amazing performances. I was lucky enough to see him in Rotterdam 3 years ago, a 3-hour show during which he was tireless, and constantly emanated warm gentlemanly charm, humour and love for his art, band and audience. In the few days since his death an awful lot has been written, Greek media focusing on his residence in the Greek island of Hydra where he wrote so many of his songs and books, including the novel sitting now on my bedside table, "Beautiful Losers". Others focused on the story of his retreat to a Zen monastery, and his stepping out of retirement after realizing his manager had embezzled all of his money. Amazing to think we owe this extremely creative last decade to a simple swindle. Still others focused on the women in his life, including Marianne and Suzanne whom he immortalized in song. There's really nothing left to add, and none of it is important anyway except for the music and poetry. I've been listening to him a lot lately, and I decided to present one of my favourite albums of his here.

In 1988 Cohen was sidelined by the music industry - not surprisingly, since he hadn't made a really good album since 1974's "New Skin for the Old Ceremony". Nobody must have expected him to deliver such a thoroughly modern-sounding album and such a batch of soon-to-be-classic songs. "First We Take Manhattan" is a bold opener, with its aggressive lyric, quasi-disco intro and new wave synths. "They sentenced me to twenty years of boredom/For trying to change the system from within/I'm coming now, I'm coming to reward them/First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin". Powerful words and, like always, open to interpretations. When asked about the meaning, Cohen replied drily that it's a terrorist song and that he always admired terrorists, not for their acts, but for their unstoppable urge to change the world. He has described the narrator as "an outsider, demented and menacing", but he obviously inhabits this character with exultation. "Ain't No Cure for Love", on the other hand, is as straight a love song as it comes. Almost banal with its AOR production, soulful backing vocals and sax, it was the safe choice for a single. It's true that the album's "modern" 80's production now sounds hopelessly dated, but this collection of songs is so strong that such nuisances barely register. "Everybody Knows" is introduced with some dramatic (true or synthesized) strings and more poignant ruminations on the state of the world "Everybody knows that the dice are loaded/

The Greek edition of "Beautiful Losers"

Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed/Everybody knows that the war is over/Everybody knows the good guys lost/Everybody knows the fight was fixed/The poor stay poor, the rich get rich". In typical Cohen manner, the focus abruptly shifts from the political to the personal while he utters some of the sharpest put-downs ever to a former lover "Everybody knows that you love me baby...Everybody knows you've been discreet/But there were so many people you just had to meet/Without your clothes". The unexpected use of an oud contributes to what I can only describe as a perfect song. Exceptionally, the same can be said for the next two tracks here: "I'm Your Man" is one of the most beautiful, passionate, sick love songs. Over a slow rhythmic track, the singer begs for his loved one's attention in the most horny, desperate, undignified way. It's funny, yet touching. It takes some very strong poetry to stoop so low and get lauded for your passion instead of being ridiculed, and only two men have ever pulled it off: Cohen, and Jacques Brel on "Ne Me Quitte Pas". Talking about strong poetry, "Take This Waltz" is adapted from a poem by one of the all-time greats: Federico Garcia Lorca. It is another perfect pairing of words and music, with its romantic violin and wonderful female backing vocals, while even Cohen abandons his talking/singing style for a more melodic approach. 
It's followed by the record's relatively poorest song, the humorous experimental new-wave of "Jazz Police". "I Can't Forget" (...but I don't remember what) features another humorous lyric, and a strange combination of country (listen to that steel guitar) and electronic sounds. It's been covered by The Pixies, whose Frank Black has always professed the influence Cohen's singing always had on him - obviously his influence has spread over many decades and musical genres. The album closes with an ode to songwriting, probably the best ever: the singer pays his dues living (100 floors under Hank Williams, apparently) in the "Tower Of Song", tranforming the story of his love and life into songs. Best line of the song: the wry, sarcastic "I was born like this, I had no choice/I was born with the gift of a golden voice". Supposedly self-mocking, it never fails to get a big reaction when played live, Cohen having long since turned the handicap of his limited vocal range to an asset, by way of his warm and soothing yet precise delivery. The man had infinate charm and a god given talent for words. If he had lived 100 years it still wouldn''t have been enough, but thankfully he's left plenty behind for us to explore and to treasure. This album may be the perfect starting point.

  ***** for First We Take Manhattan, Everybody Knows, I'm Your Man, Take This Waltz, Tower of Song

**** for Ain't No Cure for Love, I Can't Forget

*** for Jazz Police