For a song to be considered a masterpiece, all parts must fit elegantly no matter the genre or meaning of the song. That means lyrics, harmony, melody, vocals, and instrumentals must join hands and lead listeners astray as they lose themselves in the music.
A well-known Canadian artist, Leonard Cohen, has created multiple masterpieces during his career such as the famous “Hallelujah” from the album Various Positions. His songs have often been covered by both aspiring and proclaimed musicians. Recently, The Districts, a Philly rock band, released their cover of Cohen’s 1974 tune “Lover, Lover, Lover” off of the album New Skin for the Old Ceremony.
Cohen is a master of the arts, undoubtedly, but he failed to make “Lover, Lover, Lover” reach its full potential. It opens with four seconds of upbeat guitar sounds, which throw me into the Latino music world, and I expect to hear Spanish from the singer. But Cohen instead begins a conversation with his dead father (or heavenly father). I am unpleasantly surprised as I listen to the words and try to grasp meaning.
This song has drawn many to debate the true meaning and intention of Cohen’s words. For example, who is this “lover” the singer wants back? What motivated Cohen to write such desperate lyrics? Yet, no matter Cohen’s craft, because of the out-of-place music, the words lose meaning.
When I went through my Cohen phase a few winters ago, “Lover, Lover, Lover” was dismissed from my playlist after a few listens. Once I saw that The Districts covered the song, I wasn’t excited and actually found myself annoyed with the band’s choice. But as soon as the sounds erupted from my speakers, I was hooked.
This is a completely different song. The poetical guitar that sounds so Districts-like introduces the tune, immediately causing me to forget my previous complaint. For 19 seconds, the guitar vibrations hold my attention, and I half dread, half anticipate what comes next—Robbie Grote’s unmistakably fiery voice. To make the puzzle whole, drums are added, emphasizing Robbie’s voice and Cohen’s words.
I’ve mentioned before that a truly beautiful song will lead its listeners astray, and this is precisely what The Districts cover does. For almost five minutes, I sat still, engaged in the musical process, following the incendiary guitar riffs as the vocals pulled me farther away from reality. The song reaches a climax in which the guitar and drums crescendo and become faster—only to have all sound fade into a dramatic decrescendo. To fill the void, the bold voice comes back in, rather faintly and slowly. As the song reaches the end, Robbie changes pitch, straining his voice, which becomes more imploring and completely overtakes the listener.
I have no doubt The Districts will become big one day; they’re too good to just fade into the background. If you ever get the chance to see them live, you must go. When I was at their concert last October, their stage presence was something otherworldly. In their “Lover, Lover, Lover” rendition, listeners can almost feel the vibrations in their bones, see Robbie’s sweat and spit flying into the microphone, and experience the lyrics so strongly that they join Robbie’s desperation at the end of the song.
