Leonard Cohen


In late August of 1990, just as I was about to enter the third grade, I was lounging in my bed at Mercy hospital reading the film section of the Friday newspaper my Dad had brought up. Pump Up the Volume was in theatres. The newspaper’s film critic had given it a 10 out of 10.

The surgery I’d just had kept me home during the theatrical run. It wasn’t until its release on video that I embraced it and fell in love with its opening credits song: Everybody Knows by Leonard Cohen. The film’s soundtrack turned out to be a huge let down, featuring Concrete Blonde’s cover of Everybody Knows instead of the real deal.

Christmas came. A Super Nintendo under the tree.  I’m Your Man on CD in my stocking, the cover photo a monochromatic image of Leonard Cohen in a black suit eating a banana. Everybody Knows played on repeat for a long stretch before I discovered I Can’t Forget and First We Take Manhattan.

Bla bla bla. Now its twenty-three years later. Garlic scents floating toward me from the kitchen, my girlfriend’s cooking pasta, asking if I want some. No, I tell her. I had some leftover pizza, but maybe I’ll pack an energy bar… Still need to shave and change clothes. Maybe wear the new blue blazer I picked up at H&M three weeks ago. I can’t remember the last concert I saw sober. Who cares. We’re seeing Leonard Cohen at Ericson Globe in Stockholm Sweden at eight o clock p.m.


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