NUMBER SEVEN

Leonard Cohen -- Hallelujah

"And even if it's all gone wrong I'll stand before the Lord of Song with nothing more upon my tongue than Hallelujah."

Hallelujah is a song that belongs to others more than it does to its creator. All songs are held out as gifts but few have been so eagerly seized upon as this. It's been devoured to such an extent, it has had its quintessential expression and influence as a cover.

Cohen's version appeared on Various Positions, released in 1984, 25 years into his career and 25 years ago. It suffers from an over-the-top production but its power is obvious. The tragic figure of Jeff Buckley gave the song its voice on his 1994 album Grace. That version was based on a cover by John Cale from the Cohen tribute album I'm Your Fan.

Very much this year's man, Cohen, in his 70s, is still considered Sex In A Tailored Suit. He is a ladies' man, revelling in the role. In every Mary Magdalene he spied a Madonna and in every Madonna a woman, "your faith was strong but you needed proof/ you saw her bathing on the roof." He sings of finding his own liberation with Sisters of Mercy, with Suzanne. In his way he sought to be free. In his way he showed us a way.

Cohen, of Jewish heritage, is intrigued by the Catholic imagery of his native Montreal. He explores religion in his poems, novels, songs and art. There are others who have taken inspiration from the Other Solitude. Daniel Lanois for example. The Band, too, used Biblical lexicography throughout their work. Arcade Fire mines the same vein. Dan Bejar of Destroyer is a child of Cohen. In the Tower Of Song, Cohen is floors above them. He shares the space with Neil Young. But while Neil sings of rust and dust, Lenny sings of lust.

From this elevation he leads the Hallelujah. From below we offer him our Hallelujah back. He takes each one. With every Hallelujah released from the our lips, the body is lightened and his is burdened. He is strong. He can take the weight of the choir. He drapes our woes, worries, sins upon himself. With his Hallelujah. he provides benediction, deliverance. He passes out freedom.

The Hallelujah is not the end, it is the journey. The Hallelujah is the movement, the act, the motion. The Hallelujah is the cry one never wants to cease. It is the celebration of the body as a cage. The Hallelujah is communion. It is many becoming one.

NUMBER SIX

Gordon Lightfoot -- Canadian Railroad Trilogy

"There was a time in this fair land when the railroad did not run/ When the wild majestic mountains stood alone against the sun."

All history should be sung. And sung along with spritely bluegrass too. And sung in the penetrating warmth of Orillia's own golden baritone. His timbre is the forest between the trees. He fills the spaces, he joins and binds. Lightfoot is a band of iron, the last spike. With just his songs he holds this country in place. He is the singing equivalent of the railroad he sings about. This song, in particular, written for Canada's Centennial celebrations, is its own trip into the past. It's a pause to reflect on how the present came to be.

"Living on stew and drinking bad whiskey/ Bending our backs 'til the long days are done."

But also the future, which glowed bright on the horizon in the heady days of that birthday year; 1967 was the year when Canada took notice of itself. A quiet pride was born then. Canada mattered. The future isn't what it once was. The practicalities of living get in the way. But one time, one time, one time ... the dream was within grasp.

"The song of the future has been sung/ All the battles have been won/ On the mountaintops we stand/ All the world at our command/ We have opened up the soil with our teardrops and our toil."

The Canadian Railroad Trilogy is Canada's legend in lyric form. Pierre Berton commented that Lightfoot captured in one song what he has been attempting in his books. Lightfoot chose not to just rely on words to tell the tale. He decided to mimic the train itself. His acoustic ramblings and pickings parlay the engine picking up speed, getting a head of steam, slowing into the station. Without the words, the tune itself can take you from one end of the country to the other.

Mobility, travel, pitting one's wits against lake or land, conquering geography are deep in the Canadian psyche. There is no problem in this place that can't be solved by moving on. Because no matter how bad it gets, one can always hop a train. With this song, Lightfoot praises the navvies who provided that option in real terms.

William McGuirk is a freelance writer and longtime Oshawa resident. He can be contacted at wmacg@yahoo.com.