Andy Brett

79 days ago

From 1993-98 his need for silence drew him to Zen, to a monk’s life in a shack (with essential espresso machine) 6,500 feet up a mountain in California. There he wrote, smoked, shovelled snow, romped in his dreams with an immense cloudy woman, and came down, back to Boogie Street, convinced he had no gift for spiritual matters.

Raising the song

economist.com

HE HAD little to bring, Leonard Cohen said. He worked with what he’d got. Simple chords on his guitar, which he wished he could play better. A finger or two on a keyboard. His “golden voice”, a wry joke (for yes, he often joked, when he could raise his brooding eyes out of his despair).