"Life is simpler to me now"

The legendary musician revises his Buddhist devotion, grows apart from his productionīs disctintive depressive tone and comments on his optimistic turn.

Leonard Cohen is the high priest of suffering. Heīs used to this reputation. Even the 67-year-old singer says his record company should give razor blades away with his records.

But two years ago, for no apparent reason, the veil of depression lifted. For the first time in his life, Cohen sighed, looked out on the world and felt at peace with it. "I remember sitting in the corner of my kitchen, which has a window overlooking the street. I saw the sunlight that shines on the chrome fenders of the cars, and thought, "Gee, that's pretty". I said to myself, "Wow, this must be like everybody feels."

Life became not easier but simpler."The backdrop of self-analysis I had lived with disappeared."

It was a remarkably late epiphany. Cohen had spent the past 50 years ploughing his way through drugs, drink, countless women and several religions in an attempt to find release from this 'backdrop' of self-doubt. But the cure was simpler - he learned to ignore himself.

"When you stop thinking about yourself all the time, a certain sense of repose overtakes you. It happened to me by imperceptible degrees and I could not really believe it".

For nearly three decades, Cohen had been following the ways of the Za-Zen Buddhists.

(...)

He has another sip of coffee, lights another Marlboro Light, and wriggles his toes inside his pair of comfortable brown slippers. Cohen is immensely relaxed (...) He seems content, both with his new record, Ten New Songs, and - judging by the slippers and the silk tie clipped delicately behind his tailored pinstripe suit - his daily luxuries.

(...)

In Ten New Songs, his new álbum, Cohen seems to have been born again. Gone are the anguish of the last fifty years and last decadeīs jokes. Instead there are satisfaction and much more elaborated worries.

"I donīt know much about death, but at some point in our lives we become aware that are time isnīt limitless."

Easier and more comfortable towards a world that used to provoke confusion and frustration in him, maybe Cohen has made up his mind to enjoy life, especially now that he realizes itīs not for ever. He shakes his head, as if he canīt believe that a changed, joyful Cohen is writing about death. "Did I really do that? In my last record? It must have slipped through my optimism filter".