The Warmth of Leonard Cohen Live at the Isle of Wight 1970

Sometimes, whether in the studio or live on stage, there is a moment where a performer sparks and burns like a match and, if we're lucky, that moment -- John Lennon's vocal chord-crushing scream on "Twist & Shout," Bruce Springsteen's raw, scared and endless "Hiding on the backstreets!" cry from "Backstreets" -- is captured for us to hear. Leonard Cohen's entire early morning set before 600,000 people at 1970's Isle of Wight rock festival is such a moment, now available after 40 years as Leonard Cohen Live at the Isle of Wight 1970. And while it might begin with the flick of a thumbnail on a match head the set smolders for 90 minutes -- a must-hear recording if there is one.



Some background of the Isle of Wight festival is necessary before listening to Cohen's first note. Planned for a max of 200,000 people, the concert drew 600,000 people to Afton Down on the Isle off the south coast of England -- and most of those folks decided they shouldn't have to pay. As at Woodstock, promoters eventually gave up and let everyone in for free, but that didn't stop those who just wanted to disrupt. Fans lit fires, booed and threw beer cans at quieter performers and those they didn't like, until Jimi Hendrix eventually went on with a blistering performance that Cohen was expected to follow. He wouldn't, at least not right away, because someone had set the stage's organ and piano on fire and pushed them over the edge. Cohen told promoters he'd go on as soon as they found him a piano, and he went off to take a nap.

Shortly after two in the morning Cohen finally takes the stage with The Army, his hippie group of backup musicians and singers (that includes fiddle player Charlie Daniels). He looks out into the darkness at 600,000 tired, angry, hungry, wet, drunken, frustrated, on the edge, almost-out-of-control people and with the voice of their conscience he brings them together. He starts by quietly telling a story, a methodically slow story about a circus. His raspy voice, soft tone, silent band and possibly even the story itself causes conversations to quiet and arguments to end and attention to be paid, and the story leads to his asking them all to light a match "so I can see where you all are." He grounds them all, brings them out of the darkness, turns their attention to him, and then reflects it back into their souls.

Cohen opens with "Bird on a Wire," pausing long and emphatically between each of the song's first words, making sure they are paying attention: "Like........ a.........bird." And you can hear 40 years later that they are right there. He introduces and sings "So Long, Marianne," then he stops and he talks with them again, speaking to 600,000 people as if they are sitting on his couch in his apartment. "Let's renew ourselves now," he suggests, and for almost a full minute he provides a mantra for the crowd, and then he sings "You Know Who I Am" and they applaud.



Cohen sings and speaks that early morning with the voice of a poet, and while it's not the voice of a singer it was just the voice those people needed. He tells quiet stories about his songs, he whispers poetry, some undoubtedly improvised, and he pokes fun at himself and lets the audience in on the joke. But mainly he sings to them and for them and even about them.

He sings 13 songs (including "Suzanne," see the clip) from his first two albums, Songs Of Leonard Cohen and Songs from a Room, and he introduces several new songs, including the high point of the concert and album, "Famous Blue Raincoat," one of the most stunning, haunting songs about love, betrayal, redemption and forgiveness ever penned. (Jennifer Warnes more than does the song justice on her Cohen tribute record Famous Blue Raincoat but Cohen gets to the heart of the matter quicker and more deeply here, and it's only when he's done that you realize you're holding your breath.)

Finally, he closes the show with "Seems Like So Long Ago, Nancy," which he dedicates to a woman he knew who committed suicide with a shotgun in her bathtub. "But," Cohen says softly, "There was no one else around her to light all their matches."

Pick this up, hit the lights, and light a candle or two.