Those aren't his best songs, and Audiophile's job as a contest judge should not be to prop up that unemployed person's self esteem, or to pat yourselves on the back for recognizing faux wit. Here were my entrees (despite the contradiction, you didn't prohibit people from entering more than one best song). I encourage all particapants to post their entrees here as homage to Cohen.

------------------------------

Suzanne is the best song.

It expresses the miraculous in the ordinary, first with the tea

being “all the way from China” and then with Jesus as a tragic sailor. No lover can view his or her beloved the same after

listening to Suzanne! We see that love transforms mundane

things like oranges and tea into things that justify existence.

Essential wisdom from Cohen!

Jon Cogburn

------------------------------

The Stranger Song is the best song.

When other musicians made adolescent cartoons of the old traveling man blues motif, Cohen produced something of great beauty and sadness. Like Stevens’ “Wild World” this made generation Xers as children first suspect that the adult world contained adventure and tragedy. The melody is immortal and the song also contains one of the best personifications of Cohen’s underrated guitar style.

Jon Cogburn

------------------------------

The Partisan is the best song.

Alone of among English adaptations of d'Astier and Marly’s "La complainte du partisan," Cohen communicates the true price of heroism (overwhelming despair, loss, and futility) while at the same time showing the heroic to be heroic. For contrast, listen to Joan Baez’ dishonest wimpy gun-free version. Or imagine Bob Dylan’s angry sneer of a voice trying to communicate such complexity.

I did seven entrees and couldn't get a runner up?

------------------------------

Famous Blue Raincoat is the best song.

It is haunting and beautiful. The narrator was shattered by his friend sleeping with his wife. But being shattered saved both his marriage and him from being a jerk. He forgives his

pathetic friend, who has not managed the transition from roux.

And Leonard Cohen said in an interview that the famous raincoat

was really his own tattered blue Burberry.

Jon Cogburn

------------------------------

Joan of Arc is the best song.

This was during a lost weekend in New Orleans in my friend’s

apartment listening to Songs of Love and Hate. I was grimy. My friend argued with his girlfriend. Neither of them could

apologize and ratchet things down. At the beginning of Joan of

Arc she walked out. The song somehow contradicted and

underlined my friend’s tragedy and our hangovers.

Jon Cogburn

------------------------------

Chelsea Hotel #2 is the best song.

She “prefers handsome men;” he’s an exception. Music makes up

for being ugly, yet she “turned her back on the crowd.” He

doesn’t think of her often, yet he’s singing about her. Cohen

is haunted because he bragged about it being Janis Joplin, and

now can’t figure out how to apologize to a ghost. But the song

already does that.

Jon Cogburn

------------------------------

Everybody Knows is the best song.

“Success verbs” are such that one who sincerely asserts “x Ys that P” is committed to P. But: (1) collectively the P’s here are absurdly negative, bordering on the humorous, (2) there is a sense in which we can suspect something to be true without admitting it to be so, and for Cohen “everybody knows” these things. Great music too.

Jon Cogburn

Yeah, massive spelling errors and lack of formatting took some of the sting out of my tantrum.

For the next contest I'll not only hold my breath until I turn blue, but also wail and bang my head on the kitchen floor. That will show the lot of you of what a true Cohen fan is capable.

Laurie,

Obviously whatever harm my being obnoxious has caused here is infinitesmal compared to your loss, but please accept my apologies.

I think I read the word as "job" because my brain couldn't accept the horror of what you've been through.

Cohen is lucky to have a fan of such grace as is manifested by your letter.

Jon

A couple of years ago after flying all over Europe and enjoying their quiet airports it was a huge and unpleasant piece of culture shock to be subject to the hell that is now the Atlanta airport.

While I was gone they had installed new flat screen T.V.s and Bose non-directional speakers. The speakers are so bass heavy and the volume so loud that ear plugs barely damper out the warbling CNN. Even without the added loop tape of bad music, incessant announcements, horns from the carts transporting old people, and jerks yelling into their cell phones and everybody's blood pressure would go up.

You used to be able to get away from it in the restaurants, but the terminal is now so packed with people that even getting in one of them is very dicey, and chances are the restaurants will be blaring ESPN or FOX in any case.

The traditional social contract in the United States was that you could do whatever you wanted as long as you doing it didn't interfere with others. This meant that the burden of proof was not on people who wanted peace and quiet, but was on those making loud noises. In Atlanta this bit of the philosophical foundation of our country no longer holds I guess.