This is a song that has meant a lot to me in dark times, and still does. It is one of Cohens most loved songs, but he was never convinced that it worked. How little artists know about their own creations; the moody, fragmented, suggestive lack of clarity is the great power of the song. Cohen said, The problem with that song is that Ive forgotten the actual triangle. Whether it was my own - of course, I always felt that there was an invisible male seducing the woman I was with, now whether this one was incarnate or merely imaginary I dont remember, Ive always had the sense that either Ive been that figure in relation to another couple or thered been a figure like that in relation to my marriage. I dont quite remember but I did have this feeling that there was always a third party, sometimes me, sometimes another man, sometimes another woman. It was a song Ive never been satisfied with. Its not that Ive resisted an impressionistic approach to songwriting, but Ive never felt that this one, that I really nailed the lyric. Im ready to concede something to the mystery, but secretly Ive always felt that there was something about the song that was unclear. Its four in the morning, the end of December Im writing you now just to see if youre better New York is cold, but I like where Im living Theres music on Clinton Street all through the evening. I hear that youre building your little house deep in the desert Youre living for nothing now, I hope youre keeping some kind of record. Yes, and Jane came by with a lock of your hair She said that you gave it to her That night that you planned to go clear Did you ever go clear? Ah, the last time we saw you you looked so much older Your famous blue raincoat was torn at the shoulder Youd been to the station to meet every train And you came home without Lili Marlene And you treated my woman to a flake of your life And when she came back she was nobodys wife. Well I see you there with the rose in your teeth One more thin gypsy thief Well I see Janes awake She sends her regards. And what can I tell you my brother, my killer What can I possibly say? I guess that I miss you, I guess I forgive you Im glad you stood in my way. If you ever come by here, for Jane or for me Well your enemy is sleeping, and his woman is free. Yes, and thanks, for the trouble you took from her eyes I thought it was there for good so I never tried. And Jane came by with a lock of your hair She said that you gave it to her That night that you planned to go clear Sincerely L Cohen
Posted on: Tue, 06 Jan 2015 14:01:28 +0000
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