
“So long, dear friends”: how Leonard Cohen and David Bowie stared down their mortality
“For now I need your hidden love, I’m cold as a new razor blade, you left when I told you I was curious, I never said that I was brave,” says Leonard Cohen to Marianne Ihlen in 1967. The line comes from the song ‘So Long, Marianne’, a piece which he wrote following their break-up. Almost 50 years later, two days before her death and three months before his, he writes to her once again, “Our bodies are falling apart, and I think I will follow you very soon. Know that I am so close behind you that if you stretch out your hand, I think you can reach mine… Goodbye, old friend. Endless love, see you down the road.”
Meanwhile, someone in their bedroom plays a music video for David Bowie’s ‘Blackstar’ for the first time. They see a dead astronaut scattered among the rocks, the only light creeps from the edges of an eclipsed moon, and the musical backdrop is chaotic and unsettling. The words pierce through, unheard by the band at the time of recording, a letter the singer wrote in solitude when the world spun silently, finally released, “In the villa of Ormen, in the villa of Ormen, stands a solitary candle”.
You have just read the words of two men who knew they were dying. Not in the student poetic sense of ‘We are all dying’, the sand in the timer was down to its last grains, and these two who knew they would leave behind bigger legacies than most had fleeting moments to reflect on their lives and come to terms with its inevitable end. That solitary candle was about to go out, and replacing it would be the mourning lights of the hundreds of thousands they touched in their lives, but not before one last goodbye.
A lot of people write down their emotions. Doing so is supposed to reduce stress, improve sleep, increase self-confidence, and improve mood. People also write music based on circumstances in their own life. Musical production has subsequently doubled up as a branch of therapy ever since words could rhyme and a tone could be carried. As masters of the art, it is hardly a surprise that both Bowie and Cohen turned to music in their final moments to reflect on their lives and stare down death. The end result is too profoundly beautiful works, as listeners get to hear them process mortality in real time.
Cohen released his 14th studio album, You Want It Darker, on October 21st, 2016. It came out just 17 days before his death. In it, he confronts God and his own mortality, poking humour at life while coming to terms with the fact that his would soon end. The record is bold and incredibly therapeutic.
News of his death, despite being sad, did not come as a surprise to many. He didn’t hold much back in interviews, as in one before the album’s release, he said, “The big change is the proximity to death. I am a tidy kind of guy. I like to tie up the strings if I can. If I can’t, also, that’s okay… I’ve got some work to do. Take care of business. I am ready to die.”
In the first song, Cohen writes about the persistent paradox that has been questioned since the bible, as he asks God how He could ever be perceived as merciful when He inflicts so much suffering. “If you are the dealer, I’m out of the game,” says Cohen, essentially standing up to the idea of the almighty, saying that if he has to play by his rules, he doesn’t want to play. However, voicing his frustration and vocalising this confrontation is enough for Cohen to steadily become okay with one of the harshest realities that life can offer: the inevitability of death. As the piece ends, Cohen professes, “I’m ready, my lord.”
The recording process was isolating for Cohen, which may have contributed to his willingness to be so open in what he wrote. Everything was done at home with his son, Adam Cohen. They would work on the record together, creating instrumentals and sending them to musicians who had never met face-to-face with Cohen. The result is a heavy but positive look at death, one where he is happy with what he has accomplished, laughs at the seriousness of everything, and revels in who he has met along the way. “I’m not alone. I’ve met a few, travelling light like we used to do.”

David Bowie, meanwhile, was no stranger to mortality throughout his career. He was an artist who enjoyed making characters, creating music with them at the forefront and then laying them to rest. Fans will struggle to forget the day he shed a tear when retiring Ziggy Stardust. Still, his emotion when stepping down from the role highlights the personal connection he felt with those characters, how difficult it would have been for him to let them go and how he mourned them as if they were real. As such, when the video for ‘Blackstar’ came out, and the body of Major Tom could be seen among the rocks, many fans might not have thought any more of it until they realised that Major Tom was the character most associated with Bowie throughout his life and is one character he never formally laid to rest.
That imagery is reflective of Bowie’s mindset at the time of writing Blackstar and filming the music video. He was also put face to face with his own mortality and decided the best way to make peace with it was to explore it through his art. Throughout the album, he views death from every possible angle, and the result is an acceptance of the inevitable, which came only two days after the album’s release.
Bowie and Cohen’s attitudes towards creating their final albums were in stark contrast to one another. While Cohen recorded in isolation, Bowie worked with a whole band in a studio. That led to an unwillingness to share the album’s theme, as he sang in melodic hums and noises rather than using actual words. Bowie didn’t reveal the album’s theme even upon its release; despite such heavy discussions of death, many fans didn’t make the link to Bowie until he passed away.
As music has always been used as a form of expression, it’s not surprising that both Cohen and Bowie turned to it when faced with the most daunting prospect of both of their lives: death. The result is albums that question mortality before coming to terms with it and act as the perfect swansong on two careers that are impossible to apply a permanent full stop to. In the same way, writing feelings down can help overcome them. Putting those feelings to sound was just as effective for Bowie and Cohen. As ‘So Long, Marianne’ helped Cohen come to terms with parting ways with Marianne Ihlen, You Want It Darker and Blackstar help us as listeners come to terms with the passing of our heroes, to the point that all that is left to say upon hearing the record is simply, “So long, dear friends.”