Cover Story: The Case of Hallelujah and How to Preserve Musical Material While Still Making it Your Own

Cohen’s beautifully tragic lyrics, paired with Buckley’s commanding voice and stripped down acoustic guitar, create a lasting legacy cementing both artists as legends.

Written by Sydney Meier

 

Photos courtesy of Valentin Flauraud/Reuters and Paul Natkin

 

Leonard Cohen was a distinctive voice in the 1970s pop scene, delivering an existential theme to most of his discography with a deadpan baritone. Cohen began as a poet and a novelist before transitioning to the folk scene during the mid-1960s by setting his poems to music. He became known for his unparalleled lyrical talent, earning praise from critics. Although his lyrics were emotionally stirring, his oddly grandiose instrumentals and dull vocals somewhat diluted his message from a passionate plea to a monotonous recital. 

Like Cohen, Jeff Buckley was first and foremost a poet beginning his career reciting poems and songs for anyone who would listen. Buckley was a once-in-a-generation talent that emerged in the 1990s avant-garde club scene. He ushered in a new angle on the rock genre by compiling unique lyricism, intense instrumentals, and tragically vulnerable vocals. Buckley elegantly displayed these elements with his 1994 debut album Grace, which received notable commercial and critical acclaim. One of the most notable tracks on the album was his cover of “Hallelujah,” which took Cohen’s lyrics and revitalized them to their original luster. 

In 1984, Cohen released the eclectic Various Positions in 1984, which housed the artist’s most popular song, “Hallelujah.” Cohen’s version of the song is an odd blend of musical aspects with misplaced ‘80s synth instrumentals and his ever-present expressionless vocals. This shift from understated folk influences to experimental synthesizers was unexpected. Cohen’s earlier work  is more minimalist, but “Hallelujah” and the rest of Various Positions displayed his artistic development towards pop rock. It’s perplexing to hear gut-wrenching lyrics paired with electric keyboard presets playing over and over. In the end, the true injustice of “Hallelujah” stems from Cohen’s vocals. He does not sing as though he is arguing with God about his lover and the temptations she brings. Rather, Cohen presents a passionless spoken word performance of lyrics that deserve the opposite. 

However, there are certain aspects to this song that are its saving grace: the backdrop’s vocals throughout the chorus and the lyrical dialogue between a man and God. As Cohen attempts to garner a vocal swell through his spoken word style, intense choral background vocals send a wave of intensity through the audience’s ears. There is a cohesive and sensical connection between the lyricism’s biblical themes and the song’s gospel-esque choral addition. Cohen’s “Hallelujah” is  memorable and remains one of the most covered songs in the industry because of these remarkable lyrics. In the fourth verse of the song, Cohen admits “I did my best, it wasn’t much / I couldn’t feel, so I tried to touch” confessing his frailty as a man to his audience, God. In the fifth verse of “Hallelujah,” Cohen compares the level of comfort and safety achieved in a relationship causing a sense of premature success to his partner hanging her “flag on the marble arch.” “Love is not a victory march / It’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah” some believe falling in love is the hardest achievement within a relationship when in reality falling in love is only the start of a very difficult journey that will have you praying out of misery rather than rejoicing in ecstasy. The song contains many verses that portray an argument between a man and God about earthly pleasures:music, love, sex, and so on. Our narrator constantly addresses a “you” whose identity is never revealed, but a safe assumption of their identity is God themselves. 

Perhaps the most recognizable call to the biblical themes of Cohen’s lyrics is the repetition of “Hallelujah” in the chorus. While recalling worldly experiences, the narrator proclaims “hallelujah” five times, praising God and their own ventures which were made possible purely through the existence of the earth. However, the last verse of the song unveils the narrator's uncertainty surrounding the existence of God questioning “Maybe there’s a God above” because all he has learned from his relationships is “how to shoot at someone who outdrew you” developing a need to hurt the people who hurt you first. Our protagonist is left not as “somebody who’s seen the light” but left crying a “cold and … broken Hallelujah” as he reflects on the pain he has received from the people he has loved the most. 

Buckley’s cover of “Hallelujah” took Cohen’s incredible lyricism and made it entirely his own, garnering massive amounts of attention and praise. As Buckley commonly does with his covers, he strips the song down to its barest form, exposing its fragility for the world to consume. Rather than an argument between a man and God, “Hallelujah” transforms into seven minutes of a man reflecting on his relationship with a woman where he was allowed to be his truest self. Buckley pleads to his audience, “She tied you to her kitchen chair / And she broke your throne and she cut your hair,” comparing her control over their sexual relationship with the narrator to Eve’s weak fortitude, falling for Satan’s seduction of sin and evil. Buckley’s vocals lay bare as a soft guitar plays in the background, conveying the absolute vulnerability of his narrative. His trembling proclamation, changes in the volume of his voice, and alterations to the pace of his performance create a feeling of uncertainty among listeners. In Buckley’s eyes, “Hallelujah” needed less structure vocally and instrumentally because the lyrics themselves reveal a disheveled man's reasoning with himself and God. 

Both artists are incredibly talented, but needed their abilities to come together to create this masterpiece of a song. Cohen’s version is by no means bad, but Buckley captivates audiences by bringing his own vulnerability to the table. Each artist leans on different aspects offered by the other’s version of “Hallelujah.” The multitudes of talent from both Cohen and Buckley create a masterpiece.