A bad year for deaths. Prince, Muhammad Ali, Terry Wogan, Gene Wilder, David Bowie and now this. Seems that Cohen, in his early 80's, was getting ready to go. The album is very sad and bleak and wintry and full of croon.
The guy wrote everything, sang, painted and more in his lifetime. Once in a second-hand bookshop, I was looking around and there were loads of dusty old paperbacks for sale, some for less than a pound but I wasn't keen as they were tat / trash / codswallop. Then, I saw a hardback copy Beautiful Losers, his second and final novel from 1966!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And so I bought it for nearly 16 quid I think.
I just think that there is a time and a place for everything. I am late on the bandwagon once again like for a lot of things. Whether fourteen albums or two novels or a few decades of poetry, it is apparent that is his epitaph and should be treasured and by God will it be. It will be.
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