and so I was only 18 and you came to sing in Madrid it was 1972 and I went with my brother to see you I was so at awe you sang most songs but then I screamed sing SUZANNE!!!! and you said Suzanne is coming!!!!! love your poetry I have become a more beautiful me because of your songs, thank you!!!!!

It was England, 1976, my brother had a compilation album "The Rock Machine Turn's You On" which he'd left on a window sill in the sun. It had melted over some wires leaving the first three tracks from each side un playable. It was all rock bands like Hendrix and the Doors. The last track on side two was completely different from anything I'd ever heard and it drew me in like no other sound had ever done until then. It was "The Sisters of Mercy" with it's whispering female vocals, sleigh bells and the lonesome sincerity of Leonard's voice. .
Until then as a 14 year old, I'd been mostly into rock. Once I heard that song my musical world changed. It was my music, my life, my future. My parents had "Songs of Leonard Cohen" in their collection. I'd already scoured their albums for anything listenable and passed by this album without a listen because of the Sinatra like photo of a guy in a suit on the front cover. After hearing "The Sisters Of Mercy" I pulled it from their albums (I'd never heard them playing it) and it became the first in my Cohen collection, which at one point included every album, every press interview, the two novels and all the poetry books. I was floating in his mystery, lost and found again, warmed by sunlight through a window on a cold winter day.
There were a few other artists I liked, but Leonard was all I really listened to. Even on my lousy portable LP player he sounded great. He came to Manchester in 1985 on the Various Positions tour and I went, the only time I've ever seen him in concert.
I'd dream about him sometimes, he'd be in an apartment somewhere, on the ground floor. He'd talk to me for a long time, sharing his wisdom and then he'd excuse himself, his lady needed something, and he had to attend to her. Then he'd be gone, off to fix something in the kitchen.
My friend Lax and I drove across the US and took a detour to the top of Mt. Baldy to see where he was living. Just a few monks, no sign of either Master. We brought back a huge pine cone, still hanging from my ceiling and known affectionately as "Leonard Cone".
I covered his songs and then wrote my own. Wishing all the time that just one of my hundred songs could be a fraction as perfect as any one of his. His songs are the inspiration for my own and the benchmark of quality I aspire to but never reach.
If you read this, Master, you should know that you have touched the deepest part of many hearts and have inspired love and creativity through the world. I thank you.