
Karri
LEONARD COHEN: Dear Heather
(SONY/COLUMBIA)
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The master delves into his old themes with more fragile brush-strokes than before
Dear Heather sounds like a diary. While Cohen´s previous albums boasted clearly defined themes, painstakingly constructed emotions and states of mind, Dear Heather is like a series of postcards. Some of them are only five lines long (the dumbfounding title track) and even the longest ones (Because Of, Nightingale) could each be fitted into a single verse of an old Cohen song.
This epistolary tendency is discernible in the title of the album (a sub-headline could be "Letters to a woman") as well as the obvious focal point of the album, a song called The Letters. It is this song that provides the link to the previous album Ten New Songs (2002) (sic!) It´s composed by Sharon Robinson, who put in a considerable effort on the previous album, and in terms of form, it´s one of the most conservative songs on the album. Arranger/composer/singer Anjani Thomas makes her debut as a collaborator on this album.
Well, not exactly. Cohen has been working with Thomas since 1985, and some of the lyrics on this album are old or borrowed ones (by Lord Byron, Cohen´s friend and colleague Frank Scott). He is backed by a band of trusty musicians - with its oud, acoustic guitar and jew´s harp Dear Heather occasionally harks back to Recent Songs (1979) - and, all things considered, the listener inevitably starts to feel like being caught burglarizing Cohen´s box of memories.
The Letters ends with the words You walk into my room / You stand there at my desk / Begin your letter to / The one who´s coming next. It is quite a shock to realize that "the one who´s coming next" is you and me, dear listener. Is it intended as a goodbye? Then the kaleidoscope moves slightly, and it all seems to be just fiendish flirtation.
In its zen-like, ostensible simplicity, Dear Heather is Cohen´s simplest and, at the same time, most complicated album, an invitation to dance wrapped in a farewell. Or, possibly, a farewell masquerading as an invitation to dance. At least it´s beautiful, and filled with warmth.
JEAN RAMSAY