Leonard Cohen: in praise of minor poets

Mississippi Fred McDowell used his foot as a drum, tapping it on the wooden stage while he played guitar and sang, "You've Got to Move."

Big Joe Turner was so big near the end of his life that he had to sit on a chair while performing. God, what a singer! And a very nice man too. If you've never heard Big Joe sing, "Flip, Flop, and Fly" you must do so immediately, or at least sometime before you die.

A guy I knew in the 1980s had a rock 'n' roll band in Southern California. He played bass guitar and thought he'd one day become famous; but fame never happened. Instead the highlight of his musical career was the night his band backed Chuck Berry at a gig in San Diego. I can still hear him talking about it, though we lost touch years ago.

Does anyone remember Esther Phillips? I do. I saw her perform in a nightclub on Crenshaw Boulevard, LA, and remember how much energy she had: it was like she was twirling every song she sang around and around on her little finger or her hips.

Eddie 'Cleanhead' Vinson, T-Bone Walker, Jimmy Reed, Slim Harpo, poets each and everyone of them. 

I'm pretty sure T-Bone Walker couldn't read. I say this because when I handed him one of his albums-an album by the way, he'd never seen-he just looked at the pictures on it, and didn't say one word about the liner notes, whether they were accurate or not.

Now Cohen is dead. Walking down the street this morning to fetch the newspaper, I like the way the telephone wires look and stop to take a picture. Even though there are no birds on them, I can imagine I'm hearing the memorable music of a minor poet.