Just like many fans of Cohen's early work, at first listen I was absolutely appaled by this album. The soaring violins and overwrought orchestration struck me as disgusting, and I found myself unable to listen to the album all the way through, even though some of the lyrics that I did hear seemed interesting. Still, even lyrically it seemed a step down from the poetry of his first four studio albums, as though Cohen hadn't given the same meticulous attention to these songs as to many of his previous works (and indeed, I found out sometime later that he and Spector co-wrote these lyrics in less than two weeks, which is an anomoly for Cohen, who typically spends at least a couple years fine-tuning his songs). So I discarded the album, and moved on to explore his later catologue (which, by the way, I am not a fan of. Everything after Various Positions, particularly Ten New Songs, I find incredibly embarassing. I cringed the first time I heard Sharon Robinson crooning over a cheap smooth jazz backing , "whoa whoa, in my secret life!"). A few months later, I decided to give Death of a Ladies' Man another go. About halfway through "Paper-Thin Hotel", I suddenly saw what this album is about. Yes, the orchestration is grotesque, but that's precisely the POINT. It is vulgar, hard to swallow, but somehow grotesquely beautiful. Listen to "Paper Thin Hotel", "I Left a Woman Waiting", "Iodine", or the title track--and listen closely--and you'll see what I mean. This is "sound art" in the truest sense, not at all concerned with being pleasing or agreeable. Cohen's earlier albums were brooding and introspective, but Death of a Ladies Man is downright deranged, a manic-depressive album (comparable in some ways maybe to Lou Reed's Street Hassle, though DOaLM is a better album). Consider the first line sung on the album (from "True Love Leaves no Traces": "As the mist leaves no scar on the dark green hill, so my body leaves no scar on yours, and never will..." If you made the mistake, on your first listen, of thinking this a simple love song, listen to it again (I'm not going to get into a discussion of themes in this music, but needless to say, as with all of Cohen's music, there's a lot going on here beneath the surface). The next song, "Iodine", says "You let me love you until I was a failure", and "Your saintly kisses reeked of iodine". Then probably the greatest song on the album is "Paper-Thin Hotel", in which the narrator hears his woman making love to another man and feels (get this) blissful about it, obviously having some sort of manic depressive breakdown ("I heard your kisses at the door; I never saw the world so clear before," "I felt so good I couldn't feel a thing"). Then consider the perversity of "Memories" and "Don't go Home with your Hard-On", or the mournful depravity of the title track ("She said 'I'll make a place between my legs; I'll show you solitude..."), and it becomes clear that a more "ordinary" or traditionally "pretty" arrangement just wouldn't have worked. It had to be ugly, it had to be off-putting. It's just that sort of album. This is not music to sing along with, or to play in the background at a dinner party; it is a glimpse into a tortured, sexually depraved psyche (moreso than Cohen's other albums, likely because of the influence of Spector, who truly is a depraved lunatic), and you'll come out of the experience perhaps a little shaken, but certainly glad you listened.

Leonard Cohen's "Death of a Ladies' Man", from late 1977, is clearly the most controversial album among his fans out of all his '60s & '70s albums, and it's obvious as to why. This isn't just because it's a heck of a lot different from all of his other albums, it's the WAY in which it's so different that makes it hard to swallow for many fans. I'm suspecting that there aren't a whole lot of people who are big fans of both Cohen AND Phil Spector's legendary Wall Of Sound productions, and indeed, this album sure is a long way from the starkness of albums such as "Songs From A Room" and "Songs of Love and Hate". However, it's not just the presence of Phil Spector as producer & co-writer, not to mention wailing sax solos from Steve Douglas, that results in this album being such a change of pace. It's also in Cohen's lyrics--track after track gives you the impression that Cohen was feeling REALLY sex-crazed and lustful around this time, & the lyrics on songs such as "Paper Thin Hotel" & "Memories" are atypically straightforward for him. All that said, the combination of music & lyrics on this album is, for the most part, uncanny--even though Cohen himself has continually dismissed this album over the years, it really feels as though Cohen & Spector, who co-wrote every track here themselves, had a genuine writing collaboration going on. It's not as though Spector merely took songs like "Seems So Long Ago, Nancy" or "Famous Blue Raincoat" and inappropriately plastered them with Wall Of Sound productions. For example, the cathartic ballad "Paper Thin Hotel" has a lush, soaring musical backing that meshes marvelously with Cohen's confessional lyrics. Likewise, the boisterous, doo-wop style "Memories" is an ideal match for the teenage lust lyrics--it's a fun track, and it features Cohen going into one of his screaming fits on the fade (imagine him trying to sing/ scream like that nowadays). There's also the swinging, toe-tappingly catchy "Iodine"; the nicely dreamy "I Left A Woman Waiting"; & the rousing, uptempo "Don't Go Home With Your Hard-On". The album closer, the musically hazy title track, is an effective, moody piece, although it is excessively, annoyingly dragged out with not one, but TWO false endings--musically speaking, this track very strongly recalls George Harrison's "Isn't It A Pity (Version 1)" which, not so coincidentally, was co-produced by Spector. There are some unfortunate problems here--the thin, sloppily performed female background vocals annoyingly drown out Cohen on "Iodine" and also get in the way on "True Love Leaves No Traces", the latter of which is a decent, breezy track, though it's a bit dull; and the countrified "Fingerprints" is also a little annoying. Overall though, "Death of a Ladies' Man" is a pretty damn good album. It's become increasingly clear over the years that Spector has long been a dangerous lunatic, but the incredible musical talents he possessed are undeniable. Whether you're a serious Cohen fan, or a big fan of Spector's productions, "Death of a Ladies' Man" is a must-have; if by some chance you're a fan of both, then you REALLY can't go wrong.

Everyone puts this album down....but it rewards you with so many treasures if you just dig deep.....its a lexicon of hidden genius. just bear with it and youll see.

This is one of the wierdest albums ever, and worth owning even if you can't decide whether to love it or hate it.For me it is certainly one of the oddest pairings in the history of popular music with cohen's darkly intellectual and sensual understatement meeting spector's affinity for huge and often vulgar production with unpredictable results - you just couldn't make it up- God knows what they were thinking. The album is patchy, but well worth the highlights. 'Don't go home with your hard-on' is probably the only cohen track you'd be ever be able to get people to dance to, while the tite track finishes life as a kind of stoned wigout with cohhen's vocals swamped under some of the mudiest production you'll hear this side of the 1950s, but somehow it all works in some strange way. Any decade other than the 1970s and it probably wouldn't have happenend- buy it just for the sheer unlikeliness of the whole thing.

A milestone in the dialectic of love and boredom. A monument to the self-obsessed. Brilliant and completely overdone. The lyrics are cutting. The distinctly Motown-in-decline musical arrangements border on ridiculousness. Something like...Fellini's Satyricon in music set in the 1970s. Lovers of love and lovers of words should not miss this one. Other people should.