"It is his singing voice as well as his writing pen that has breathed life into these songs. It is a voice raked by the claws of Cupid, a voice rubbed raw by the philosopher’s stone. … It is a penitent’s voice, a rabbinical voice, a crust of unleavened vocal toast—spread with smoke and subversive wit. He has a voice like a carpet in an old hotel, like a bad itch on the hunchback of love. It is a voice meant for pronouncing the names of women—and cataloging their sometimes hazardous charms. Nobody can say the word “naked” as nakedly as Cohen. He makes us see the markings where the pantyhose have been."