Sebastian Schloessingk


On the front of The Culture
this Sunday was Leonard Cohen looking
good. And deep and sufficient in
the face and green-eyed at the age
of 80 or so. Tipped forward - in his
case allowably - the Trilby
he favours. (As do stars and rockers
ageing round the world specially

for interview: with Pork Pie, dull hue
Trilby - denoting still cool - they face down
the grotesque, not me baby.) And
beneath was printed, not quite him,
I intend to live forever.
The back cover monopolized meanwhile
by Phil Collins looking bad,
pottering-smiley and repulsive with age.

Near him was printed more rueful than wise
NOT DEAD YET, not 100%
rescued by the line-encoffined
pay-off pun LIVE! (at the RAH).
The only remotely youth thing was
a vague insert of grizzled chin stubble
which had to do, didn’t. However
L.Cohen’s photo as it transpired

may not have been super-recent, and
the statement of intent, whether his
or tweak of journo, provoked matters
in the purest fashion. He, of the two
the evergreen, a few weeks on (it happened
this time to the whole of him) was dead.
He passed as ‘ugly’ in his pull-no-
punches lyric, more like photogenic.