Live Review

Leonard Cohen – Echo Arena, Liverpool

• 21st Jul 2009

Leonard Cohen belies his years and skips on the stage to a middle aged roar of approval and standing ovation. ‘Dressed to kill’, as the reasonably priced programme pronounces, wearing a dapper suit, cockily tilted trilby and a crooked smile he immediately launches into ‘Dance Me To The End Of Love’. Indeed the backing band, and the crew even, continue this theme of dapper suits and bygone days head accessories – a testament to the complete fluidity and astounding musical ability that Cohen has surrounded himself with and the show he is about to perform.

The first half of the set is devoted to later material such as ‘Waiting For The Miracle’ and ‘Ain’t No Cure’ plus a little known number that shrugged off the stereotypical Cohen image and playfully toyed with the crowd with a country tune; including a surprise backward somersault from the delightful Webb sisters.

The song selection was considerately and thoughtfully put together (which it had to be for such a long careers worth of work) and ran alongside a spry Cohen on stage. The pessimism and pain of youth transformed to a sardonic but humorous Cohen, who, with a twinkle in his eye and looking like your favourite grandfather, gave the crowd a tale of love and woe, but with perhaps a generous helping of laissez faire. Indeed, he gleefully tells the sympathetic audience to be very weary of hotel mirrors if they happen to be past the freshness of youth. Admitting to the passage of time with a resigned but contented smile, Cohen “aches in places where he used to play”.

Drawing the first half to a close Cohen introduces and salutes his brilliant backing band with a modesty and gratefulness that is charming, closing with ‘Ring The Bells, That Still Can Ring, Forget Your Perfect Offering’, leaving the stage the same way he joined it – to warm hearted applause and with a skip.

Cohen and band re-emerge for the second half and go straight back to the early years with ‘Tower Of Song’ followed by the heartbreaking ‘Suzanne’. This down shift, complete with the sombre ballads and unaccompanied by band, is gratefully received as stillness seeps over the arena. A silenced hush falls as the enraptured audience are lost in the rough tones of Cohen’s rueful memories, stirring only for a gentle murmur along to ‘Sisters of Mercy’.

The anticipation builds as the soaring Hammond organ strikes up the opening chords of ‘Hallelujah’, releasing a cacophonous applause for a song that has been beautifully and not so beautifully covered so many times; yet none having ever captured the sweet agony of the original. However, the impish vibe of the aged Cohen is not lost as he endears himself further inserting the line “I’ll stand before Liverpool, Nothing on my lips but Hallelujah.”

You can see the enjoyment of performance is still there as Cohen spends half the concert kneeling on the floor, risking his creaky bones and joints as the words flood back to him. Bewitching the audience with his sensual, haunting lyrics set against a simple stage show. Who needs flashing lights and ear bleeding guitars? His words and shuffling energy say it all.

The trip down memory lane continues with ‘Take This Waltz’, ‘I’m Your Man’, ‘Who By Fire’, ‘Bird On A Wire’ and ‘The Partisan’ before bringing the set to a conclusion with the stirring ‘So Long Marianne’.

Several encores then follow, the most memorable of which was a prayer introduced stating “difficult times had been had” and ending “If it be your will”. Backing singers, the Webb Sisters, completed the musical ending to the song as the crowd watched Cohen stare into space with a tear sliding down his cheek. I am sure he was not the only one to feel a swell of emotion in the room but he managed to pull himself together, wiping his face with a hankie and launching into a suitably upbeat (for Cohen) ending of the show, ‘Closing Time’.

It was a privilege to watch and listen to the man in concert. His songs will live through time as long as people can feel and have emotion. Hallelujah indeed L. Cohen.