September 18th, 2024
Hallelujah (/ˌhæləˈluːjə/ HAL-ə-LOO-yə; Biblical Hebrew: הַלְלוּ־יָהּ, romanized: hallū-Yāh, Modern Hebrew: הַלְּלוּ־יָהּ, romanized: halləlū-Yāh, lit. ‘praise Yah‘) is an interjection from the Hebrew language, used as an expression of gratitude to God. – from Wikipedia
Jeff Buckley only recorded one album, Grace. One of the songs on the album was written and originally sung by Leonard Cohen. The song is titled Hallelujah, and it has been covered by other artists besides Buckley. However, Buckley’s version is, at least for me, by far the most poignant.
Buckley uses only his guitar and his voice for the song. That’s enough, more than enough. The austere arrangement creates an intense mood that draws in the listener. He starts quietly and then suddenly his voice grows strong. This happens again and again with each verse.
Buckley begins by singing about King David, a warrior king who composed the psalms:
“Now I’ve heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don’t really care for music, do you?
It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth
The minor falls, the major lifts
The baffled king composing Hallelujah”
“Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah”
Buckley pauses briefly and then sings again about David. He sings about David’s love for Bathsheba, the wife of his general, Uriah. David committed adultery with her and then had Uriah killed in battle. David’s love almost destroyed him and all that he had built.
“Your faith was strong, but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you to a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah”
“Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah”
Buckley changes Cohen’s lyrics at this point to make a more personal statement.
“Baby, I’ve been here before
I’ve seen this room, and I’ve walked this floor
You know, I used to live alone before I knew you
And I’ve seen your flag on the marble arch
And Love is not a victory march”
“It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah”
To me, Buckley is saying that love, be it his love or that of a king, is a terrible thing. It’s a reason to grieve and yet still a reason to praise God. He goes on:
“Well, there was a time when you let me know
What’s really going on below
But now you never show that to me, do you?
But remember, when I moved in you
And the holy dove was moving too
And every breath, we drew was Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah”
Buckley is remembering something about love. It is glorious, and it is also in the past. He sings the last verse with pain in his voice.
“Maybe there’s a God above
But, all I’ve ever learned from love
Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you?
And it’s not a cry, that you hear at night
It’s not somebody, who’s seen the light
It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah”
Buckley has a voice that is full of both joy and anguish. I understand what he means by “It’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah”.
When I listened to this last verse, I remembered the times I have been wounded by life. I remembered when my eldest son told me that he killed a man in Iraq. I remembered when my grandson’s father abandoned his little boy and left us to raise him. I remember when our youngest son sobbed as he talked about his wife leaving him.
I looked at my hands and imagined holding my beating heart in them. I knew that all my tears would never wash the blood away.
All I could say was, “Hallelujah”, a cold and broken hallelujah.
Buckley sings the word over and over, until he fades out.
“Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah”