The concept of an artist’s muse is no new phenomena. A lover, a place or an experience being the epicentre of inspiration and tortuous creativity is a long-documented part of history. For art, think Gala Dali and Salvadore Dali, Lord Alfred Douglas and Oscar Wilde, or more contemporary collisions like Pixy Liao and her Moro. For music, think Stevie Nicks and Lindsay Buckingham, Erykah Badu and Andre3000, Paul Simon on Carrie Fisher’ and Joan Baez on Bob Dylan.
I have always felt inspired by how powerful of an impact one person or a fleeting romance can have on an artist, a song or sometimes an artist’s entire discography. I thought this creative beau ideal longing was rare and only permissible to the lucky ones. That was until I met Suzanne.
The muse of ‘Suzanne’ has appeared on the tongue of many artist’s across the decades. Starting from Leonard Cohen’s famed 1960 poem, Suzanne, these inspired lines were converted to song and originally performed by Judy Collins in 1967. Cohen wrote his poem about his experience pining over a platonic but agonising intimacy with a friend called Suzanne, he connected with in Montreal. Following its success, Cohen debuted his own lyrics in song format and the rest was history.
So, I have chosen 5 renditions of Suzanne for your musing and listening pleasure.
‘Suzanne’ by Nina Simone (1969)
Nina Simone took her own rendition of the song, ‘Suzanne’, into higher empyrean with her deep but bouncy ballad. Covered only 2 years after the first professional release, Simone’s ‘Suzanne’ is sultry and rugged, breathing new life into Cohen’s previously witchy and elusive depiction of Suzanne. Simone fiercely defended Suzanne like she did Aunt Sarah, Saffronia, Sweet Thing and Peaches…
‘Suzanne’ by Neil Diamond (1971)
Neil Diamond’s spin is my least favourite. Whilst a striking profession of love for our Suzanne, it felt like Diamond transformed the lyrics into an “I am…I said”-esque ballad without the delicateness or vulnerability of the lines. Regardless, Suzanne was again catapulted into the hearts of 1970s rock-pop, taking on a new melodic image of her own.
‘Suzanne’ by Nick Cave, Julie Christensen and Perla Batalla, (2006)
Meeting her decades later, this version feels like a tango between the two lovers, finally affording Suzanne the chance to interact with the poet’s characterisation of her. With vocals led by Nick Cave and harmonised smoothly with Julie Christensen and Perla Batalla, this rendition takes the achey – almost insufferable – male yearning and feminises it. Cave, potentially in line with his famous religiosity, repeated the stanza with the Judeo focus, a questionable but stand-out diversion from Cohen’s original concluding sentiment.
‘Suzanne’ by Meshell Ndegeocello, (2012)
Meshell Ndegeocello meets with Suzanne in an album titled, ‘A dedication to Nina Simone’ covering some of Simone’s most thrilling tracks. Ndegeocello’s version is a layered, light and percussion driven version, echoing the bounciness of Simone’s take. Being over four and a half minutes long, Ndegeocello makes room for the instruments to paint a picture of what it feels like to love Suzanne.
I decided to end with Ndegeocello’s rendition of Suzanne not because it’s the latest cover or the best one but because her version does not pay homage to Leonard Cohen. Instead she worships the Suzanne that walked out of the lyrics of Nina Simone’s oeuvre.
This mysterious Suzanne captured the imaginations — and sanity — of countless songwriters and audiences, becoming one of the most covered songs of Cohen’s entire discography. Suzanne with at least 30 different chart-topping covers. Make no mistake, I believe it is more than Cohen’s yearning lyricism that has etched Suzanne into the hearts and voices of many. I believe it is the agony and unrelenting haunt of loving your own Suzanne that will make the muse eternal.