“That’s all…”: Leonard Cohen’s greatest closing line
At the end of ‘Chelsea Hotel No 2’, Leonard Cohen tries to brush it all under the carpet.
After one of his most emotional laments that not only remembered Janis Joplin but memorialised an entire scene, he suddenly tried to be nonchalant, singing, “That’s all, I don’t even think of you that often”.
It’s a strikingly strange addition, as throughout the rest of the song, Cohen proves that it’s quite the opposite, which sees him return to room 411 at the iconic Chelsea Hotel in New York, where his generation of artists all seemed to land. At that given moment, it was home to the likes of Edie Sedgwick, Bob Dylan, a scattering of Beat poets, Arthur Miller reeling from his divorce from Marilyn Monroe, and all manner of musicians and eccentric characters floating in and out.
Janis Joplin was staying there, so was Kris Kristofferson, and the story goes that one day in the elevator, Joplin found Cohen and asked him if he’d seen the actor and musician kicking about anywhere. With all his charm, the Canadian writer retorted, “I’m Kris Kristofferson”, and they ended up making love.
‘Chelsea Hotel No 2’ recalls that day and Joplin, singing, “You were famous, your heart was a legend”, as well as the tenderness of the chance encounter and their fleeting but special connection, quoting musings they’d shared on music and beauty while remembering the buzz outside. While the song doesn’t wander from their room, there is always a sense that the noise and bustle of both New York’s art scene, and the crowd at the Chelsea, linger just outside and that this commemoration is for all of that too as Cohen sings, “Those were the reason an’ that was New York, We were runnin’ for the money and the flesh”.
But the key to the song is that this is a mournful commemoration specifically of Joplin, written after her death and grappling with the fact that her loss hit Cohen hard despite them realistically barely knowing each other. To truly understand the song, you have to look at the original and look towards the long-lost and never recorded ‘Chelsea Hotel’. The initial, first draft of the song was quickly edited, but not before it was captured in one rare performance, and in that version, the truth of Cohen’s feelings is revealed as the lyrics are more immediately grieving, dealing with his sadness but also his anger towards a music world that allowed someone like Joplin to feel unloved and underappreciated.
“You got away, they can’t pay you know / For making your sweet little sound can they?” the original chorus goes as Cohen’s upset and bitterness come through louder. In this version, he is clearly devastated, as he sings, “I can hear you now / Go into the juke box / Choose your records / I listen all night now,” clinging to the memory of Joplin and what she represents about the artistic world around him and the exploitation in it all.
Years and years on from the release of ‘Chelsea Hotel No 2’, a much edited and less emotional version, the singer stated his regret for ever making it public that the song was about Joplin, seemingly shy about it, but even with the initial editing of the first draft to the second, it’s clear that Cohen didn’t know what to do with these feelings or how to navigate this grief in song.
In the initial draft, there’s the same kind of unsure ending as he sings, “Guess I got nothin’ more to say to you baby / I mean / So long…I’ll leave ya, now”, all as if he doesn’t know how to wrap it up. So at the end of ‘Chelsea Hotel No 2’, when he tags on this oddly unemotional and nonchalant final line, it lives on as the ultimate bluff as Cohen tries to act like he doesn’t care, but yet it only makes his care all the more gut-wrenching through his grieving uncertainty.
