He was more than just walking in Memphis...let's rediscover Marc Cohn

Marc Cohn is mostly remembered, if at all, as a one-hit wonder. Chances are, if you just give the name to a random passerby (of a certain age) even the name won't ring a bell, but if you sing a couple of lines of his one big hit, some might remember. It also feels terribly unfair to call Cohn a one-hit-wonder considering the uality of his work, but that's because we often associate one hit wonders with novelty songs and bubblegum hits. Some of the most lauded artists and bands are technically no hit wonders, so being a one hit wonder is at least something. And to those who bemoan that their idol had a fluke hit despite his much better work being unknown - Warren Zevon fans customers come to mind - I'll say, it's better to be a one hit wonder than a no-hit wonder. And Cohn's one hit is, unlike some of his less reputable brethren, a really good song, too, with an irresistible melody and some memorable imagery. Speaking of Warren Zevon fans: One of them, discussing music on their bulletin board, denigrated Cohn, comparing him to Jon Bon Jovi for being an obvious songwriter. A song that unites the ghost of Elvis, W.C. Handy and Muriel who plays piano, every friday at the Hollywood, would like to have a word with you, dude. 

Here's the thing about some of Cohn's song, which might've spurred such unnecesssary as well as wildly off denigration: He uses stock imagery of the literary songwriter: angels, wind, rain, and such. So what? They can not all be Dylan. Jackon Browne, one of the best songwriters of his generation, often traded in stock imagery, but the way he expressed himself and the way he made his melancholy music sound smoothed over whatever accusations of a too obvious imagery there might be. And Cohn at his best was full of mature, intelligent observation. Take "The Things We've Handed Down", in my book one of the best songs about parents and children ever written. It has its moments of kitsch and cheese via the dreaded angel imagery: "Don't know why you chose us / were you watching from above", but also lines like this: "You may not always be grateful for the way that you were made / Some feature of your father's that you'd gladly sell or trade / And one day you may look at us and say that you were cursed / but over time that line has been extremely well-rehearsed / by our fathers and their fathers in some old and distant town / from places no one here remembers come the things we've handed down." Jon Bon Jovi couldn't write this, even on his very best day.   

When Cohn hit it big with "Walking in Memphis" in 1991 he seemed to come out of nowhere, like a lot of one hit wonders - but he was a veteran by then, working the coffee houses and piano bars for years, founding the 14-piece cover/show band The Supreme Court that made a good living playing weddings and such, recorded a one-off pop single in the mid-80s (produced by an Alessi brother, but it wasn't even his own song!) before working on Tracy Chapman's "Crossroads" album got him a foot in the door and someone at Atlantic Records finally listened to his demo tape.

I was working on a compilation highlighting Marc Cohn, but really expedited my work when, in the last weeks, spurred on by the fabulous themed collections over at Jokonky's I continued to suggest Marc Cohn songs in threads about painters and cars (and I'm happy to see he made the Fantasy Americn Explorer Series! Yay Jonder! Yay Koen! Yay Cohn!). Cohn did write one of the most moving portrayals of an artist with "Olana", the song that gave my daughter her name, but is really about the place famous American painter Frederick Church built when he lost use of his hands due to rheumatism. There's so many things I like about this song that I could spend paragraphs on it: the sudden realization midway through the song that the narrator's voice comes from beyond the grave or the beautiful counter melodies in the chorus, sung by Rosanne Cash, whose husband John Leventhal produced most of Cohn's work. 

And there's "Silver Thunderbird", that - like Springsteen's car songs - is about more than vehicles, also giving a portrait, real or imagined, of his father. "Great big fins and painted steel, man it looked just like the Batnobile, with my old man behind the wheel. You could hardly even see him in all of that chrome, the man with the plan and the pocket comb", and in just a few words he has characterized the man who imparts some wisdom on his kid: "Don't gimme no Buick, son you must take my word: if there's a God up in heaven, he's got a silver Thunderbird." Again, get the fuck outta here with that Jon Bon Jovi bullshit. 

So, before this really gets too long, as I could talk a ton more about the man and his music and what it means to me, but I'll let you get to the music soon, I swear. Work To Do - The Music Of Marc Cohn is a personal 'best of', reflecting my personal interests and likes in his music. That means that I don't have some of his attempts at a sort of soul light, as these often felt too much sliding into the adult contemporary corner that some of his music no doubt is at least adjacent to. The lion's share of the tracklist is sourced from his superior debut album Marc Cohn. It pays to be a fifteen year veteran who has honed his songwriting, so Marc Cohn came out fully formed. But, as the apocryphal saying goes, 'You have your whole life to prepare your debut album, and then six months for the follow-iup'. Which is no doubt true, but also led to a real sophomore slump with The Rainy Season two years later. Still, even a generally disappointing album yielded some fine track, including the above mentioned "The Things We've Handed Down" and the very Jackson Brwone-sounding "From A Station" (featuring backing vocals by Crosby & Nash). The album that really put me back in his music was 1998's Burning The Daze, but 2007's Join The Parade, which I only caught up with belatedly, didn't catch my attention as much, despite getting some of the best reviews of his career. And then he took another long hiatus until 2020's Work To Do, an album with The Blind Boys of Alabama that combines three studio recordings with a live concert performance. 

The title song of that album that also gives this comp its name is a bit of a mission statement: There is still work to do, for Mr. Cohn, despite some unexpected bouts of hardship. While on tour with Suzanne Vega an attempted carjacking on a tour stop in Denver ended with the carjacker putting a bullet in his head. Literally. Cohn commented that doctors told him that he was the luckiest unlucky guy they had seen in quite a while. But he stays a bit of an unlucky guy, having been diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease in 2020. No new music has been coming since then, but I was happy to see that he has a number of concerts lined up for 2025. So there is still work to do. If he comes into your neck of the woods, go and see him, he is a funny and inviting presence in concert. And of course, listen to Work To Do - The Music Of Marc Cohn, which gives you a fine overview of the often overlooked work of this underrated singer-songwriter.